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falsegoodnight · 4 years ago

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this month was a mess but somehow i still managed to read 18 fics this month! as always, they’ll be organized into categories: main list, rereads, and non-1d. as always, this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 28th only – I also do not have my usual thoughts section for each because i’m putting this together last minute. just know that i really enjoyed all of these lovely fics!

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main list ~

✰ in the crooks of your body (i find my religion) by @dehydratedpoolfics | E | 2k

She should probably go back to bed, try to pretend her girlfriend isn’t getting off to whatever she’s dreaming about right next to her. Louis’ll probably forget the dream when she wakes up, won’t even know she did this.

Instead, her body flushes against Louis’ side like a magnetic pull, one Harry can’t control. Carefully, she pulls the sheets down to their ankles, exposing Louis’ hand shoved down her cotton underwear, fingers rubbing at herself, squelching from how fucking wet she is, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears.

A suppressed groan escapes her lips, eyes rolling back into her skull from her attempt to keep her hands to herself.

But Harry’s never been great at denying herself the simple pleasures in life.

✰ These stars will guide us home by sunnylouh | G | 3k

Louis is a god that takes care of the stars and every night makes sure they´re in their place. One day, the satchel where he keeps them breaks and he has to find someone to fix it.

✰ baseball, dancing, same game by @vogueharrystan | E | 4k

AU based on Chad and Ryan in the baseball scene of high school musical 2 because something definitely happened there.

✰ all the things she said by sweetielouis | E | 6k

Louis never knew what she wanted until Harry came into her life but now that she's here Louis is scared of ever having to lose her.

✰ i drink the honey inside your hive by @levelofcharm | NR | 7k

“Look at me,” Harry demands lowly, suddenly grabbing Louis’ jaw and forcing their eyes together. Louis’s face is squished in between the fingers, wide eyes looking up at him when he sneaks a gloved thumb in the corner of his mouth. He smiles, the finger tugging on his bottom lip and opening his mouth slightly, “That’s better, blue.”

Louis’ shoulders hunch slightly at the nickname, neck straining to maintain eye contact, his panties get tighter as his cock hardens at the sight, eyes blinking slowly to ease the stinging tears. Catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in Harry’s navy trousers, the standing man notices, tsking and shaking his head disappointedly, “I thought you were going to be good tonight. What happened?”

“It’s just-” Louis looks up at him again with watery eyes, babbling around the thumb in his mouth, “Haven’t got to play with you for so long, sir. I need-”

Harry nods sympathetically and Louis cuts himself off. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

✰ ain’t ever been vanilla, honey (just wait till you get a taste) by dilfrry | E | 7k

Louis thinks his boyfriend is shit in bed but in reality it’s just one big miscommunication.

✰ let’s shack up by @breadylou | E | 11k

In which Louis wants to wake up in Harry’s arms forever. So he makes a list.

✰ Blind Faith by @2tiedships2 | M | 18k

“Harry?” Liam prompted.

“I’m blind,” Harry eventually said, trying his best to keep himself from crying.

Liam was silent for a few moments, before responding, “That’s not exactly news, H. You were blind when I met you a year and a half ago. Have you been in denial this whole time or something?”

“No, Liam,” Harry cut in. “This is different. I’m not legally blind like I used to say. It’s not just my night vision. The tunnel from my tunnel vision has closed. I’m fucking blind! I moved halfway around the world in the hope of finding my soulmate and it’s obviously not happening now. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not even a soulmate is going to want to put up with a blind alpha."

✰ no i love you’s, no goodnight’s by @causeiwasinlove | M | 20k

Harry and Louis deal with the biggest obstacle of their marriage. They fight using all the fight that’s in them.

✰ you fit into my poems (like a perfect rhyme) by @defencelesst | E | 28k

Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.

✰ take my hand (my whole life too) by @beckydoesthings | E | 44k

Harry is a prince, Louis is most definitely not, and there’s a royal wedding to attend.

✰ Memory of a Dream by @tomlinvelvetfics | E | 65k

Sleeping Beauty AU.

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 87k

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

✰ the entertainment by @tllthesundies | E | 95k

For Harry's upcoming album release, his team dreams of hiring him a PA to help assist with the burden that comes with a launch. Louis Tomlinson is a highly sought-after PA who's worked with many A-listers.

rereads ~

✰ glimpse of silhouettes by orphan_account | E | 7k

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

✰ Two Steps Behind by orphan_account | T | 39k

Louis is two years younger than his neighbors, Harry, Liam, Niall, and Zayn, and he grows up bending over backwards to get their attention and acceptance. Especially Harry's.

non 1d ~

✰ redemption lies plainly in truth by @hadestyles | T | 2k

Homes, loves, fears all take form of a boy and Hyunjin is lost.

my fics ~

✰ lead me to paradise by falsegoodnight | E | 15k

No one told Harry that a paramedic could be this pretty.

If you read any of these lovely fics, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

+ if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

#my fic recs #fic recs #28th appreciation #2021 recs #april recs #april 2021 recs #scheduled

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infinitebells · 4 years ago

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felt bad for louis third wheeling behind 2 big brainers in the last eps + tryna kill sherlock + their dessert didn't came + william giving him a hard time bc he thought sherlock knew the plan. Can i request him with his s/o, conversing to each other with the 2 watching in the background. "yknow, there are too many rooms 2 pick here in the train…" "That's scandalous...ok fine, quick kiss then we follow brother." "Mr. Holmes & I don't mind, you two lovebirds." Can be a bit nsfwish…Thank you!!!

ugh i love these louis asks, he’s one of my secret fav characters because he switches between being such a brotherly simp for his brother (like in the way that he constantly frets over him as a sibling) and being a man who would slit someone’s throat in an instant. his flexibility-

“louis,” your whisper breaks him out of the trance he’s in as he glares at sherlock. he turns to look at you, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“yes my love?” he’s curious as to why you’re looking at him like that, watching incredulously as you shift your body closer to his, hands wrapping around his upper arm. your hands squeeze his bicep, and he has to fight a blush at that.

“you know, there are multiple empty rooms in this train,” your voice is low, only for his ears. neither of you are aware of the two men staring at both of you.

“oh really? what are you suggesting?” he lowers his own voice to match yours.

“that maybe we should occupy one of those rooms for the next forty minutes. i’m sure the time spent there could be far more entertaining,” your hand slides from his bicep to his chest, pressing gently into the firm muscle. he can’t help the blush that crawls up his neck at your words. he turns his entire body towards you, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“well go on darling, hurry and find one so we can join william soon after,” his fingers brush hair away from your face, watching as your eyes widen.

“brother, mr. holmes and i are just fine on our own. if you and your loved one want some alone time then please feel free to spend that time together,” william’s voice sounds out in the cart. your face grows increasingly warm at his words, turning to hide your head in the crook of his neck.

“thank you for your permission william,” louis says, tugging you behind him.

“that was mortifying,” you inform him as he pulls you into one of the empty rooms, locking the door behind you and yanking the curtain down. when he turns to you, his bowtie is untied and the top two buttons of his white dress shirt are undone. his pale skin practically shines in the sunlight, and he almost looks ethereal in the setting sun. the sharp look in his eyes completely dissolves the angel-like glow around him.

“if you think that’s mortifying my love i’d hate to see how you’ll react once i’m done with you,” and then he’s on you. his lips are like a magnet, attracting yours every time he pulls away. his hands smooth over every inch of your body, grasping your waist and pulling you forward as he sits back on the bench. he lets you position yourself on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs.

“is that a challenge my lord?” the nickname is one you stumbled upon a few days after first getting intimate with louis, and now it’s a staple for you. his mouth hardens into a thin line, hands grasping your hips tightly and pushing you down as he grinds his (already) hard cock up into you. the whimper that falls out of your mouth is purely sinful, and you can already tell your patience is wearing thin. the hand at your throat tugs you back into the present, louis’s voice low in your ear.

“it’s not a challenge. it’s a statement, one that you should take seriously.”

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #louis james moriarty

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scnsualforalphas · 4 months ago

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It was almost ironic how the public perception of the two princes clashed with reality, the little bits of truth being distorted into personas that fit the media's craving for sensation and catered to the country's ever-fleeting yearnings when it came to their future monarch. Whether it came to those who appreciated the royal family's traditional ways and looked at Louis as the beloved poster child, or those who adored Julian for his rebellious nature and the signs of changing times - it seemed like the brothers were two poles on a magnet, with one never able to coexist with the other. Louis barely ever heard anyone speak highly of both of them, which felt ridiculous when the truth was that they were two halves of a whole, fully broken and incomplete without the other. Yin and Yang that needed each other like oxygen. The younger prince knew the world wouldn't understand the depth of their unit, that it would cause a scandal that ran much deeper than just breaking with tradition. That was the one and only reason why he didn't shout his love to Julian out into the world; all the more was he craving his brother's touch and kiss in moments like this, when they did manage to be intimate.

The blonde's eyes gleamed with joy when he heard his brother mutter those words, indulging in the little fantasy that had Louis' heart racing. No matter how impossible, he was going to try time and time again to let Julian breed him until he'd carry the other's child, their child, his tight walls clamping harder around his lover's enormous cock when he was forced down on it with such vigor. "F-fuck, Julian...!", he gasped, the posh prince's tone so full of uninhibited lust, his own length releasing copious precum as he felt his brother's huge member fill and stretch him out so deeply. Rolling his hips ever so gently, Louis reveled in the bliss for a moment without letting go of even an inch of Julian; it was almost symbolic of how he felt the jealousy eat him alive every time he thought of someone else, some random woman, entering their union and taking a part of his lover away from him. Even if it was just for the public eye, just a womb to carry Julian's offspring, Louis cursed society and nature for making it a necessity. He knew it was selfish, but he didn't want to share even a fraction of Julian's love, not a drop of his seed. But of course Louis knew that the monarchy often required one to do things they didn't want to do.

What he did want to do was revel in the bliss of this moment forever, his brother's every motion making the smaller man's frame shiver with pleasure, his expression one of pure unfiltered lust, lips parting in a gasp at the sharp impact of Julian's palm spanking him, followed by a stimulation so intense it made Louis' vision go blurry for a moment, his breath taken almost as if to prove the other's point. Julian's strength and virility was without question, and feeling the other move him up and then so forcefully down on that massive cock, feeling it force itself deeper inside him than maybe ever before, had the younger prince gasp for air, fingers digging into his brother's sides for support. "You made me commit so many more sins I should have confessed right there and then", he groaned, smirking a little at the memory. Of course he wasn't so dumb as to disclose his most intimate secrets even with a priest. Julian wasn't the only one misjudged by the public eye, after all; while the rebel prince wasn't so heartless after all, the country would have been shocked to know the prim and proper second son of the king and queen was his own brother's lover, his fucktoy, his whore.

To the rest of the household- no, the country- nay, the world. Julian was a rebel, a sign of the change in times. To some, he was the representation of everything bad in the monarchy and to others, he was the poster child for everything they wanted in the royal family. He and his brother constantly swapped being the "public's prince" throughout their lives. Sometimes everyone doted on prim, proper and beautiful Louis and sometimes everyone rallied for their handsome devil future King, Julian. But nobody understood them they way they did one another. Nobody, not even those closest to them, knew how deep their love and loyalty to one another ran. Julian couldn't go a day without the taste of Louis' lips on his own, without smelling his expensive perfumes or feelings his cloud-like hair between his fingers. "Yours forever," he repeated their secret phrase back to his brother, their whispered oath when they made love or even when they were dealing with their ridiculously high-pressured royal lives and needed to remind one another that they weren't in this alone.

"You'll be a perfect parent to our children," he breathed hotly, the idea of breeding a child into Louis - however impossibly - clearly turning him on and also clearly giving him filthy ideas for their future rendezvous. Julian had already considered how their future would go - he would find a show-bride whom he would only bed with his brother joining them and only until she fell pregnant however many times they needed and then she would only be used for images and publicity, but behind castle walls, he very much intended to raise his family with Louis at his side. The two of them would sire the next generation together.

Julian smirked at his brother and reached around, giving him a sharp spank, followed by forcing the other to slam down even harder on his massive member, holding him there as he pushed impossibly deeper into his brother's magnificent tightness, a show of force and strength in the most passionate way, "Name a single time I have not had stamina for you," he challenged in return, "It is you who should be certain they have the stamina to keep up," he teased, "Have I not fucked you out of your very conscience more than once, dear brother?"" he purred, "Most recently I recall you collapsing against me in the confessional booth while our family sat dutifully for Sunday mass," he reminded Louis wickedly,

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago

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abstract ghosts, concrete lives

written for this prompt challenge. rated T for potentially disturbing scenes but nothing too graphical imo.

relationship: captain allen/simon

fandom: detroit: become human

summary:

also on ao3

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Louis Allen prides himself in being able to more or less take care of himself properly despite having lived alone for more than ten years. Of course, his usual routine has been disrupted since the arrival of a certain little kid on his doorstep, but that doesn’t change the fact that he goes to sleep and wakes up regularly unless his child needs him and he is woken up by their cries; even if he is tired enough to sleep through them, there is always Simon to take up the job, and by now Shub sees the android as their second father more than anything else - not that Louis will have it any other way, the android being more human than most actual humans he has ever met.

But there are also times like this when his mind betrays him. Images too fleeting to be described even in the broadest sense flash in front of his mind, haunting him and dragging him to the deep end no matter how hard he tries to focus on the good, the neutral, the reality, Shub being compressed into the simplest shapes before shattering like broken glass, Simon’s body falling apart piece by piece as his face twists in the gravity of an object heavier than a black hole and his arm stretched outward awkwardly and his mouth open in a static-filled scream, a tide of white and brown that manages to remind him of the darkness at the same time sweeping them away until he blinks and his heart races and suddenly he is back to staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with Simon curled up against his side, the android’s breath too deep and regular to be a regular human’s but his movement and position also too human to be a regular android’s. Simon’s mere presence and regular heartbeat are usually enough to calm Louis down, but as the cycle repeats itself for the sixth time and midnight passes, he knows that it isn’t going to help tonight. Not wanting to disturb the android’s stasis with his own tossing and turning in case those images turn into actual nightmares which he would have no control over, he slides off his bed, careful not to disturb Simon, and pads first to check on Shub, finding them still sound asleep and their vitals steady and strong, then climbs the stairs to the attic which is, most of the times, his own space.

A small window allows him a narrow view of what is outside his house from this angle, and normally speaking he can stare at the nothingness until he bores himself out and falls asleep because of it, but tonight, the shadows and darkness only brings out the ones his mind creates for him to fill the gaps in his memory that he has known since a long time ago that exist but never sought them out: they are mostly from before his eighth birthday which to this day he still has zero recollection off, but on top of that there are also moments with his mother who went MIA shortly before he graduated from high school, things that he did together with his father that returns as him speaking more than ten languages without a single memory on why and how he learnt them, events that he brought his sister to (or vice versa) that confuses him whenever she mentions them because he never remembers. Tonight, they all blend into one, reality mixing with imagination and memories that should have been long gone but choose this moment to resurface temporarily before disappearing like wisps of dissipating smoke, untouchable and uncontrollable and gone just like the ages. So he alternates between drawing and writing, trying to capture bits and pieces of the images at the front of his mind with his stylus and his fingers while being completely oblivious to the numbness of his crossed legs and the knot forming on his back and the dryness of his eyes, but even though the logical and adult part of him tells him that he isn’t exactly twenty and young anymore and he should be aware of the strain he is putting on his body, the part of him that has always been running from the lost memories, the one that somehow manages to remain a scared little boy despite four decades’ worth of life experience and growing pain - it just takes over and urges him to let everything out until his entire body is shaking and the page is full. Guided by the magnets within the two devices, the stylus snaps to the side of the tablet automatically, its light blinking yellow to indicate that it is charging, and Louis puts down the tablet on the floor next to him before he closes his suddenly-heavy eyelids and unwinds his body with a wince and too many popping joints and needles underneath his skin. He picks up his tablet again to take a better look at what the hell he spent the last… two hours and a half working on just to hear the familiar creak of wooden floorboards, the attic illuminated by the faint blue glow of Simon’s LED. Louis freezes like a deer in headlights.

The android folds himself into the already-cramped space of the attic and sits with his legs folded underneath him next to the human, his hand reaching for Louis’ thigh, and the warmth through his sweatpants is enough to drain whatever fight that remains in his body away. So much for going back before Simon notices.

‘I woke up and you weren’t there,’ Simon whispers without breaking eye contact. Then he cocks his head, his LED spins yellow, and he continues, ‘You didn’t sleep at all.’

Louis blinks and looks away, suddenly embarrassed. ‘Can’t.’

He can feel Simon’s intense gaze on his own face. ‘Why?’

He starts fidgeting with the stylus by removing it from where it’s attached to the side of the tablet just to let it snap back again. ‘Memories,’ some images still flash in front of his eyes, but they are less haunting now, less graphic, less detailed, ‘or lack thereof. I try not to think about them.’

‘But…?’

‘Sometimes they just come back and haunt me.’

‘Do you want to talk about them?’

Louis unlocks the tablet to view his creation again, a mixture of abstract images and words that don’t make sense when put together that hurts his head to look at, telling him that keeping it and letting anyone else even glance at it is a mistake, is a torture, and that it shouldn’t have existed in the first place, but they are a representation of his own head so they must have been there since a long time ago but it’s just his damned fault for avoiding the issue and running away instead of facing it heads-on and maybe solve the problem instead of losing sleep and making shitty evil art and making other people worry about him and probably not being able to be a good father for his child in the morning because of sleep deprivation and -

The tablet is taken out of his hands with its screen turned off, suddenly leaving his hands empty and flexing and scrambling for something to hold onto, and the next thing he knows is that there is a warm body pressing against his own and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, grounding him and giving him very little choice on where his hands should go apart from winding them around the android’s waist as well. He inhales deeply, smells the detergent on Simon’s shirt and the body wash that they share, and the chain of thoughts slows down and turns itself down until the thud of their hearts overwhelm it. He suddenly feels restless, his hands twitchy and itching for things to do, but he’s lost, his brain isn’t working, and his eyes refuse to close even though he’s suddenly so, so tired.

Simon stills, and that is when Louis realises that the android has been rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to further calm him down. ‘Let’s get back in bed, shall we?’ he asks, his voice soft and barely audible, but the way he phrases it makes it sound more like a command than a question, so Louis lets himself be guided down the attic and back into their bedroom under the covers, the two of them lying on their sides and facing each other. ‘Do you want me to stay awake with you, or may I go into stasis for now?’

‘Stasis,’ Louis answers immediately. ‘You need it.’

‘And so do you, but here we are.’

‘You are aware that you will most likely take over most of the childcare, aren’t you?’

A soft smile appears on Simon’s lips. With a hand on Louis’ cheek, he leans forward to kiss the human chastely and then pulls back. ‘We’ll figure that out when we wake up again. For now, try to go to sleep, okay? And don’t leave the bed even if you can’t; it’s better than getting up and working.’

Louis nods, and Simon’s eyes slip shut and his body relaxes immediately as he goes into stasis. He scoots close and holds him to feel his breath on his skin and his chest rise and fall against his hand again, and even though the images pull him away from slumber whenever he nearly falls asleep, everything remains relatively peaceful compared to the overwhelming barrage from before. Head now clearer, he thinks of what he will do after both Simon and Shub are awake, recalling bits and pieces of information that he gathered from his surroundings and his work to help himself make decisions: tomorrow is a weekday and has a high chance of being sunny for the whole day on top of being his day off. There are no appointments for Shub and neither does Simon need to report back to a CyberLife store for check-ups anymore, there are enough ingredients in the kitchen and the fridge to make a light meal for himself and Shub, the parks will also be relatively quiet because all other children are at school; maybe he and Simon can bring them there, have a picnic together, let their child have their fun without being harassed or bullied by other children because of their cybernetics and prosthetics that extends all the way from their face to their feet. He might need some strong tea to keep himself awake or a nap in the park to recharge halfway through the day, but it will be another day when the family can spend the whole day together and relax, another happy memory for Shub before their inevitable… no, he has faith in his sister and her people. They will figure out a way to make sure that Shub has many happy years to live before old age takes them. They have to.

Dawn comes with light alongside the grumbles of a hungry child rousing but not quite awakening yet, and Louis feels more than sees Simon’s smile against his neck as the two of them slide out of bed and begin their usual morning rituals with practised fluidity. He forgoes going to the gym in favour of spending a slow morning smelling of tea and warm breakfast at home with his family, knowing that it won’t matter much if he only skips it for a day and doesn’t let it become his habit. Ah well. Not like staying up all night is something he is planning to do often.

‘Picnic, Shub?’ he asks after swallowing a mouthful of pancakes. ‘Just you, me, and Daddy. How does that sound?’

Shub’s wide green eyes and her flailing limbs are answers enough, and as Louis’ own eyes meet Simon’s sky blue ones, it is as if one gaze is enough to communicate everything between them, Louis moving to prepare for the upcoming trip to the park that may seem insignificant to most children but is certainly a big thing for their child while Simon coaxes Shub to finish the last of their breakfast and swipe the plate away from grabby hands before loading it into the dishwasher.

It is another day.

#siallen #dbh simon #detroit: become human #dbh captain allen #a man an android and a somewhere in between

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louandhazaf · 5 years ago

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Larry Playlist Prompt Challenge

I’m so so glad that @a-brighter-yellow & @gaycousinlarry tagged me in this (errr, like... a year ago?????). I was so excited... and then quickly overwhelmed so I started it and then saved it for ages. But this was fun! So then I picked it back up this morning since I had some time and brain space for it!

The rules are to choose 5 songs from a playlist and make prompts based on them.

01. “Kiss Me” by Lucy Hale

This is so very clearly an exes to lovers fic. They had this best friends with benefits thing that went south because they’re both too stubborn to admit how they feel. The rest of OT3 can do nothing but shake their heads at the way they dance around each other, flirting with other people but always keeping one eye on the other to see how they’re reacting. It wasn’t a bad breakup per say--technically wasn’t a breakup at all--they’re still friends-ish. Not as close, since they stopped hooking up, but still have surface level conversation while still eye fucking each other. And OT3 is like... DUDES. JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER. And one day they Louis has a terrible day. A really really shitty day that will go down in the history books as the worst. And Harry doesn’t catch on right away. He’s still doing his normal Friday night thing, flirting with everyone and trying to get a rise out of Louis. But Louis is not rising to the bait. At all. So Harry stops. He slides into the booth next to Louis and softly asks if he’s okay, and it’s like an avalanche, everything about the awful day and the awful week and let’s be honest and everything everything since they stopped doing what they had been doing. And Harry’s like... how can I make it better? And Louis says, “Kiss me.”

02. “We Are Young” by fun.

I love me some angst and inner turmoil and characters making bad decisions, so I’d keep this pretty close to the lyrics as well. Louis and Harry are not good for each other, at all, they feed into the worst parts of themselves, but there’s a magnetic energy there that they keep coming back to. They’re emotionally abusive and dramatic and can’t get enough of each other. I think it starts with a fight as they’re heading out to meet friends. A bad fight. One that has them teetering on actually ending things because it’s All Too Much. And Harry accidentally throws the freezer open too hard when he’s getting the vodka out and he doesn’t realize Louis is right there and ends up clocking Louis with the door, so he’s got a cut and nasty bruise.

And that’s it. Louis’ had enough. He knows it was an accident but he knows they’re terrible for each other and ends it.

But they’re still in the same friend group, so one night a few weeks later they’re out with their friends, and Harry’s doing lines in the bathroom with Mitch and the rest of them, and when he comes back out, Louis’ talking to a cop of all fucking people. And the cop is thumbing across the fucking scar from that night and Louis is leaning into it and Harry wants to scream. And then Louis catches his eye from across the bar and cocks an eyebrow and the cop turns to look at Harry and Harry for sure thinks that Louis is going to have him arrested for fucking hitting him or some shit and Harry panics. His heart’s racing double time and he’s sweating and then the cop’s leaving and Louis is walking over to him and it’s all Harry can do to not sweep Louis up and press him against the wall and kiss him until he can feel how much Harry loves him.

But they don’t really do that any more. Except for, those few times when they slipped up and they did.

“Jealous?” Louis asks lowly. And Harry’s not. Not really. The cop is gone and he knows Louis has a whole stable of boys he hooks up with and he should keep his hands to himself.

Instead he leans in, breathes hot against Louis’ neck, the way he knows he likes it, and says, “You’re mine.”

Louis licks his lips and says, “Another round, then you want to get out of here?”

And maybe it’s more than just a round, but they do eventually stumble out into the dark of the night with their arms around each other and a plan to fall onto the nearest flat surface so they can fuck.

03. “Doginabag” by The Fratellis

This is... another fic of Louis making a bad decision. Harry is clearly upper crust and slumming it after going to some yoga retreat or whatever and realizing that all his money isn’t making him happy. So he leaves his husband in an attempt to ‘find himself.’ He ends up at a dive bar he’s never been to, in an area of town that’s new to him, and there he finds Louis.

Louis is a little more rough around the edges. He works a few jobs, then also runs odd errands here and there, takes care of his family, would never have the luxury of yoga or meditation, let alone dreaming of a “better” life than the one he has. It is what it is.

And he knows that Harry is Bad News. He’s having his little fling on the wrong side of town and will leaving as soon as he gets bored. So Louis really really should not get attached. But then Louis starts learning a few things, how to better balance his life, that he deserves time and love and good things as well, and Harry really comes to resent the trappings of his previous life, and doesn’t want to go back to that kind of life. And somehow they live happily ever ever, surprising literally everyone around them who never thought they’d make it.

04. “Boom Boom” by Rye Rye

Meep. Um.

Okay, I think this would be a PWP? Maybe a five times fic (lol). Maybe there’s a dare (multiple dares?) involved for some reason? If Harry can get Louis off by doing X then Louis will spend the night with him? All Harry wants is for Louis to spend the night and have the quiet mornings and afternoons nursing their hangovers together? And Louis is more of a hit it and leave it type guy? And Harry just thinks that if he can do this five times, Louis will see how great it is and want to date him for real?

So the challenge is set.

Of course Harry and his talented fingers and dick do the job and Louis’ walls fall a bit each time and then after those 5 times Louis is the one to suggest that he’ll spend the night (and maybe never leave!)

05. “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie

I mean... this would definitely be a Louis taking Harry out dancing, and doing a lot of soothing beforehand about how Harry can wear whatever they want and reassuring they look so hot, because of course they do! Comfort Comfort Comfort about gender stuff and presentation and Louis just being super supportive. But not in a cloying way. More of in a.... HOT DAMN I AM HORNY FOR YOU! kind of way? I don’t really have a plot for this. Maybe Harry hasn’t told Louis any of this, explored any of this, with Louis? Like he has his queer friends and has talked in therapy about it and is comfortable, but also is slightly worried about how Louis will react? But of course Louis is totally a-okay with it! I don’t know!!! lol

I don’t know who’s done this, ages ago? So if you see this and want to pick it back up again, please do so! And tag me! I love reading prompts! Also, if anyone wants to write any of these, go ahead!

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wadey-wilson · 6 years ago

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When you see this, post a snippet of a WIP

Blankly, Louis stares at the jumble of books and papers, at the empty pizza box and two plastic cups. He was studying, he remembers that dimly. Actually, he remembers more than that - numbers and signs flash through his head as his brain goes online. Chemistry, yeah. Bio quiz, English essay. He glances at the four pages of perhaps enough-sense-making-to-pass ramble about A Dream Within A Dream, but the text is just a mess of black squiggles. The blur wipes out as he blinks lazily, rising from the ground to his knees. Jesus Christ, his back. No more falling asleep on the floor.

Oh, yes, a knock.

"Shit," he mumbles, scrambling off the ground messily, the half asleep and nervous state making his hands stick to the loose papers and notebooks. "Get off me," he hisses, his heart starting to pound harder, half from sudden stress, and half from the awareness that Harry is behind his door.

Once he's on his legs, he checks out if the web dissolved and whether his shirt is crumpled. One positive, one negative, so he goes to the closet and tucks out the first sweater from the pile. Tugging on the sleeve to cover up the web-shooter, he makes it to the knob.

Harry's wide grin and sparkling eyes are the first thing he sees after cracking the door open. "Lou!"

"Hazza." He reciprocates the smile weakly, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.

“How are you?” The boy asks, hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans. Underneath a white zip up hoodie, he's sporting the exact same heart patterned shirt that Louis was eyeing in H&M over a week ago. Seeming completely unaware of Louis' sped up heartbeat and warmth pooling in his chest, he scrunches his nose in the usual adorable manner.

"Feeling like shit, to be honest," Louis admits, letting the boy into his cave. He takes one more heedful look at the place in a search for anything secret identity related. The suit is stashed into the backpack hanging on the bed's frame, and the glass-pad with an unfinished formulas of magnetic webbing is somewhere in the desk drawers, so he's fine.

Harry stops by the scattered books and food. He pokes the empty pizza box with his foot.

"No offense, Lou, but you look like shit, too," he says, sending Louis an apologetic look.

"Thanks, man." Louis' brows wander up as he watches the boy grin. He notices the shadow of care crossing Harry's face, too.

He closes the door, before peeking out to shoo away his smug-faced aunt from behind the corner of the short hall. He walks up to the pile on the floor and starts picking up the books.

"Like you need forty hours of sleep," Harry adds, sinking on the bottom bunk, "a blowjob, and a shower."

"I get it." Louis waves a hand as he piles up the school stuff on the edge of his desk. He takes a look at the double screen of his computer, the one Tony supplied him with right away with the glass-pad and bed. After a second, he realises he could have just listened if the computer was running. He suppresses an eye roll and turns to Harry who's watching him intently.

"Maybe I should go?" The boy asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his lap.

"No, no." Louis reaches down for the pizza box and empty cups. "I just need to take this out and visit the bathroom, and we can do," he draws a circle with his hand clutching on the Monte cups, "whatever you wanted to do."

"Whatever I want to do, huh?" Harry cocks an eyebrow at him, a smug smile widening his lips.

"I hate you." Louis sighs, walking up the few steps to the door. "Be right back, don't touch anythin’."

"Sure thing." The boy nods, reaching out for one of the two bananas and Louis’ English essay. "No touchy."

#honestly i don't even know #that's from Look After You #page 99 #yeah

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afirethatcannotdie · 7 years ago

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@allwaswell16 tagged me to post a bit of a WIP and though I did it earlier this week, I’ve written nearly 1500 words today! here’s the latest bit of the prince harry/football player au:

When the door has closed behind Louis, Harry turns around, head falling back to hit the door lightly. He feels full of energy, blood buzzing hot in his skin. His boner went away but the feelings didn’t, and he knows he would feel better, less restless, if he just had a quick wank.

He’s been trying to avoid it, but he can’t anymore: Louis is fit. Like the breathtaking, stunning, very in-shape kind of fit. He’s a football player, after all; it’s not like this should come as a surprise.

It’s the first time he’s allowed himself to acknowledge it since meeting Louis. Harry’s spent more than a few minutes staring at photos of his very toned legs in the paper, same with lots of footie players, but there’s something magnetic about Louis in person.

He can’t get off to thoughts of Louis, though; that would be creepy. A violation of the boundaries of their very new friendship. What boundaries? asks the devil on his shoulder. He just spent the night spooning you.

He cleans up the dishes from breakfast, starts the dishwasher, and picks up the blankets from the living room. The empty wine bottle goes in the recycle, the bags of marshmallows and M&Ms get put in the cabinet, and when he looks around, there is absolutely no more cleaning to be done. Well, he could sweep the floor, but that seems a bit overkill.

Getting off to one’s friends platonically is fine, right? It’s not like he wants to hook up with Louis. He’s just hot and it’s been ages since Harry had sex and again, Louis is very fit. That’s allowed.

Just once, just to get it out of his system, and then he can go about his day.

He crosses the flat to his bedroom, trying not to walk too quickly, to seem too desperate. He throws his phone onto the bedside table, pulls his pants and boxers down to his ankles, and collapses on the bed. He leaves his shirt on, because he’s going to pretend this never happened.

He closes his eyes, doing his best not to think about Louis’ abs. He sighs and tries to make it clinical, just relieving an urge.

He’s given his cock two rough tugs, just warming up to it, when he gets a text.

Thinking it might be an emergency, he reaches out with his free hand to grab it, and-

It’s Lily. Hey, what time are you picking me up for the meeting?

And just like that, boner killed.

#royal au #future fics #fic snippet

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aggresivelyfriendly · 7 years ago

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~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 28-Fern Gully

I was laying on the bottom part of Harry's stomach doing my best to distract him with a game I had made up called, "Between Two Ferns."

It basically consisted of me going over all his tattoos and telling him why I thought they were stupid. It started when we had first gotten to South America. The hours in my bed at home had been frenzied and apparently noisy, but the lights were off and I missed a few additions to Harry' s body. It should have been a game for me. Surely, I could play those memory cards that little kids do and try to write down all of the 50+ tattoos the gorgeous idiot had on his body. I had postulated their meaning one night, using my deep thinking wanna be a writer and have read too many classics brain to give full meaning to many of the pieces of art he had chosen. I had then come to find out many of them were just completely stupid. "Oh, I wanted to try my gun." "Zayn likes Pink Floyd, well that album, I think." "Oh, do you not like 'Pingu', love?" These were the deep well of meaning for his forever etchings I'd run into. When we had a whole hotel room with a big white bed to sleep in one night in Rio, I'd been loose lipped from caipirinhas and loose limbed from Harry and told him that my Favorite tattoo had been the 'might as well' tattoo he had covered up with the giant ferns. I'd been emboldened by the alcohol I was slowly learning to enjoy in his presence. He'd been imbibing it liberally and I'd pulled him off Ben Winston to take him to our room. Some part of me meant this very innocently, but the newer, louder part meant every filthy implication of putting him to bed. I also wanted to try something new. The elevator had been empty, and for once it was handsy Melly. "Baby." He'd snorted, "that tickles!" He'd sneezed while I wiggled my fingers over his newly obscured v lines. "Good, now you know how it feels!" I'd giggled like I was the receiver of the tickles and the door had opened and he made a run for the door of our room. He'd swiped himself in and tried to close me out. My first instinct was to fight my way in, like I would with my brother, but instead I used a tactic I had recently discovered. I stuck out my bottom lip a little and looked up at him through my lashes, "Baby," I added a touch of whine to my voice. It really made me want to roll my eyes at myself, but Harry turned to custard when I combined these moves. He pulled the door back open and linked our fingers, pulling. The momentum of the move propelled me into his body and the closing door meant magnetized lips. Harry walked backwards through the living area making the most direct line possible without eyes and while physically connected to someone by teeth and tongue. It felt sexy, but Harry was undeniably clumsy and drunk. I had thought about his flailing limbs and falling habits one day and remembered when Michael sprouted up during puberty. It was like he was unaware of where his body began and ended suddenly. My brother had grown out of this growth induced bumbling. Harry had not. I wonder if from the outside looked like a pinball game as we ricocheted off of sofas and walls to make it to the bedroom. From the inside, the focus was on one another and getting to the room with the softest horizontal surface. The back of Harry's knees hit the mattress and I'd pushed him down. His hat popped off his head and the light from the window hit the sweat on his cheekbones making them glow. The light also caught the points of his collarbones and the ridges of his ribs and even the tips of his hipbones. These points of interest caught my eye too, in wonderfully frustrating ways. I realized then that he was drunk, but I was definitely tipsy. I pinched his right fern. I really wanted to pinch his v lines, but I couldn't see them so well anymore. "Why the fuck did you get these, mate?" I soothed my finger over the now hidden words. I missed them. He shivered at the contact, but frowned at my words. "You don't like them, angel?" He grabbed at my hands and started to sit up. I stopped his motion and pushed him back down. "Are they supposed to be arrows pointing to your dick?" I ticked up an eyebrow. "Because everybody knows where that is. Can't miss it." I cupped him through the damp cloth of his boxers and found him more than half hard. He swallowed and tried to find something to say. I decided to continue to leave him speechless. "Do you just like to keep the accounts that keep track of your stupid tattoos—" "Heeey!" "Busy?" His skin was on fire beneath my fingertips, running a few degrees above the usual and I wanted to be brave. I bit my lip and decided to go with the bold spirit I was feeling. Teasing him with words was familiar and made me more comfortable teasing him with other tools. I'd just hooked my fingers under his swim trunks when he found his voice. "You really don't like them?" The little people pleaser pouted. "Well," I pulled his trunks down watching his glans pop free of his waistband and hit between the two fern leaves. "I miss the less obscured view of your v lines." I leaned down and licked one, until my face was right next to his bobbing dick. I licked down the other way and stopped just above his waiting shaft. It flexed towards me and he whined. "But if it's a map telling me where I should go..." And I licked his tip and he made a new sound I wanted to hear on repeat.

My boldness started to flag when I realized I wasn't sure what to do, so I stroked him in a way that had become familiar and looked at him beseechingly. "Just," he sucked in a breath. "Just put it in your mouth. You'll be amazing, Melody. Just," he bucked into my hands and I wrapped my lips around the tip. His head popped up to watch, "watch the teeth."

So I opened my mouth wider and pursed my open lips and went down until it was uncomfortable and came back up. A natural suction was created and Harry's neck got weak. "That's it, Angel!" So I repeated the motion, and he reached a hand down to where I was holding his base. He moved my hand with his, up and down while I sucked his tip shallowly. Out of curiosity I pulled off to watch him and I stroke over his cock. The foreskin would come up and swallow his flared head and go back down again. I licked his glans and then again when the jacket covered it. His hand was speeding up and he was panting with anticipation. I jerked my hand to get him to let me take back over and chased his prepuce up and down until his hand buried itself into my hair and he quietly humped my mouth. "Angel, Melody, you gotta..."

I opened my eyes wide. He sounded like he was really close, stumbling over his words.

"I'm gonna cum!" He pulled my mouth off by my hair and I loved the yank. He covered the ferns with thick white spurts and I was transfixed. Condoms had kept me from coming into contact with his ejaculate. I ran my fingers through and lay my head on the top of his thigh before bringing some gathered fluid to my mouth. It was bitter, but not unpleasant. He whined watching me.

"Next time, don't stop me?" I asked, I was pretty sure boys liked that from being unwillingly adjacent to a lot of male voices for years. "Melody," he prayed a hallelujah and linked our fingers again over a fern. "Still not sure I like these, but they seem to work!" I pinched his right fern and he yelped out a laugh. After that, I'd lay on his lower stomach sometimes before during and/or after and give him my opinions on things like the word big-stupid, sparrows-love, and padlocks-did a five year old do that? I also liked to do it when he was feeling stressed. It distracted both of us from the unforgiving pace we were going at. It was crazy to be on this beast of a tour. The crowds, the dates-one right after another, with no breaks, the constant promo, and now the 1D boys were also recording an album. Most nights Harry did not make it back to our room until 4 am. He'd fall into bed and lack enough interest to fade into me. The Take Me Home tour had been constant and strained and even crazier than the current circuit we were making around world with the film crew and writing and recording and adding dates upon dates.

It did not seem to be as thoroughly exhausting though. It may have been that those were incremental changes. The boys weren't faced with nearly a year of traveling to start with. Also, they had been fresher then. Fresher faced and had not already made three back to back albums and two circumnavigation of the globe in three years. The excitement of their new lives, fame, and money could have staved off the exhaustion. It wasn't so new now. But the pace remained. And it remained relentless. I could see it on the face of all of the boys. Niall weathered it best, you could bottle his energy. Louis got snarkier, Liam alternated between drinking and exercising, and Zayn withdrew. But I saw the changes in Harry more. To be fair, we essentially lived together, like a roving band of gypsies and Harry and I shared our caravan. When he came in and literally timbered into bed, with few words and no cuddles, I worried a little. One night was worrisome, night after night was problematic. "Fuck!" Harry roared walking in one evening. It wasn't the emotion I missed from him, but any show of personality not on stage was appreciated. However, this was accompanied by a slung bottle of water I had to jump over. "Ahh!" I found myself stumbling and tripping over my own feet. "Shit, sorry Melly! Didn't see you." Ouch.

I let the fact that he saw me rarely go. He came over and pulled me up. I thought he'd hug me, but the waves of emotion radiating off of him were of the don’t touch me variety. I took a step back from him and crossed my arms. "What's up Harry?" I gave him a glance over. "They fucking added a video shoot during our off time!" He ranted and started to pace. "Off time, which we don't fucking get, ever, and I had plans, in LA for meetings, about, like, after. Dammit, I'm gonna look like a stupid kid or uninterested! Fucking managements gonna milk us dry and then let us fade to oblivion. Give us no time to get another career or make other connections." All of his thoughts made sense, I knew they were all frustrated with the scheduling and pace and were continually pushing for more creative control. I had never heard these specific frustrations from Harry though and wondered where they were coming from. I knew in our time apart he had had a whole life I was unaware of and that he met and became close to some important people. There was a time when I'm sure I would have known all about his new plans and hopes, but a lot of the time that we used to spend talking was now spent doing other things, and lately, with recording, even that wasn't happening. At least I got to hold him while he slept. Harry gave a big sniff and coughed before running out of steam and deflating onto the couch below him. The coughs intensified and I thought about that too, worried about that too. He was sick, a lot. He had nearly not made it to me last tour because of his weakened immune system. He needed a break, they all needed a break, but they were just over half way through and I had already heard there would be another tour on the heels of this one. I worried. Mostly for Harry, and the other boys, their health and life and careers. But I also worried about Harry and I. There were things I didn't know, that I should. We weren't talking enough, and our other modes of connection where being belayed by late nights, the need for sleep, and snotty noses. I made my way over to the couch and fitted myself behind his body. I tried to tell him everything with that move. Harry nuzzled into me and found his way to my lap like he'd loved since our first movie date that wasn't a date. My hand was going to his hair as he reached to bring it there. "I'm sorry, H. I know you are tired—" "Honestly Melly, at this point I miss tired. Um, i'm so far beyond it that.." he shook his head and I petted him. "If...." I wasn't sure how to tell him I'd take the cup from him. "Is it weird to tell you I'd be you for any length of time to give you rest?" He rolled onto his back then to look up at my face and his lips turned down and his eyes filled. He caressed my face while he let his frustration leak from his eyes. "No, because then, um, then you would feel like this. And I'd never want that for you." I leaned down to kiss his sweet lips and scoffed when he turned his face. "Harry..." "No, like, you'll get sick, like last time, Angel, and I won't be able to take care of you. Because I'll be fucking gone, like always."

“Baby, is there anybody you can talk to about this? To fix it?” I was scared to ask.

He looked at me in a way I’d never seen. Harry usually looked at me like I was magic, or brilliant, or his. In this moment, he looked at me like I was simple, and not in a good way. “Melody, they don’t care. They only want to milk the cash cow. If I am burned out or washed up at 23, they don’t care. Only I care, or you, or my mom. Maybe close friends, or Jeff?’ There was a question there.

“Who’s Jeff?” I’d heard the name mentioned and seen him pop up in the google alert I’d set for Harry.

“Azoff.” he said, like it meant something. I was going to ask the other questions, I was. I knew that they were important and that there were things that we should say-puzzle pieces missing, but Harry had blown out a breath and settled himself into my lap. “Angel?”

I pulled my attention from where I was staring at his hand, he’d started to wear rings. It was laying on his thigh. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” His hand cupped my chin.

“For what?” I placed my fingers over his to tangle them together.

“For just…” he closed his eyes. “For being here, for….listening, I guess.”

“Always, H.” I promised and squeezed his hand. “I’m still your best friend.”

His eyes were closed, and I could tell he was nodding off.

The next day, i went shopping with the girl’s, and they all giggled when I bought Harry a ring. Lottie doubted he would even wear it. But Lou, Lou seemed to know him almost as well as me.

“He’ll love it,” she inspected the square lettering-PEACE- “he could use it.” and I nodded along with her.

Harry held me against him when I gave it to him that night. “It’s perfect, Angel.” He slipped it on immediately and we both admired the way it looked against his skin, and then my own.

At the time, it was a sweet moment between us. My wish for him and a promise to be his resting place. I think it still means something to him, he still wears my ring.

I still wear a matching one.

It mattered. It matters, but now I think maybe it was a volley into no man’s land, a lost cause. I was a little child trying to stop a flood by sticking my finger in a dyke.

Because the only way to save us, was to sacrifice me.

I don’t know who you are, but playlist anon-I love you!!!

#harry styles #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #harry styles smut #mmith #meet me in the hallway #one direction #one direction fanfiction #chapter 28

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1000-directions · 7 years ago

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imlouisaf replied to your post:

imlouisaf replied to your post: ...

IDK MY BRAIN CAN’T FULLY PROCESS IT TBH LIKE IS ELEANOR INVOLVED?? DOES SHE NOT EXIST IN THIS PARTICULAR INSTANCE??? IS THIS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WHERE LOUIS AND BEBE MEET UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES OR DO THEY GO OUT DRINKING IN DONNY AFTER THE VIDEO IS DONE AND ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER????

he’s never really been on his own, is the thing. it was right from hannah to eleanor to briana to danielle, and now he’s just...alone. and he wasn’t prepared for how lonely it would be, for how much he would crave that little bit of contact. there’s a secret little bit of himself that he always hides away from the rest of the world and shares with just one person, and now there’s no one to share that with, and it’s been a difficult adjustment for him. but he made it through to the other side, to over here right now, and he feels weirdly content in himself, like he’s strong enough to just be who he is without anyone else, like all he needs in the world is his son and his music and he’ll make the rest up as he goes. he’s still alone, but he’s stopped being lonely.

he meets bebe for the first time in doncaster, and she’s shockingly beautiful. she’s so different from all the girls he’s been with before, but he finds himself drawn to her, to her tiny waist and smooth tan skin, to the way her trackies hug the supple curves of her arse, to the way he can see her nipples through her shirt, to her brassy laugh and her red sinful lips and her huge expressive eyes. she’s fucking beautiful, and she’s fucking fun, and he’s comfortable around her like he’s comfortable around his lads, and he’s also been hard for what feels like hours. he wants her, but he doesn’t need her. he hasn’t flirted with someone new in so, so long. he wants to know what she sounds like when she comes, if she gets loud or if she’s overwhelmed and whimpering softly, if she laughs, if she curses, if she’ll let him be in control or if she’ll fight him back every step of the way.

after filming ends and they’re left to their own devices, he shows her the donny nightlife, such as it is. she can’t stop talking about how cheap the shots are, and the more she drinks, the closer she stands to him. they find somewhere playing music, and there aren’t many people dancing, but the two of them dance, if you can even call it that. he’s mostly standing still, a drink in one hand, the other on her hip, and she’s grinding against him, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, and he watches her perfect gorgeous face, watches the way her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. he needs a smoke so bad. is this happening? is this going to happen? it’s been so long that he can barely remember how these things even get started.

finally, she spins around and drapes her arms loosely around his neck. she nips at his earlobe, kisses the corner of his jaw, and then whispers right against his ear, “take me somewhere, louis.” he can’t bring her back to dan’s, not with all the kids there, but stan’s on holiday and louis still knows where he keeps the spare key, so they head that way. and they’re much too loud, the neighbours will be noticing, but they finally get inside the house, and they don’t even have time to turn the lights on before they’re on each other, like magnets held apart too long finally crashing back together.

bebe tastes red red red, like strawberries or watermelon, fruity and red and aggressive, and he just keeps tasting her, keeps kissing her and finally lets his hands work their way over her perfect fucking body like he’s been aching to do ever since he saw her. she’s fucking lush, she’s smooth and soft and his hands are devouring her, mapping out every curve. he couldn’t touch before, and now he can’t stop. her tits are insane, her arse is unreal, he wants to get his mouth on every last inch of her.

“you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he tells her, slipping his hand under her shirt and cupping her breast. it fills his hand perfectly, and she moans as he thumbs at her nipple. “wanted to do this all day, just wanted to get my hands all over you.”

“i never fucked an english guy before,” she says breathlessly. “you’ll be the first.”

she drags him over to the couch and then gives him a little push so he’s sitting down. she runs her hands over her own body a little bit, eyes shut, biting on her lip, giving him a little show as she touches herself through her clothing. then she starts wriggling out of her top, and he groans when he finally sees her tits, small and high on her chest, with tiny hard nipples that he wants to get his mouth on. and another minute later, she’s stepping out of her trousers and pants, and she’s naked and perfect before him. it’s dark in the room, but she’s glowing, she’s fucking electric. she walks towards him with silent little footsteps, and then suddenly, she’s in his lap straddling him, her small hands pushing his shoulders back against the couch.

“please tell me you have a condom,” she says. he looks up at her, because she’s towering above him, she’s up on her knees and her has to crane his neck to see her. he digs his wallet out of the pocket of his joggers and finds a condom, always carries one these days even though he never seems to need one.

“did you want to find the bed, or--?” he asks her.

“this is fine right here,” she says. she reaches into his joggers and takes out his prick. her hand is so warm and soft and knowing, and he groans at how good she feels. she thumbs at his foreskin and cocks her head to one side. “never seen one of these. am i doing okay? how’s this feel.”

“feels fucking amazing,” he manages. her curious fingers keep teasing him, and he is going to die.

“does it taste any different?” she asks

before he can react, she slides to the ground in one smooth motion, and it’s just a second before her mouth is on his dick, and she sinks down onto him, holding eye contact the entire time with her enormous cartoon eyes. she bobs up and down a few times, and he’s going to die, he might already be dead, and then she pulls off, flicking her tongue experimentally over his foreskin a few times and then crawling back into his lap.

“you taste good,” she purrs right into his ear, and he’s either going to die or come before he ever gets to fuck her, there’s no way he’s surviving this experience.

she takes the condom he forgot he was even still holding, opening the packet and getting him sheathed, giving his shaft a few more good tugs like he could possibly ever get harder than this, like this isn’t the fucking sexiest moment of his life already. she raises herself up a bit, and then she sinks down onto his dick with a broken moan.

“you feel amazing,” she tells him, forcing the words out between gasps as she starts to ride him, her fingers digging into his shoulders through his shirt, her tits bouncing right in his face. she’s naked and perfect and he’s still wearing all his clothes, and she throws her head back and just takes him, and he’s so stunned and turned on her can’t do anything but sink his fingers into her hips and let her do it. she’s so tight and wet around him, and she’s heat everywhere they touch, flames just licking at him, she’s red fire hot.

and she’s loud. feel so good in me, you’re so big, so hard, feel so fucking good. and if she’s not talking, she’s gasping or whimpering. he’s never felt so powerful and sexy in his entire life and he’s not even doing anything.

“touch me,” she groans after a minute. “make me come, louis.” she takes his hand in hers and brings it to her cherry lips. she sucks two of his fingers into her mouth, prodding at them with her tongue, hollowing her cheeks and slurping at him messily. then she’s pushing his hand down, down her body, down past the neat thatch of hair above her pussy. “make me come,” she says again, and she sounds a little desperate this time.

where his hand is, he can feel himself fucking in and out of her, can feel how wet he is because of her, how wet she is because of him. he crooks his fingers a little and inches his way up until she gasps and rocks forward. he rubs tight, insistent circles over her clit with the pad of his middle finger, and she crumples, her upper body falling onto him while her hips keep working his dick.

he finally, finally gets his mouth on her, just flicking his tongue against her nipple to see how she reacts. she moans and arches into him, so he keeps going, little teasing licks at first before he sucks it into his mouth.

“you can bite it if you’re gentle,” she says breathlessly. “i like that sometimes.”

he just grazes her the slightest bit with his teeth, and she cries out and stops moving for a second before she resumes riding him, clumsy and rhythmless, barely lifting up anymore, just grinding down hard onto him.

“i’m gonna come,” she whines. “make me come, louis.”

he tightens his one-handed hold on her hip and finally starts fucking up into her, strong slow drives right into her center. he can feel her starting to tremble around him, and he slips his middle finger into her the next time he fucks up, thumbing roughly at her clit, and she just loses it, shuddering and whimpering as she comes.

“oh god,” she whispers. “fuck, oh god.” she pushes his hand away and grinds down on his dick one more time as she says, “you’re so fucking good at this,” and then he’s coming his fucking brains out, pulsing into the condom like he’s never going to stop. she’s still so tight around him. fuck.

“that was unreal,” he says, when he finally catches his breath. “you’re amazing.”

“you’re amazing,” she says softly, brushing his sweaty fringe from his forehead. she cradles his face in her hands, and when she kisses him, she tastes like strawberries.

#imlouisaf #is this the smuttiest thing i've ever written?#MAYBE #trexha #i wrote a thing

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sweetielouis · 8 years ago

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pining fic rec (21 fics)

here is a quick little fic rec of some of my favorite fics with pining!! i hope y’all like them, and as always drop by my ask with requests! 💖

❉ - means you need an ao3 account to read!

Searching For The Cure (We Found Us) by itsprobablylarry (30k)

“So you woke up as a frog,” Louis considers out loud. “What if you're like that princess that turns into a swan during the day but is a human between sunset and sunrise?”

Harry just blinks at him, clearly unimpressed.

(Basically: Louis doesn't quite know how to handle the fact that his best friend/roommate wakes up as a frog.)

(your heartbeat) rang true inside my bones by flimsy for estrella30 (32k)

Harry goes as Louis' date for a weekend wedding. He ends up taking the role a bit too seriously.

“Hey,” Harry hears himself say just as Louis climbs back into the car. He ducks down, holding onto the roof to look at Louis who cocks his brow at him and says, “What?”

“I meant it,” Harry starts. “Like, I’d do it. I’d be your date for the wedding. If it’d make you feel less awful about being there and if you want me to, I’ll do it. I promise I’ll be good.”

Runner on Third by Anonymous for Louvie (39k)

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was.

“Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it.

Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?”

“I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.”

Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?”

“Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?”

“I’m his teacher.”

“You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed.

Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year.

---

Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

Roots by cherrystreet (43k)

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

---

we're only stones around the sun by snowingwhite for Serised (46k)

Harry used to talk about him like that once, months ago when he wouldn’t let himself linger on touches that lasted a beat too long or looks that held unspoken promises. Back then it’d been easy, with the hiding of feelings, now it’s all a mess, complicated and hard. He doesn’t know where one feeling starts and another one stops, how he’s supposed to figure it all out. He doesn’t know where to begin, which thread to pick up and begin untangling, where it’s going to lead him if he does. He doesn’t know if he wants to find out.

or, Harry finds that he can't ignore his feelings for his best friend when the months start ticking down to Louis's graduation.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor (46k)

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Aka Harry pretends to date his best friend to escape unwanted attention from a too insistent classmate and hopes it won’t blow up in his face. Featuring embarrassing dildo accidents, awkward boners, longing, first times, late night conversations, emotional discoveries and Niall as the exasperated friend with bad advice.

Chestnuts Roasting... And All That by elsi_bee (46k) ❉

Louis is apparently the only person at his new job who is single as can be. It’s not a big deal to just tell his new colleagues that he has a boyfriend, right? Until he has to make this imaginary boyfriend magically appear at the office holiday party. Cue fake relationship antics with a certain someone who is more than willing to play along.

kiss me on the mouth (and set me free) by tempolarriefics (47k)

Harry, being his endlessly patient self, asks with a wry smile, “And who am I going to spontaneously marry for financial aid?”

He clearly intends for it to be a rhetorical question, for it to shoot down Louis’ ridiculous marriage idea. But Louis answers easily, “Me. You’ll marry me."

aka the not-so fake marriage AU in which Harry and Louis get married to keep Harry from dropping out of uni (and if they discover that they’re in love along the way, well, that’s neither here nor there).

like a boomerang by youwilll (48k)

AU in which Harry gets trapped in a lift, Louis gets stuck in a Wednesday, and it's always February 2nd. Until it isn't.

i'll make this feel like home by zouisclimax for Midnight_Magic (49k)

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

To the Ends of the Earth by stylinsoncity (55k)

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

I need home (our tangled bones) by togetherwecouldbealright for tomorrows, tomlinsunrise (68k)

Louis runs a record label and Harry is his daughter's new nanny. Over the course of a year, Harry helps Louis learn what it really is to be a father and somehow they find an unexpected home in each other.

Or, the kid fic where Louis wants to make Harry a star, Zayn just needs everyone to stop being stupid, Niall laughs his arse off at everything, Liam attempts to keep things in order and Harry takes a chance.

Dreaming of You by Velvetoscar (68k)

The Begrudging Starbucks AU.

The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel.

don't tell the gods (we left a mess) by bottomlinsons (grimgrace) (71k)

After a misunderstanding with Liam’s mother, Louis agrees to accompany his best friend to a family wedding and pretend to be the world’s best boyfriend. But their simple plan goes awry when he learns that Harry, ex-boyfriend/ex-love of Louis’ life, will also be in attendance. (aka: fake!boyfriends with a twist ft. bromance, romance and cake.)

Want You More Than A by TheCellarDoor (77k)

Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.

Don't Look Down by zarah5 (91k) ❉

AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

In This Light by exhilarated for tilthesundies (99k)

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

Like a Bullet in the Dark by Vurdoc (99k)

Prince Harold Edward Styles Lancaster is second in line to the throne of Great Britain. He is also your average Uni student- or he tries to be, anyway.

With a promise from the press (and his father) that they'll leave him alone for four years, he sets out to be a student at Cambridge, when he meets his very normal, very working class, very handsome suite-mate, Louis Tomlinson.

Louis makes Harry feel more like a person than he ever has before, which might cause some issues later on- 'cause Harry has a secret that he's only told his sister Gemma about.

Little does he know though, that Louis has some secrets of his own.

A Will & Kate Au- with a twist.

You Drive Me Crazy (but it feels alright) by MrsStylinson (102k)

Bridget Jones' Diary AU.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

Untangle Me by suicxne (103k)

Louis finds himself out of place in LA, unable to get at an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He supposes back in the early days, home hadn’t been a place. It’d been a person. He’d etched it permanently into his skin for fucks sake. It was always him and Harry. Stuck to each other like super glue. Pulled together by some magnetic force, existing in their own bubble. Everyone could see it, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it?

It’s not like Louis can pinpoint the exact moment in time when him and Harry fell out of sync. There wasn’t really one at all. It had been a gradual slip, like the tide wearing away at a sandstone cliff. Chipping the solid foundations until there was nothing left to stop the structure falling to the waves below. It’s not like he spends all of his time sitting around moping over a lost friendship, he’s good at distractions. But LA only seems to accentuate the distance between them. Two separate planets, not even in the same solar system.

Or the one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.

Empty Skies by green_feelings (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

Featuring Perrie as Harry's adorable flatmate, Niall as his manager, and Liam and Zayn as Louis' bandmates.

BONUS:

Say You'll Remember by whisperdlullaby (93k)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

Never Be by cherrystreet (117k)

Monica: You've got to see her again. Ross: And why do you care so much? Monica: Because! You could get to live out my fantasy! Ross: You had fantasies about Emily? Monica: No! Y’know, the fantasy! Meet someone from a strange land, fall madly in love, and spend the rest of your lives together.

The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

---

#larry #my fic rec #fic rec #pining #tp #a

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falsegoodnight · 5 years ago

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✰ These Lights Are Blinding ✰

Mature | 3.7k

This is the first 4k-ish words of a fic I spontaneously started writing after getting the idea in a dream. This could all be scrapped or changed but I’m currently 7k in so I hope not :)

I shared a link to a google document on twitter for feedback but I thought I’d just share it here for more potential thoughts/feedback too!

(Vale, if you see this, look away!)

Trigger warning: kidnapping, minor violence, presence of guns, minor character death (unknown person), mentions of blood, etcetera

(I don’t think it’s scary at all but people have said so, so… beware?)

Louis mewls, head knocking back against the cool surface of the tiled walls with a clang. He doesn’t notice, not when Harry Styles is sucking unforgiving kisses down the length of his throat, licking up his pulse almost animalistically.

The hard thumping of the bass reverberates through the wall behind him and sinks into his back, muted sounds of laughing and screaming slipping through and curling into his ears. Louis doesn’t pay any of it any attention.

He lets out a small whine when Harry bites down on his collarbone before making his way back up to Louis’ parted lips, immediately sucking the bottom one into his mouth. Their lips slide together like a symphony, slow and methodical but still passionate and all-encompassing.

Harry is unrelenting, large hands bracing Louis up against the wall, fingers rubbing circles into the skin of his thighs almost possessively. He’s got Louis caged up against the tiles, broad figure covering Louis’ own and hiding him from view if any unsuspecting persons were to enter the bathroom within the next few minutes-

Or half an hour.

Because that’s how long they spend snogging in the bathrooms like they’re bloody teenagers- not that he particularly minds. Louis’ fingers roam over the expanse of Harry’s torso, brushing over the exposed triangle of skin on Harry’s chest where his sleek black button-up has been undone.

Harry hands’ slide around to cup his arse, squeezing and kneading at the flesh unabashedly. He’s all-consuming and intense as he slowly takes Louis apart.

He moans into Harry’s lips, yelping when the bastard bites down hard enough to taste blood. The sting sends a thrill through his veins. God, he’s been wanting this for six months but none of his fantasies can compare to the feeling of Harry’s hands on him, confident and greedy and reverent all at once.

Harry started working at the firm last November and Louis was instantly smitten by his dashing looks and endless charm. However, the true attraction grew as he realized how clever and intelligent and kind he was. How genuine and confident, but still humble and self-aware he is all the time.

It didn’t take long for him to develop a crush, pining after the attorney from afar while doing his own duties as a swamped paralegal in a small firm. Harry and him didn’t talk that often but when they did, they talked for ages, known to have long discussions in the break room where Louis’ tea had long gone cold yet he still clasped it to his chest shyly or endless banter and back-and-forths filled with wit and snarky jabs while in the company of other people until Niall jeers at them to, “Get a room!”

There was this profound connection between them from the very first day, a pulsing link that pulled them together in every room, almost alive.

And Louis has been yearning for it. Months and months of build-up, of chemistry and sexual tension, have led to this moment.

They’re at some club celebrating the victory of one of the biggest cases their local firm has ever seen. Harry had headed the case along with fellow attorney Liam Payne. They’ve been working on it for about three months now but the verdict came in yesterday.

They won.

And now the entire branch is out revelling in it. This sort of win can attract a lot of new customers, has the ability to put them on the map.

Louis may just be a paralegal, but his pride and happiness is monumental.

He showed up an hour before, letting Niall sling an arm around his shoulders and drag him into doing shots with the rest of the troupe. Then Louis weaved his way onto the dance floor, swaying and moving to the beat in his sweat-slick blouse and skintight jeans.

And then he saw Harry.

He had looked like an otherworldly being when Louis first spotted him in the crowd, people parting as he made his way to Louis with a steely look on his face and dressed impeccably in a black button-up and black jeans.

They drifted towards each other like twin magnets, Harry’s hands locking in around his waist and Louis’ fingers digging into his biceps.

Needless to say, they were stumbling into the bathroom within minutes.

Louis whimpers as Harry rubs one of his nipples through the material of his flimsy sheer top and leans down to mouth over it right after, soothing the sting. They came in here for a quickie but they haven’t quite gotten there yet, each other getting too distracted by the other’s lips and body.

Not that Louis is complaining.

Harry kisses his way back up to Louis’ lips yet again, shoving him further up against the wall. Louis’ spine straightens against the hard surface, body quivering from desperation and arousal. Harry’s so fucking strong, god.

He digs his fingers into Harry’s styled hair, undoubtedly messing it up. Harry doesn’t seem to mind, letting out a low groan before biting down hard on Louis’ bottom lip.

Harry bites his earlobe next, breath fanning across the sensitive skin of his neck. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

Louis shivers. “What?” he breathes.

He can feel Harry’s smirk before he speaks, “Take you out to dinner.”

Louis shudders, head slumping back against the wall with a small thud. “Is that a threat?”

“S’a promise, baby,” Harry murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to his pulse. The tender action is a stark contrast from the frantic desperation of the past half an hour. Louis is still not complaining. “I don’t want the first time I have you be in a public restroom for a club quickie,” he continues, teeth grazing Louis’ throat teasingly. “You deserve better than that.”

“What if I want it?” Louis breathes, slowly grinding his hips down and forward, savoring Harry’s replying hiss of pleasure, hips bucking to meet Louis’. “What if I need it?”

Harry’s eyes are dark when Louis blinks coyly at him. He wore his best mascara tonight so he knows his eyes look sexy as fuck. Harry leans in close, lips brushing his torturously light. “If you need it, sweetheart, then who am I to-”

A loud thump has them both going rigid in place, spinning to face the now open door where Liam Payne is staring at them in horror.

“Oh, fuck, I didn’t need to see this,” Liam exclaims, slapping a hand over his eyes dramatically. “Harry, the boss wants to speak to us… Like now.”

Harry groans, head dropping to Louis’ shoulder.

Louis grins despite himself, patting Harry’s head softly. “S’okay, Styles. You can still take me to dinner.”

Harry chuckles into his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there before gently setting Louis down. He grips Louis by the chin and kisses him firmly on the lips again. It was innocent but Louis is still left breathless and wanting.

Damn Liam and damn Saunders.

“Now,” Liam repeats, still covering his face.

Louis huffs. “We’re decent, Payne.”

Liam slowly peeks out over his fingers, looking skeptical. When he sees them standing over a foot apart, he lowers them fully, frowning. “Excuse me for being cautious,” he sniffs, before turning to Harry and gesturing to the door impatiently.

Harry grabs Louis’ hand and presses a lingering kiss to the back of it, whispering, “See you later, Lou.” Then he leaves with one last heated glance over his shoulder.

Louis stands there for another three minutes waiting for his heart to calm down, skin tingling with the ghost of Harry’s lips.

Then he goes and gets a drink.

It’s about an hour later when Louis starts getting restless. Harry and Liam aren’t back yet so Louis has been hanging out with Niall and Liam’s boyfriend, Zayn.

Zayn is an art therapist and he and Louis met over a year ago, introduced by Liam. They’ve become good friends over the course of firm events, parties, and other occasions. However, today Zayn is not his usual, sharp self. He’s feeling under the weather, skin gaunt and eyes lined with dark bags.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t take you home?” Louis asks for the dozenth time, rubbing soothing circles into the man’s shoulder. “You need rest, babe.”

“I’ll be fine,” Zayn insists, but his strained frown says otherwise. “Besides, you shouldn’t leave. You’ve been waiting for this to happen for months.”

Louis blushes, mind wandering back to Harry’s arms around him, Harry’s hands on him, the potential of Harry’s cock in him… He shakes it off, slipping on a determined expression. “That’s probably not even going to happen tonight. But what will happen if I don’t take you home is that you’ll get sick and be miserable.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” Zayn protests, looking ruffled but still miserable.

“No offense, Z, but you look like you’re going to fall over if you try to walk by yourself,” Louis says gently. “Let me help you, m’kay?”

Zayn sighs. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

“I’m not above following you home either,” Louis jokes, shrugging casually. He squeezes Zayn’s shoulder, smiling when Zayn rolls his eyes and nods, giving in. “Okay, let’s go!”

“Let me text Liam,” Zayn says quickly right as Louis stands up. “You should tell Harry too.”

“You’re right,” Louis says, pulling out his phone.

He indulges his desire to wallow for a minute, frowning as he types out: zayn’s sick and I’m taking him home. raincheck? :(

Surprisingly, Harry replies immediately.

I guess it’s a good thing. Saunders is having us work out some final details for the case report. It’ll take another hour or so.

poor harry :o

>:(

dinner Sunday night? I’ll pick you up :))

sounds decent :))

He’s smiling giddily at his phone, excited with the promise of a date tomorrow night. He knows he’s blushing too but he can’t help it. Harry just makes him feel so many things. God, he can’t wait.

A final text from Harry sends right then: Text me when you get home safe xx

okay, will do xx

Zayn clears his throat and Louis startles, lips parting in surprise. Zayn sends him a knowing look and Louis elbows him, face burning. “Fuck off,” he mutters. “You and Liam are practically married.”

“If he ever proposes,” Zayn says sadly, looking woeful.

“He will! He’s just slow sometimes,” Louis insists, smirking.

Zayn elbows him back.

Liam drove Zayn to the club and Louis took the Tube so that’s the plan they settle on for getting to Zayn and Liam’s flat, catching the first one at the station and plopping down on the metal seats next to each other. Zayn’s flat is about five stops away but Louis doesn’t plan on keeping track of it- that’s always Zayn’s job.

Their knees knock together as they lean in to whisper to each other, Zayn interrogating him for more information on what happened earlier that night.

He cackles when Louis gets to the part about Liam walking in on Louis and Harry. “I guess it’s only karma,” he muses. “Since Harry’s walked in on me and Liam-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Louis interrupts, sticking his tongue out childishly.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “No need to act all innocent when you were that close to letting Harry fuck you against the bathroom wall… while the door was unlocked.”

“Shut up,” Louis hisses, face burning when the woman next to him shoots him a reproachful look. “You’re supposed to be miserable right now, not making me miserable.”

Zayn coughs exaggeratedly, feigning a look of pain and adding a shuddery sigh for extra dramatics.

“I hate you,” Louis states flatly.

“You’re just moody because Harry didn’t-”

Louis pokes Zayn in the ribs, affronted. Zayn pokes him back, eliciting a breathy yelp. Their almost-tickle fight is cut off as the train comes to an abrupt halt. Louis furrows his eyebrows, glancing out the windows to see the familiar glaring white of the tunnel. They’re not at the next stop yet which means they’ve stopped for another reason.

“Are you fucking serious?” a man asks across the car.

They wait a few seconds but the train stays in place. Technical difficulties, he figures, groaning. “Really, Universe?” he whispers, disgruntled. He wants to go home and bundle up in blankets and replay the events of the bathroom over and over until he’s blushing and itching to go plan out his outfit for their date tomorrow night. But yet again, his plans are interrupted.

Instead of the usual intercom explanation where the driver would offer an estimated wait time for whatever happened to be fixed, the speakers stay completely silent. Nothing but the soft breathing of Zayn and the random woman on his left to cut through the ominous atmosphere. A prickle runs down Louis’ spine and he shivers. It feels almost… eerie.

As if sensing his discomfort, the lights switch off suddenly. Louis sucks in a breath, waiting. They don’t come back on. The prickling feeling grows, spreading down his limbs to his quivering fingers.

Next to him, Zayn’s hand fumbles for his, squeezing. Louis squeezes back, unnerved.

“Why isn’t there an announcement?” someone asks a bit further ahead.

Louis shudders again, tugging the sleeves of his jacket further over his pale fingers. It feels like all the heat in the air has been zapped out, a frosty chill settling over the train car.

A sudden loud thud has them all stilling in their seats. Louis exhales jaggedly, squeezing Zayn’s hand again. What the fuck is happening?

“There’s no service,” someone says. That’s less surprising- plenty of tunnels in London have spotty or nonexistent service, and yet now it feels almost threatening. “Wait, what the fuck? Now it’s dead? I just charged it!”

A litany of alarmed cries and words erupt after that realization. Louis bites his lip as he pulls his phone out of his pocket only to see that his too is dead.

The curling sense of dread in his stomach is ever growing, licking up his insides and clawing up his throat until it feels dry and useless.

“What’s happening?” Zayn asks, sounding panicked.

“It’s going to be okay,” someone else says, but there’s uncertainty laced in her words.

Louis has taken the Tube almost every day for the past five years, relying on it to get him everywhere since he doesn’t have a car and hates driving. Never once has anything like this ever happened. His heart is pounding in fear and apprehension.

And then, the lights flicker back on.

Standing in the middle of the car are three masked figures, dressed in all black and carrying guns.

A collective gasp rings through the silent car and bile rises in Louis’ throat, heart thumping against his chest excruciatingly. Holy fuck…

They stand there silently, looming and intimidating and blocking the main entrance. Their masks are almost Opera style, embellished with lace filigree and decals, covering the entire face. Even the eyeholes are covered with crimson gauzy fabric, looking stark and morbid.

How did they get in here? Louis wonders, feeling sick. He feels even more sick when he realizes he might not make it home tonight.

The middle stranger steps forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, you have been picked for a once in a lifetime opportunity.” His voice is low and threatening, mechanical, as if he’s using a voice modifier.

The doors slide open behind him and another three figures step into the car, appearing out of thin air. Louis bites back the urge to cry, especially when his eyes latch onto the rope and cloths grasped in their gloved hands.

The first woman to be grabbed screams. Loud and thrashing as they subdue her, pinning her wrists and tying them together with the thick rope. She’s gagged and blindfolded, shoved outside of the cart and against the wall, less than a meter from the train car.

“If any of you choose to not cooperate,” says the same masked man from before, “Well…” He points his gun to the ceiling and shoots, crumbling pieces of laminate raining down to the chorus of a dozen cries.

Louis is frozen in place, hand rigid in Zayn’s.

The strangers work efficiently and quickly, spreading out to apprehend as many people as possible. Louis suppresses a sob when Zayn is ripped away from him. No one seems to resist, all stunned and scared into submission. Most of the people here are young- college students dressed like they were out partying and having a blast. Their faces are now ashen, lips wobbling and shrinking into their miniskirts and tight jeans.

Louis realizes with poignant relief that there are no kids in this car, and then suddenly he’s grabbed too. His lips part on a silent scream as his hands are wrenched behind his back and tied, rope scraping against his bare wrists painfully.

A gag is shoved into his mouth and he chokes, eyes blinking with an onset of tears right as the blindfold is fastened over them rendering him blind. He’s stuck.

A rough hand is placed between his shoulder blades, shoving him forward. With his sight taken away, his other senses have heightened.

He stumbles, tripping over an abandoned shoe or handbag or anything, before he’s flailing in the open air as he falls forward. They pushed him out of the train car. His breathing hitches, body locking in anticipation of meeting death only to crash into the hard wall.

He lets out a choked groan, nose throbbing from where it knocked into the wall. If it’s not broken, it’s definitely bruised. The thick heat of blood trickles over his gag, staining his lips. His heart thrashes against his ribs. He’s definitely trembling now.

Another rough hand shoves him forward and he stumbles, almost bumping into another person. Another prisoner, he realizes. They’re being forced to walk sideways to fit in the small space between the train and the tunnel wall.

The person next to him whimpers, the sound muted and strangled.

Louis breathes harshly, neck craning back as if it’d help him escape the onslaught of sweat, dirt, and the earthy engine odor that’s a common smell for the Tube but now just feels nauseating.

I’m going to die, Louis thinks hysterically. He’s being kidnapped, bound and gagged like a prisoner. He’s never going to sleep in his bed again. Never going to law school, never going to be a lawyer, never going to get married or have kids or grow old.

They walk for what seems like miles, feet stumbling to the right almost subconsciously. At one point, Louis hears a distinct crash and a strangled roar of anger, before it’s drowned out by a deafening gunshot.

It rings through the open tunnel warningly. Louis swallows another wave of bile.

Someone has died and he’ll never know who it was. One of the uni girls and boys? The elderly man reading the newspaper and looking exhausted. One of the agitated looking businessmen undoubtedly on their way home, maybe to a wife or husband and kids?

He chokes out a sob, devastated and disgusted.

For a while it seems like they’ll never make it out of the tunnel, will be staggering deeper into the darkness for eternity. But then a loud screech of, “Stop!” cuts through the air, cold and sinister. Everyone freezes.

A few minutes later, Louis is hoisted up and over something, right foot hitting something solid and throbbing with pain.

He’s shoved up into a mass of people, all whimpering or crying softly into their gags. He still can’t see a thing, vision completely dark. Once again, they’re herded forward like cattle and then to the right and forward and to the left and forward and forward and forward.

Louis is feeling dizzy with exhaustion by the time he’s finally yanked into some sort of vehicle. Probably a truck or something considering the amount of people crammed in there with him. The telltale sound of tires screeching is alarming and profound.

They’re leaving. Kidnapped, taken, trapped. Like something out of a movie except it’s frighteningly real.

And no one is coming to rescue them, Louis thinks deliriously. They couldn’t call for help and Louis doubts the driver had time to radio in an emergency before he was probably shot and killed.

No one is coming… At least not yet, but by the time they do, it’ll be too late. He thinks faintly of his mum, his sisters, Niall, Liam, Harry… He’s never going to see any of them again.

God, he doesn’t even know if he’ll get to see Zayn again before they’re slaughtered or sacrificed or whatever the fuck is going to happen to them. This isn’t anything Louis has been expected to prepare for. This is something out of a horror movie…or a thriller novel where the main characters either die or survive by the skin of their teeth.

But Louis is not a protagonist of an action novel. He has no skills for this sort of thing, overwhelmed by his terror and weaknesses.

He’s going to die alone and unknown.

Despite his depressing thoughts, he dozes in and out of fitful sleep for the next few fours. They’re definitely not in London anymore by the time the truck finally stops.

Louis prepares himself for the inevitable rough handling but still winces when he’s hoisted out of the truck and onto the floor, stumbling forward and almost slamming into another prisoner. His shoulder smarts, stinging distractedly as he’s pushed into another line. It’s a mess of thumps and thuds and gasps and whimpers and muffled cries.

It feels like he’s standing on hot asphalt, a putrid chemical and metal odor burning his nostrils as he inhales deeply, throat dry and scratchy. They seem like they’re outside and yet it’s much too humid and hot for London’s typical May weather. A timid breeze brushes over his sweating face, cold against the dried blood on his nose.

A loud, hoarse voice breaks through the chaos, threatening and foreboding. Louis’ blood runs cold at the sinister tone which seems to come from everywhere at once. “Welcome to the Masquerade.”

*coming soon to falsegoodnight

#drabbles #wips #snippet #cult fic #thoughts???#👀#scheduled

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inwritemind-blog · 8 years ago

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Love & Anachronism

“Darling, I’m home!” Guy’s voice rings out from down the front hall of our apartment, “You have your dancing shoes on? Louis won’t wait, you know.”

We’re headed out for a night on the town; dinner, dancing, drinks… Oh. Not drinks. I’ve been here a year now, but prohibition is the one thing I can’t seem to get used to. I would have thought it would be the lack of internet, but not knowing what college classmates are eating for dinner or how many times a co-worker’s toddler managed to use the big girl potty on any given day is actually quite refreshing. And, somehow, I feel much healthier without WebMD constantly suggesting that I'm dying of cancer every time I have a sniffle. Who would’ve thought, right?

“El, I’m not getting any younger here…” Guy is growing impatient, but he sounds more amused than annoyed.

“I’m just putting on a smidge of lipstick—one moment!” That sounds right, right? A smidge? I studied plenty, but getting used to period-appropriate language might be even more difficult than adjusting to life without alcohol.

“I’m sure you’re beautiful, doll. Let’s go! Louis Armstrong is a hot ticket and we don’t want to be late!”

Louis Armstrong. I, Elizabeth Shea Sutton, am going to see Louis Armstrong and His Hot Five. Previously, this level of excitement was reserved only for an *NSYNC reunion tour (just wait, it’s going to happen). But it’s a new time… Well, it’s new to me anyway.

I grab my fringed shawl and scurry into the foyer where Guy is waiting with his coat on. He’s a vision of classic Hollywood—tall with broad shoulders, a strong chin, and soft eyes. His thatch of dirty blonde hair is combed back tonight, neatly coiffed atop his head. He lowers his chin, peers up at me from under his brow, and smiles before cocking his head on an angle, spilling his grin in the direction of its tilt.

“Worth the wait.”

Swoon. I flutter my eyelashes dramatically a la Lana Turner or some equally dazzling vintage, silver screen starlet Guy couldn’t possibly get the reference to (considering most of them are currently in diapers).

“Shall we?” He takes my hand and holds the door. Such a gentleman.

It’s only once we get outside that I realize Guy has a car waiting. A nice car. A really nice car. He has plenty of money—made it all in the stock market; I’m pretty sure he’s an economic genius, but he chalks it all up to luck. So humble. I really need to find a way to subtly suggest he move his money before the big crash (without mentioning the crash, of course).… What day was it again? I should have paid closer attention in history class. It was definitely sometime in 1929. Er, it will be.

We pull up to the venue and there’s a line out the door that serpentines around the block.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get in no problem.” Guy turns to me and smirks, “I know a guy…”

“Yeah, me too.” I flirtatiously rejoin. He doesn’t get it.

He pays the driver, who walks around the car to open the door for us and as Guy steps out onto the sidewalk, something falls out of his coat pocket. I reach down to retrieve it for him, but the moment it’s in my hand I freeze. Impossible.

“Guy…” I hear my own voice trailing off, echoing into oblivion.

He turns around, his charming grin quickly morphing to a panicked grimace.

I hear myself speak again, but don't feel my lips moving.

“Guy... What is this?”

But I know what it is. It’s an iPhone.

___________________________________________ He begins to regain his composure. "Oh, that?! I don't know... I found it on the sidewalk earlier-- off Broadway. Someone must have dropped it; I guess I forgot it was in my coat. Never seen anything like it. You either, huh?" My bewildered expression must be working for me. Of course, it also must match the level of bewilderment that a girl actually from this time would have possessed upon seeing an iPhone. How convenient. "No...I, I haven't." Maybe he's telling the truth. Maybe he did just find it. Maybe it fell out of some other time traveler's pocket-- someone careless enough to go back in time with their goddamn smart phone. Maybe. ...Maybe? He eagerly reaches out to snatch the device. Maybe not. I pull my hand away, just out of his reach and inspect the phone as though it's something new and foreign. Somehow it feels that way. It's protected by a leather case the color of roasted coffee, with a magnetic flap that finds its place comfortably over the glassy screen. Unless you saw it up close, you might assume it was simply a nice wallet. Clever. I turn it over and notice the letters A.G.W. embossed on the back side of its case. Considering Weston is my new last name-- the one I acquired three months ago when I married Guy-- this is looking less and less like a coincidence. "Elizabeth" His voice is stern, but softens when I look up at him, "Can I have that ...thing... back now? We're gonna miss the show." I look back down at the phone. This isn't the place. Or the time. Plus, he was right earlier, Louis won't wait. We make our way from the back of the concert hall, through the crowd, and over to coat-check. He thinks I don't notice, but I see Guy furtively slip the phone into the deep, front right pocket of his slacks before handing our coats over to a girl with short, brown curls . He turns back around without making eye contact and grabs my hand, and we weave our way through the throng of people all the way up to the stage. There he is: Louis Armstrong, as I live and breathe. He was also living and breathing, something that I, for most of my life, wouldn't have expected to see. Hearing him play and thinking back on all the times I had listened to "Closer" by the Chainsmokers, I'm suddenly embarrassed for myself. Here is this brilliant musician, eons ahead of his time, a product of it, and absolutely perfect for it all at once; this man would change the face of jazz forever. And I spent my time in the future listening to frat boys sing about tattoos and stolen mattresses over and over again. Louis once said "If you have to ask what Jazz is, you'll never know." That, ladies and gentlemen, is the epitome of cool. The Chainsmokers list the combined length of their penises on their website. I'm not making that up.

The reverence and wonder of seeing a living legend perform should have lasted a little longer than it did, especially considering it was a living legend who had died nearly twenty years before I was born. But I was preoccupied and the show was mostly a blur. I had too many questions. Leaving the venue, Guy hails us a cab. I wish I could say that I was still buzzing over the once-in-a-past-lifetime experience I was privileged enough to have just received, but my thoughts were wandering back to the iPhone and the infinite number of things I could have-- should have-- done. I should have asked more questions. I should have taken it out of that leather case. I should have turned it on. How would he explain that? ... How would I? "So, what'd you think of the show?" He breaks the silence and my train of thought.

"It was amazing." I flatly reply. Not exactly convincing.

He lets out a muted grunt of agreement and shifts awkwardly in the seat of the cab. This might be the first uncomfortable moment of our marriage. Hell, of our entire relationship. Not that it's been very long... I met him about nine months ago, right after I made the plunge into this decade. We dated for six months before eloping in Maine; it was a whirlwind romance, as they say. But it just felt right. It felt right from the very first moment. And I knew this was home. We both did. Because we knew each other. Well... I thought we did.

"Penny?" He turns to me with a halfhearted smile. I couldn't really tell if it was a statement or a question. Penny is short for penny for your thoughts, but it also doubles as I love you. I caught him drifting in and out a daydream one morning over breakfast and coyly asked him for a penny for his thoughts; he blurted out that he loved me. That was the first time he said it. It was ours from then on; something we'd say to each other time and again-- too obvious to be our own little code, but at the same time being hole-and-corner enough to feel like it was.

"Still thinking about Louis." He knows it's a lie. "His cheeks must get really tired; have you ever played a trumpet? Because I have. It's not easy." I shake my head. My mouth is moving faster than my thoughts can keep up, and I'm starting to just sound silly. He gives me a good effort at a genuine smile, but it wouldn't have won him any Academy Awards. Luckily, the cab is just pulling up to our building, allowing me to escape the tension but, unfortunately, not my thoughts. We get inside, hang our coats, and head to the kitchen for our night cap: a glass of warm milk. It's a nightly routine. Guy puts his hands on my shoulders, pulling me in close and kissing me on the forehead. I furrow my brow. "Can I see the ph-- uhm, the thing? That thing that fell out of your pocket earlier..." I'm going for it. "Oh, yeah! Of course! Maybe you'll be better than I am at determining what it is." That was easier than I thought. Maybe he really did find it on the street. Guy walks back out of the room and I hear him call me name. Walking into the foyer, I find him frantically searching through his coat pockets... Of course. Brilliant. "It's not here!" I catch a sigh before it escapes my lips, and channel my exasperation into faux concern. "The girl in coach-check must have taken it. People these days, huh? Rummaging through pockets that aren't theirs. The nerve." He glances out the corner of his eyes to catch my expression. I've got a pretty solid poker face, but couldn't hide my disappointment-- disappointment in him that he misinterpreted as disappointment in the situation (and the coat-check girl). He let out a long sigh. "Ah, well... Who cares?" He looks relieved and gives me a crooked smile while re-hanging his coat. "It's probably just junk anyway." I look down, my eyes locked on the unmistakeable rectangular shape of a phone protruding from the pocket of his slacks. I have to get my hands on that phone again.

#short story #writing #writing prompts #reddit

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riffrelevant · 6 years ago

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Article By: Pat ‘Riot’ Whitaker, Senior Writer/Journalist ‡ Edited By: Leanne Ridgeway, Owner/Chief Editor

It is March 25th, 1988 and Night Flight, a late night visual arts and variety show on television’s USA Network each weekend, is about to show viewers something entirely different… and they shall never be the same.

It is, of course, the age of the music video and this program is on the verge of airing one titled “Prime Mover” from the British sleaze rock act, ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION. The number is musically inspired by the U.K. space rock collective Hawkwind’s 1977 track “Quark, Strangeness And Charm“, its video directed by Adrian “Ade” Edmondson of “The Young Ones” fame. Ultimately, neither one of these facts will mean much of anything when people get an eyeful of this leather-clad band, and then hear their music. Yes, it is the latter that they’re going to find most impressive, hopefully… or altogether hate.

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Mark Manning is a graphic artist at the time, and former art editor at the then-defunct Flexipop! Magazine that had folded in 1982. It was while working there that Manning was introduced to a frequently visiting flow of rock stars and their hedonistically decadent lifestyles… and he wants in. It would be a few years still, but soon enough, Manning is working as a graphic designer at another publication, Metal Fury, when he begins to undergo a transformation.

The change is taking place during his hours off from work, Manning experiencing an evolutionary-like leap (or in some’s eyes, perhaps a devolution) on the scale of characters from Robert Louis Stevenson’s literary work, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Much like that strange case, Mark assumes an alter ego role, that of Zodiac Mindwarp – an anti-social looking sort, like a greasy biker from the cast of some forgotten 70’s exploitative B-movie. What he is, and what he has become, is something that really surprises no one that has known Manning for any length of time, and soon, he aligns himself with similar like-minded outcasts.

ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION is officially given life in 1985, joining Zed (as he is known to his friends) in the band are guitarist Rockman Rock (aka Jimmy Cauty), bassist Kid Chaos (aka Stephen Harris), and drummer Boom Boom Kaboomski (real name unavailable). Of course the latter part of the band’s name was culled from the most unlikeliest of sources, but there it was, in the lyrics of the third verse of The Boss’ “Dancing In The Dark“.

Soon, the band is signed to the Phonogram Records subsidiary, the Food label, and 1986 would be the year that ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION begin their campaign to dominate Rock ‘N Roll. It begins in May that year with the “Wild Child” single, recorded with Zodiac on vocals and guitar, Kid Chaos on bass, and Jake Le Mesurier on drums. The band’s name has already become a thing of high praise and acclaim among the denizens of the “Grebo” movement (or “Grebo rock”), a British musical sub-genre incorporating influences from punk rock, electronic dance music, hip hop, and psychedelia.

Though ZM&TLR look the part of the term’s earliest intended targets – the word “grebo” was originally used as a slang term for bikers and rock music fans with long hair – the word is being re-fashioned by the group Pop Will Eat Itself in 1986. They use it in song titles and soon, it becomes a thing unto itself, a music genre sublet that in time will include such acts as Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, The Wonder Stuff, Scum Pups, Jesus Jones, and Gaye Bykers On Acid. Before ’86 is over, ZM&TLR release the “High Priest Of Love” EP which soon lands in the #1 slot of the U.K. Indie Chart.

Truth is, ZM&TLR are pretty much the antithesis of the Grebo look, a polar opposite to its colorful shorts and clean shaves. Zed & Co. opt for a rather more psychedelic, drug addled, Mad Max-ian appearance melded with the German SS ala iron crosses, skulls, black leather, and sometimes, storm trooper helmets.

#gallery-0-3 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-3 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-3 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-3 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

HIGH PRIEST OF LOVE EP

TATTOOED BEAT MESSIAH

By the end of 1986, ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION play the U.K.’s packed Reading Festival before thousands of fans. Not bad for a band that had their first gig at the 500 capacity Dingwalls in London less than a year before. Yes, it is evident that the band’s misanthropic imagery is not having an anti-social effect whatsoever, and even more intriguing, their music and its lyrical contents are finding an audience. Chock full of flamboyant, chest-thumping proclamations derived from a raging libido, Mindwarp’s tongue-in-cheek ravings are pure camp despite their often lascivious and misogynist tone.

By the next year, the band has new blood in the form of lead guitarist Cobalt Stargazer (real name Geoff Bird), rhythm guitarist Flash Bastard (real name Jan Cyrka), and drummer Slam Thunderhide (real name Stephen Landrum). Also, bassist Kid Chaos has left to join another popular rising band, The Cult, so enter Trash D. Garbage (real name Paul Bailey). The band continues their ascension to sonic glory with more U.K. single releases in 1987, including “Prime Mover” and “Backseat Education“.

However, for any British band, there is only one thing that seems to equate as having “made it” or being successful, and that is acceptance across the pond, in the United States. In February of 1988, ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION release their first full-length album, “Tattooed Beat Messiah“, through the Vertigo label, another subsidiary of Phonogram. The album contains remixed versions of the singles released the previous year, alongside several new songs too, including a cover of the Steppenwolf classic, “Born To Be Wild“, in some markets.

The album explodes in a music scene being dominated by acts like Poison and Bon Jovi but true anti-authoritarian types know the deal. “Tattooed Beat Messiah” is the dividing line, where such horrid pop fluff shall not pass, and it spawns several subsequent video tie-ins to tracks like “Backseat Education“, “Planet Girl“, and of course, “Prime Mover“.

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Ultimately, it has the desired outcome as ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION are placed on a 1988 U.S. tour bill, alongside Guns & Roses, supporting Alice Cooper. After just a few dates, ZM&TLR are bumped up on the roster, now playing after G ‘N R , before Alice Cooper. Several of the band members appear with Slash, Axl Rose and Alice Cooper in a performance of Cooper’s “Under My Wheels” for the feature film music documentary, “The Decline Of Western Civilization: Part II“.

Tours with Motörhead and Iron Maiden only serve to increase the frenzied hysteria about the band, it’s growing like a raging wildfire and soon, they’re designated the new rock royalty, placing them in the ranks of bands like Circus Of Power, Warrior Soul, and Monster Magnet.

Yet, for every high there is a low, for every climb, a descent, and somehow, some way, ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION were about to experience theirs. At some point in all of this, the band is informed that “Tattooed Beat Messiah” failed to sell well in the United States, resulting in them being dropped by their record label while burdened with large, outstanding debts. It doesn’t add up, literally, as the album had ignited like a fuse, spawning five official videos that received regular rotation airplay on MTV, and the channel’s “Headbangers Ball“. That show’s host, Ricki Rachtman, claims the band as one of his all time favorites, and one of the most underrated bands of the era.

Not ready to give up the ghost yet, ZM&TLR release a sophomore album, “Hoodlum Thunder“, through the only label that would seemingly sign them at this point, Musidisc. Despite critical acclaim for the album, there is no hysterical fanfare this time, no arenas to rock, yet it’s probably a safe bet that some grope-ready groupies still thronged the band. The album spawns a handful of singles including “Elvis Died For You” and “Meanstreak“, and one of its cuts, “Feed My Frankenstein“, ends up being re-recorded by Alice Cooper, and released on his 1991 Hey Stoopid album (and featured in the 1992 movie Wayne’s World).

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Truth is, things will never quite be the same for ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION as they increasingly cycle through a revolving door of musicians. This includes bassists Suzi X, Tex Diablo and Kev Reverb, along with such drummers as Robbie Vom and The Apocalypse. They continue to release consistent output like “Live At Reading“, “My Life Story“, and “One More Knife”, but the band eventually goes on a hiatus, remaining inactive for a decade before resurfacing again around 2002.

“I Am Rock” arrives that year, another live album, “Weapons Of Mass Destruction” in 2004, “Rock Savage” in 2005, and the following year, 2006 brings “Pandora’s Grisly Handbag”, a 1986 live album and DVD pairing. Through all of this, the persona and over-the-top character that is Zodiac Mindwarp never dilutes nor seeks a PG rating. The dangerously deranged, gargantuan genius of Mark Manning continues to expand, authoring multiple books containing memoirs about his sordid sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll experiences simultaneously as the band issues albums.

In 1996, he pens Bad Wisdom (with Bill Drummond), while Crucify Me Again (2000), Get Your Cock Out (2000), Fucked By Rock: The Unspeakable Confessions Of Zodiac Mindwarp (2001), Collateral Damage, and The Wild Highway (2005, again with Drummond) all follow.

2010’s “We Are Volsung” album, featuring the cast of Zodiac Mindwarp with guitarist Cobalt Stargazer, bassist Jack Shitt, and drummer Bruno ‘The Cat’ Agua, is released via SPV/Steamhammer. Recently, the current edition of ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION featuring Z and Cobalt, Beast Of Ante (bass) and the returned Robbie Vom (drums), have toured in celebration of the 30th anniversary of the “Tattooed Beat Messiah” release.

When all is said and done, the larger than life cosmic rock deity that is Zodiac Mindwarp, as well as his more human alter ego, Mark Manning, will be a subject regaled across the infinite celestial. Tales, legends and mythologies, if not entire theologies, will be devoted to the praise and edification of the Tattooed Beat Messiah. You know, the “Christ in shades“, the “napalm god“, the “Sex führer, baby”, the “love dictator…living detonator“- Mister Prime Mover himself.

Oldschool Sunday: ZODIAC MINDWARP AND THE LOVE REACTION Article By: Pat 'Riot' Whitaker, Senior Writer/Journalist ‡ Edited By: Leanne Ridgeway, Owner/Chief Editor It is March 25th, 1988 and…

#Album Art #Cobalt Stargazer #Mark Manning #Metal #MTV #Musidisc #Night Flight #Official Video #Oldschool Sunday #Phonogram Records #Psychedelia #Rock #SPV/Steamhammer #Vertigo #YouTube #Zodiac Mindwarp & The Love Reaction

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