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coupleoffanfics · 1 year ago

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Hey, it’s almost 1am and I’m riding the angst train I wanted to ask ur opinion on something.

How would the fam react to Y/n getting grievously I hired or dying by the hands of a villain or by Jeremiah and getting caught in the crossfire???

��️❤️❤️

I'm so glad that people like reading my stuff. It's more self-indulgent, but what fanfic isn't self-indulgent?

Anyway, I'm so excited by seeing this ask because it sounds fun to write about. Let's start with the "less" angsty one. y/n getting gravely injured (I'm assuming that's a typo) by a villain.

TW: Mention of suicidal ideation once and gore.

Getting Gravely Injured by a Villain

It'd depend on the Villain. The family is going to act accordingly in their personas. Their punches are probably hitting harder than usual.

Jason might shoot the villain in the head, but ultimately can't. He's in Gotham following the Bat's rules slightly. So he'll just shoot their knee.

y/n isn't Batgirl anymore. So that means the villain must know the publicity they'll get by attacking, kidnapping, or holding a minor celebrity would give them. The fact that it's Bruce Wayne's daughter who's painted out to be a saint by the media would spread like wildfire. They'd have to be doing it to get attention or money.

How severely y/n was harmed doesn't matter too much. Bruised, broken bones, stabbed, etc are going to make the family more protective. Trying to persuade y/n into coming back to the manor, so that they can keep her close and prevent this from happening again.

Now the Valeska twins will differ in how y/n gets hurt and their reaction.

Jerome is like a child on a sugar high when with y/n. Wouldn't deliberately harm her in any way. Kidnaps y/n and go on a joy ride around the city even though she has no choice and isn't finding any joy from this. She'll probably get a scrape on her legs or arms from falling because Jerome is running too fast while he is holding her arm. Maybe have a bruised arm or wrist because of how tightly he holds her.

He doesn't think too much about things and will get into dangerous situations. Pick a fight or mock the wrong person leading to a shootout. He's having too much fun to care about anyone until y/n is hit.

One of the family members finally caught up to Jerome and was ready to— oh, my God y/n is bleeding from her side! Oh, fuck! AHHH! Jerome knows he can leave y/n in the hands of whatever bat family member showed up. She'll be in good hands while he hunts down the one who shot her.

"I know you're one of the 'good guys', but take care of her. If I hear that you did something that upsets her I'll— actually, I'll keep that a surprise." He looks at y/n who is just bleeding on the floor and in pain with a big ol’ smile. "I'll make sure to give you the head of that fucker who got you. Until then see ya later, toots!"

After that y/n is forced to stay in the manor. They made a deal that it would just be a few weeks, but her stay is indefinite.

Bruce

Opens the door one day to find a large box. It wasn't a delivery because it has no shipping information on it. Just an envelope with y/n's name on top of it. Bruce opens the envelope first and reads the letter which has poor handwriting.

Hey, doll!

Hope you're resting up and not in too much pain. I didn't think picking on a mob boss would get so messy. They just couldn't take a joke. I'll pick a more private place for our next date cuz I know how shy you are. Hope seeing them brightens your day. Made sure to get rid of the eyes since I know how you don't like too many eyes on you. Didn't know who shot you, so I just killed everyone who was there.

Love Jerome.

Bruce doesn't need a minute to take things in. He already knows what's in the box and sends it to the authorities. Does not mention a word of this to y/n. She is already going through a lot and best to not tell her.

He does increase the security around the manor. He ends up putting a tracker on y/n because knowing where she is the only way to keep him from worrying.

This further solidifies that she needs to be in their protection to keep this mentally disturbed boy away. The whole thing is twisted but the line "a more private place" bothers him the most. He's not letting his daughter be alone with Jerome longer than she already has.

Dick

It's early in the morning and Dick wanted to check up on how y/n doing. As he walks up to the manor there's a large box sitting in front of the door. A letter sits on top of it with y/n's name on it. Rips up the envelope and begins reading the letter.

Once Dick was done reading, he looked down at the box. Noticing dried blood around the box. This makes him nauseous and immediately goes to Bruce to inform him. They sent it to authorities so they could identify the heads in the box.

He doesn’t tell y/n or the others about this. Everyone is already in a frenzy from the events prior, so it seemed best to keep this between him, Bruce, and Alfred.

"Made sure to get rid of their eyes," Dick isn't sure why that sticks with him. Maybe it's because he wonders if Jerome beheaded them or took out their eyes first. It doesn't matter though because he needs to keep his little sister safe.

Barbara

Doesn't even want to go near it, checks that there isn't a bomb in there waiting to explode. She takes one peek in the box and immediately looks away. Does not read the letter because what was in the box said what needed to be said. Informs the whole family and that sets the mood for the day.

She checks up on y/n after telling everyone. The poor girl is so overwhelmed by everything that she doesn't want to be around anyone. Spends most of the day with y/n, trying to cheer her up. Get sweets since that's y/n weakness and sugar releases dopamine. She has Alfred cook y/n's comfort food.

The day is meant to help release all of the stress. Barb wasn't sure if it was working until y/n said thank you before going to bed. Barb makes a promise to herself that she'll become better at shielding y/n from this type of depravity.

Jason

Can tell who this is from just by the envelope. y/n's name with little hearts around it. Shoves it into his pocket, he'll give it to y/n when he sees her. Opens the box to be hit with a familiar disgusting odor. Looking inside there are 3 heads. Recognizes one of them being a mod boss he has on his list for a while now.

Jason wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't this. He pulls out the envelope and tears it open to get some sort of context. Reading the letter left him unsettled and a little…satisfied? Grateful maybe? For taking care of those who harmed y/n even though it was entirely Jerome's fault that this happened in the first place.

Closes the box and informs the whole family of what he found. Everyone is put more on edge. y/n isn't allowed out of the manor for a few days. y/n is upset by the news and she’s more quiet the following days.

Jason almost wants to laugh at, "They just couldn't take a joke." Bets that these" jokes" were just thinly veiled threats and pointing a gun at them. He probably would have snickered if this didn't involve y/n.

Tim

All he wanted to do was check the mail. Now he's reading a sort of love letter written by a psycho and looking down at the heads that could not look back at him. Their empty eye sockets had- ugh, God there was so much blood.

Debates on whether he should tell y/n about this, but ends up telling her. There was no point in hiding it because she'll probably find out one way or another. Sees the guilt and horror flash across her face. Wants to comfort her as much as he can, but all she does is detract from him. Of course, when Barb opens her arms y/n jumps into them. What happened to them always being there for each?

Doesn't like, "our next date", one bit. He doesn't like the insinuation or the thought of it. He starts keeping his eyes peeled for Jerome and ears open if anyone has information on where he is or going. The sooner he's in Arkham the safer y/n is from him and going on that next date.

Damian

Not impressed. The delivery was lazy and the writing was so sloppy that he almost couldn't read it. The heads must have been cut with a butter knife with how unclean and jagged the cut is. Every unprofessional. Nonchalantly brings this up at the table during breakfast. Not even when everyone is finished, just right in the middle of it.

Never really had respect for a villain or any, but the whole "Didn't know who shot you, so I just killed everyone" was almost respectable. Damian having a speck of respect doesn't mean he likes Jerome. Still thinks he's stupid and annoying.

He'd give him a 3/10 for the delivery and would not order again.

Per-Spray Jeremiah isn't going to do anything, but Post-Spray Jeremiah is a different story. Will break one of y/n's arms or legs just so that she can't get away from him too easily. Though that's going to the extreme, he's more likely to guilt trip her. Getting into her head isn't hard and more effective.

"I thought you loved me. You were the one who always said you loved me. y/n, who has been here for you the most and always will? Not your best friend, Norah, she's leaving you behind and you know it. Not your family because they never cared about you in the first place. No one will love you like I do. You need me, y/n."

By the time the family saves y/n and brings her back to the cave for medical attention. She's consumed by guilt and almost believes she deserved any harm done to her. Will cry to Barb about this and only Barb.

Concerned by this revelation Barb will tell the whole family. Bruce is worried as it's clear that y/n's mental state is worsening. He knew that it would be after bad being kidnapped by Jeremiah, he just didn't think it would be this bad. Bruce and Tim have the same idea to get y/n another therapist if she's still not seeing one.

Jason and Damian are mad that y/n would think that she deserves any pain. Jason is kinda, sort of, not really more understanding about the whole thing than Damian. He gets how she could feel that she failed Jeremiah. If she has revealed that they had been dating and she can't or won’t give up on him, everyone is conflicted and concerned.

Dick has had the most romantic relationships and will try to convince y/n that Jeremiah is a lost cause now. Leading her to a spiral into a depressive episode. Oops!

If y/n is on the verge of death the family freaking the fuck out. Slowly recovers at the manor and convinces her that staying with them is the best thing for her. Depending on if her injury is life-threatening or not will determine how cooperative she is.

Getting Killed by a Villain

Doesn't matter who it is Jason is shooting them on the spot. Though with how emotional and choked up he's getting, he'll probably miss. Damian would react the same way if his whole body didn't stop upon seeing y/n's lifeless eyes. He doesn't want to step near her to see if it was true that he lost his sister.

Bruce, Dick, and Tim will force themselves to act professionally. They're still in their hero personas and killing was a strict no. If the whole family is there then whoever killed y/n is getting a beating of their life.

It could also depend on who's at the scene. Bruce and Dick hold on to the moral code that killing is wrong. This will prevent any further killings from happening.

Damian and Jason would probably end up killing the villain after seeing y/n's corpse. They know it's not going to bring back y/n, but what else can they do except making the villain to pay their debt?

Tim teeters between the lines. If Bruce or Dick is there then he's on their side of not killing. If it's just Damian and/or Jason then he won't stop them. He won't participate just stands back to let them do their thing.

Depending how and when she died will weigh heavily on their mind. Quick and painless before they got there? At least she didn't have to suffer too much, but still keeps them up at night.

Tortured for hours before succumbing to her injuries? They already feel guilty that they couldn't save her on time, but her last hours of living was being in pain will only intensify it. Out of the whole family, Jason would probably be the most distraught by this. He reopens old wounds and memories. y/n meeting a similar end is horrifying to him.

Get there on time, but it’s too late to save her from her injuries. Then slowly dies in their arms. If they're all there then y/n is dying in Bruce's arms.

"Please tell Jeremiah, I'm sorry and- and that I love him. Tell Norah that I hope s-she achieves her dreams of becoming a doctor. Are- are you still there? I can't see or feel you." She can slightly hear Bruce's deep voice while what seems to be the others are screaming. It's getting harder to hear and her body is starting to feel heavier.

This is the end and everyone knows it. Jason, Tim, and Dick don't want to accept it and are trying to patch her wound(s). Trying to get help there as soon as possible. Bruce and Damian are quiet trying to listen to her soft voice get quieter.

y/n starts slightly laughing, it's a nervous tick. "I always fantasize about having enough courage to end it all. Bu-but I- fuck. I'm such a fuck up." She starts crying and any words of comfort are either not heard or ignored. Starts coughing blood, but that doesn't deter Bruce in the slightest. Damian squeezes her hand though he doubts she can feel it.

"I don't even feel the pain anymore…At least I…At least I'm not dying alone." It isn't long before she stops breathing.

Alternatively, I thought of y/n saying, "I wished I was surrounded by loved ones." But she wouldn't stay that no matter how angry she is at the family. Might think it though.

In both cases of the Valeska twins, y/n would be caught in the crossfire. Jerome isn't going to kill y/n because she's his one and only. Jeremiah isn't going to kill y/n because why would he kill his wife? He's already planned out most of their whole lives and she already signed the mentally fabricated marriage certificate.

Jerome gets into a frenzy seeing y/n drop dead. No one is spared from his wrath. He can't bring himself to look at her body and will just leave. Inactive for a short time before getting back into the swing of things.

She is buried next to Jason. The family will catch Jerome hanging around her grave "talking to her" or something. Who knows what the hell he's doing. They'll have to chase him off or turn on the sprinklers if they want him to leave.

He didn't kill her himself, but he's still responsible for the events leading up to it. Meaning the family isn't going to pull back any punches.

Post-Spray Jeremiah has a similar reaction to y/n's death. Honestly, y/n could have died by just jumping in front of him to take a bullet. Doesn't matter how much y/n should hate him, she can't bring herself to. Ultimately it doesn't matter how she died, Jeremiah will blame Batman or the others for their inability to save y/n. Deflecting any responsibility.

This reinforces that he has to destroy Gotham and make it into his perfect image. y/n always talked about wanting to make the world a better place and that's exactly what he's doing.

If she dies in his arms he'll make a quick escape with her body. Having Echo hold back everyone to buy him time. Buries y/n in an undisclosed location and the tombstone will stay y/n Valeska instead of l/n or Wayne.

If he knew of the family's identity, he'd make subtle jabs at them. Mocking them for their mishandling of y/n. When or if he takes over Gotham he'll make sure that they all have front-row seats of the destruction before killing them off.

If he's feeling ruthless he might just have one of his followers get plastic surgery to look like y/n. Even change the pitch of their voice to get close enough to y/n's. Then send the follower after them and make various claims about how they lied about caring about her. How they let her die on purpose. That she'll never forgive them.

Traumatizing the whole family. Will make his follower's death gruesome just fuck with them and have them relive that day.

Bruce regrets not having kept y/n closer. He has a lot of 'should haves’ and 'if only’ in his head. He knows that's not going to do anything, but it'll take a while to accept her death. Always visits her grave every week.

Dick wishes that he'd been a better brother to y/n. He'll often wonder if she's looking down at them from above. Any mention of her will upset him for a while. Tim feels the same as Dick but often finds himself reminiscing about those happy moments. When they're smiling and laughing, once the memory is over he's left feeling melancholy.

Barbara is heartbroken by this. y/n always talked about how she wanted a normal domestic lifestyle. How much she loves Jeremiah and believes that he's the one. Now she's in the dirt and never experienced that simple quiet life she wanted. Carries a photo of y/n and her smiling on her all the time. Believes that y/n is in a better place where she can live out her dreams. One day Barb will see her again and give her a bone-crushing hug.

Jason and Damian think of throwing her body into Lazarus Pit if they have access to her body. Jason seriously thinks of it for only a minute before throwing it out. The pit messed him up and he can't handle bringing y/n back only for her mental turmoil to worsen. Damian doesn't think about that. He wants to apologize for all he's said and done. He wants his sister back, but the family is quick to turn down the idea. Explaining how it could only lead to more pain.

Damian would most likely listen to the family since they're technically right. Although there is a small chance that he wouldn't listen and do it anyway. Right out of the pit, y/n's thinking of her only love. Tries to run back to Jeremiah, but Damian is not having any of that.

When he returns to the manor with y/n tied up the whole family will have a verbal MMA fight. After that, they lock y/n in a nicely furnished room with hidden security cameras. y/n is like a zombie. Only has one thing, rather one person on her mind. She's a shell of who she once was.

At least they have a second chance, right?

y/n can not go ten minutes without talking or asking about Jeremiah. Will speak with herself if there isn't anyone else with her.

I think this turned out horrible, but hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to ask anything else as my inbox in always open. Also sorry for misspells or grammar mistakes, kinda rushed this.

#batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #jason todd x reader #richard grayson x reader #dick grayson x batsis #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x batsis #barbara gordon x reader #jerome valeska x batsis reader #jeremiah valeska x batsis reader #gotham x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska x reader

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g0giro · 9 months ago

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PLEASE READ THIS!!! NEOPENTANE5 TOLD ME TO KILL MYSELF AFTER I TALKED ABOUT THAT SHE SUPPORTED RAPE TO MY FRIEND

Someone sent this to me, and I have something to say about it. Don't buy what she said on her Twitter, I explained every single detail below.

I'm adding these pictures as well since these tweets were basically her referring to me and saying a lot of bad things about me. I've heard this meant "I wish you go kill yourself", "You don't deserve any friends" and so on, so I decided to translate it. She deleted it, and it's gone by now, but I could get a screenshot of her saying it.

TL;DR: I cut neopentane5 off and blocked her last year, I've been struggling because of severe depression since last year and she was the main reason who caused it, I vented about how I felt and what I couldn't understand her to my friend, and somehow it ended up with Neopentane5 seeing my DM with my friend and she self attacked me on her Twitter because of the DM, revealing my personal information and writing on her Twitter that I need to kill myself.

Below this is about what exactly happened and how Neoepentane5 tried to justify her actions. I explained it with all the proof that she was wrong and spreading misinformation, including some NSFW pictures she sent.

I don't know where to start, but let me talk about what happened last year between me and her.

The first reason I cut her off :

A few months ago, a guitarist of my favorite band passed away, so I was really shocked and sad, and I wanted to talk about it to someone and get comforted. There was a discord server where I, Neopentane5, and some other people were so I went there and talked about it. One of them asked me about it, but Neopentane5 just said nothing but sent a nsfw pic right below my text, completely ignoring me.

It was really rude and disrespectful, not just because the guitarist was my favorite but it was really weird and absurd of her to send a nsfw pic when she heard that someone died. Because of this, I was feeling depressed, so I tried not to pay attention to the server and her. I muted the notifications and tried to do something else like watching movies, playing games, or going out and so on because I thought it would become better if I could ignore this.

But she kept sending a bunch of nsfw pictures like these pictures without my consent and I was really overwhelmed and mad because of it.

This is the uncensored version of the screenshots.

The second reason why I cut her off:

Around last Halloween, I posted this to do inbox trick or treating. People who wanted to join it left likes there, and everyone who left likes on that post answered back, but Neopentane5 was the only one who didn't do anything even though she left her like. I thought she might be busy, and I asked her why she hadn't answered. She said she read it and wanted to draw something for it and would post it that night, but I didn't really mind if she wanted to draw something or not, because I was content with communicating with people by sending some candy pics and it was wholesome.

She really seemed to draw one for it, and I didn't want to let her down by saying I didn't really need her drawing or so, so I gave her enough time and she didn't post anything about it even two weeks had passed. I was really getting upset and depressed because it felt like I was worthless and not worth being remembered or cared about. I stopped texting her and everyone back then because of my depression.

Then she suddenly texted me first unusually and it was like this.

She just wanted to use me for translating that picture when she clearly knew that I didn't like the reboot stuff and didn't want to see it at all. She could've just googled it and used a translator, but she still decided to ask me to translate it for her. I had been feeling really down that time, and I didn't want to text back, but I also didn't want to make her feel bad so I just joked like I was all good and translated it for her. I felt I was worthless than the google translate and she just laughed it off and didn't really care about it when she should've made a proper apology. It didn't look like a person who was genuinely feeling sorry and it made my mental state worse. So I said just forget about it, and she didn't even answer back.

Other reasons I cut her off:

I had been already feeling depressed because I had always felt that I was the only one who cared about the 'friendship' she claimed to call it. Whenever I wanted to 'talk' with her, I always had to bring something interesting related to the fandom stuff, or she didn't even reply or reply very carelessly like "okay cool" a few days later when I texted her. She also didn't text me first usually, and I noticed it when I started talking with her last year. I thought I could talk about it to her and solve the problem together, so I seriously asked her to text me first sometimes and told her that I was feeling neglected because of her lack of messages. She said she wasn't just a talkative person and didn't really start a conversation first, but it was also the same for me because I wasn't a talkative one either. At least she promised that she would change and try to message me first, but she didn't. I talked about it to her more than three times, but she didn't even try hard to keep her promise and I lost trust that it would fix anything if I talked with her.

This was the last conversation when I blocked her.

I was trying not to be rude, and I explained why I decided to distance her. If she actually cared about the 'friendship', then she should've apologized to me and asked me if we could start over. But she immediately decided to cut me off (which means she didn't care about me) and started making excuses to justify her actions.

About Neoepentane5 saying something supportive about rape:

She tried to make her words promising about rape is okay by using the logic that she's Asian and Asian people are like that. Me, as a Korean, I don't support rape and I am against people who tolerate rape in any case. I couldn't understand how could a person be okay with rape at all and I was so disgusted by it, so I vented it to my friend because I'd already cut her off and there was no way for her to see this, a few days ago. But somehow, Neopentane5 was able to see my DM which I only intended to share with my friend, and wrote about it, making excuses and revealing my Discord name and Tumblr blog to the public, allowing her followers could easily attack me when I had no intention to expose her when I was talking with my friend.

We used to be friends, but we didn't quarrel and the quarrel she means is the last conversation I wrote about above, where I was explaining why I decided to block her. I didn't drive a distance between Neopentane5 and her friends, in fact, there was only one person I asked why didn't they distance Neopentane5 yet. The friend she was talking about was also my friend, and when I decided to block her, I told the friend too. I was genuinely worried about the friend because they said that they also had problems with Neopentane5 before and had an emotionally hard time because of her.

I talked about my interaction with her to my friends, not making it go on the public. Every person can feel bad and hate someone, and I needed to vent my feelings to my friends, Neopentane5 is talking about this as if I did something wrong after seeing what she wasn't able to see. About how she could manage to see my DM, my friend shared it with someone else without my consent and their friend shared it again to another, and so on. This is a wild guess, but when I talked to the friend after blocking Neopentane5 they said they already knew what happened, and in the way Neopentane5 talked in the last conversation I had with her, it's not hard to assume that she probably said many bad things about me. I don't blame her for talking back behind my back, because it's natural to vent someone's feelings to someone, but it's very disappointing and frustrating to see her attack me.

When I said I could make her an account, she denied it because she didn't want to look weak in front of me and said it was cheap to buy a new phone number, saying it didn't even cost a single dollar.

It was one game she bought, and I told her how much I appreciated it enough that she told me to stop praising her. However, she hadn't played it once when I asked her to play it together later. I don't know what she's talking about the 'learning new ways to use AI for me' because if she's talking about CAI, I was the one who was making characters mostly and I've never asked her to make one for me.

I asked her to do RP with her because it looked like she was getting tired of CAI's waiting line and the limited responses. I said it was totally okay if she didn't want to do so, but she accepted it and then I made a server to invite her. She talked like she didn't enjoy it at all, but as embarrassing as it might sound, I enjoyed it and appreciated her for doing it together, and when I asked her if she was enjoying this too, she said yes and saved funny moments we had.

I say it again that it wasn't an argument or a quarrel. I explained why I wanted to distance her instead of just blocking her without any words, giving her the last chance to apologize and to make things better again. I explained it in the last conversation I had with her, you can read about how she keeps trying to justify her careless actions toward me by saying she's just forgetful and I don't understand her at all when I was struggling because of my depression and I needed someone to show me that they cared about me, but she couldn't understand me at all. I expected her to show it to me because she said I was special and different unlike the other friends she had, but maybe I was too naive.

I've never talked about anything related to her to the public or in my account where anyone can see it until now. Look at who decided to point me out and blame me, revealing my blog and discord account.

It's also not healthy to write me to go kill yourself.

This is all, and it was Neopentane5 who started blaming me on the Internet first. These are her Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram pages. I hope anyone who reads this will distance yourself from her and her devotees, and it would be appreciated if you could reblog this post and share it on other websites like Twitter too.

Sorry for tagging the fandom tags, but I don't want other people to suffer the same thing I did. Thank you for reading a long post. + I edited the post since it was flagged.

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pagannatural · 8 months ago

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2.09 Croatoan

-my beloved

-The brothers go to Oregon because Sam has a vision of Dean shooting someone who pleads for his life.

-Sam thinks Dean is violent and out of control because of his grief but he’s actually violent and out of control because he’s losing his mind over Sam.

-Sam looks very Scared Little Brother when they realize the town has no phone signal. He stands really close to Dean. Sam is right. I forgot how scary this episode is.

-Sam hesitates to kill the son who had the mom tied up, and Dean berates him. Dean calls the son a “monster” and Sam says “it was a kid.” Dean likes a clean line between monster and human.

-Sam is always the one who comforts the victims and tells people everything will be okay, another way in which his role in the relationship is traditionally feminine. He’s the one women find non-threatening. (And he’s too distracted by Dean to be attracted to them).

-When the mom, Beverly, says “one minute they were my husband and my son and the next they had the devil in them” the camera cuts to Sam and Dean. This line could be Dean describing a blood-drinking Sam: one minute he was my husband and my son and the next he had the devil in him.

-One of the armed men blocking the road out of town asks Dean to get out of the car to “talk a little,” and Dean says “you are a handsome devil but I don’t swing that way, sorry.” It’s easy to forget that in the early 2000s, this kind of throwaway joke on network tv didn’t usually hint at a character’s hidden sexuality, it was just a vaguely biphobic little joke. But I do think there’s a reason it’s here.

The Croatoan virus is a demonic virus spread from blood infection that’s not visible just by looking at someone. So we have a little AIDS parallel. It’s also a similar concept to Sam’s demon blood. His blood represents choice and sin and the human mixed with the monstrous. Blood is also associated with family.

Incest and queerness are taboos that have often been conflated in fiction (and in history), and both have been strongly associated with monstrosity—think predatory sexuality, birth defects, infertility, rejection of the natural order. A desire that’s dangerous and wrong and destructive, that must stay hidden and can only survive in the shadows. The homoerotic incestuous monster hunters are the perfect storm of gothic queer horror.

Whether or not either brother is queer doesn’t affect the plot, and isn’t the point. I can see Dean grappling with being in love with Sam without questioning his sexuality at all. Sam is a category unto himself to Dean, and Sam doesn’t appear bothered about his sexuality aside from his feelings about Dean. But the confluence of these taboos—incest and queerness—with blood is central to the plot of the show and the question of what evil is. Really their love for each other and their shared blood is what saves them, keeps them human.

-Another of my absolute favorite underrated wincest moments is when Beverly is begging for her life from the utility room and Dean asks Sam “are you sure she’s one of them?” Sam barely nods and it’s enough for Dean to shoot her three times point blank. He doesn’t need any more information, just for Sam to nod slightly.

-Sam suggests that they need to leave to warn others of the virus and Dean tells him he has a good point. They respect each other’s input and work together well.

-Duane shows up and the situation becomes very tense. Sam is standing with his whole body facing Dean. In moments of extreme stress, Sam often seeks Dean’s protection rather than focusing on the threat.

-Dean has a gun on Duane with some urgency but Sam says “I gotta talk to you—now” and Dean leaves the room with him immediately.

Sam argues that they should wait and not kill Duane in case he isn’t infected. Dean says “what’s that buy us?”

“A clear conscience, for one.”

“Well it’s too late for that.” Is Dean talking about his guilt over John’s death? Or is this more about his general self hatred around never being enough to be everything for everyone, to give Sam everything that he needs and be the perfect son and soldier and brother and father and mother?

Sam tells him “you don’t act like yourself anymore, Dean. You’re acting like one of those things out there.” Dean does feel lost. He needs Sam to save him so that he can save Sam.

-Sam is so devoted to Dean this season. He spent season 1 gradually giving into his complete trust and commitment to Dean and now he’s been losing him or at risk of losing him in different ways all season. He fights tooth and nail for Dean every step of the way to get him to listen, to talk, to come back to him.

-Dean pushes Sam out of the way and locks him out, aiming to kill Duane. He says “it’s not him, not any more” and “I’ve got no choice.” But then Dean decides not to shoot him.

-When the doctor asks if it’s alright to untie Duane, Dean and Sam seem to have a wordless conversation in which Dean defers to Sam’s judgement, and Sam tells the doctor it’s okay to untie him.

-Sam is Dean’s morality. Dean is submitting to Sam, needing him to help him make the right choice. By doing this he’s also believing in Sam’s ability to stay good.

-Sam says about Dean not killing Duane “you know I’m gonna ask you why.”

Dean replies “yeah I know,” not looking up, focusing on keeping his hands busy making Molotov cocktails.

“So why? Why didn’t you do it?”

Dean looks at Sam with his chin tucked, like it’s hard to meet his eyes. He doesn’t answer. He clears his throat and says “we need more alcohol,” basically asking Sam to leave for a moment so that he can pull it together. He gazes after Sam with this raw, shamed look.

It’s the first of two parallels in this episode to their conversation in 1.19 where Sam says his reticence to date is mostly not about Jessica, and Dean asks “then what is it about?” and Sam just looks at him, implying heavily that it’s about Dean.

The question Dean was asking Sam there was essentially, Why can’t you love anyone else?

The first question Sam asks Dean is why he didn’t kill someone, but it’s also why Dean wants to do the right thing and not lose himself, and the answer is because of Sam.

-After Sam is attacked, he reaches for Dean’s hand to help him up off the floor and then just leaves his hand outstretched after Sarge holds Dean back and tells him Sam is infected. It’s like his muscle memory of reach-out-hand, Dean-pulls-me-up hasn’t caught on.

-The whole time Dean argues with the others about Sam, Sam only looks at the floor or at Dean. He’s not watching the conversation, he’s watching Dean because he’s scared and he looks to Dean when he’s scared.

-Dean says “no one’s shooting my brother”

He’s so protective. He was about to kill someone who might be infected just in case, but when it’s Sam he would simply rather die in a murder suicide and that’s that on that.

-Sam asks for the gun so that he can shoot himself, saying “I’m not gonna become one of those things.” This episode is pure foreshadowing for the end of s5. Sam refuses to become a monster, Dean chooses to stand by him and die rather than kill him. Because of their faith in each other, because they waited, things work out.

-Dean hands over the keys to the impala. He’s not fucking around. He tells the doctor “oh actually we’re not really marshals.” He’s in a truth telling mood, fuck it.

-Sam asks Dean to leave him and keep living, looking at him with incredulity and gratitude and love and fear.

Dean leaving him alone to die or become a monster would fulfill Sam’s deepest fear—left behind, not belonging, because something is wrong with him. But he still asks Dean to go, he throws a fit, he tells him “this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” It reminds me of that scene from Titanic, Jack telling Rose “you’re so stupid” for staying with him instead of saving herself.

He says “it’s over for me, it doesn’t have to be for you.”

“No?”

“No. You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?”

This scene is so dramatic and romantic. Close shots of their faces, Sam looking up at Dean with his eyes full of tears, begging him. Dean tells Sam he doesn’t want to go on without him.

Sam asks, what?

For a moment it almost looks like he’s taking this as the confession that it is, before Dean puts some distance between them and leans against the wall. This is the second scene is this episode to parallel their conversation in 1.19, this time even more closely.

Sam thinks Dean doesn’t want to go on because their dad died, but Dean says “you’re wrong. It’s not about dad. I mean part of it is, sure, but-“

Sam interrupts to ask “then what is it about?” and Dean gives him this look,

this look of love and tenderness, like he’s willing Sam to understand.

This time Sam’s question is Why don’t you want to live? And the answer is that Dean doesn’t want to live without Sam.

I love how this scene makes clear that Sam’s romantic partners compare directly to Dean. It confirms what Sam was thinking about in 1.19, because for these scenes to rhyme they must have been thinking about each other.

-The brothers share a romantic beer at the lake. Sam asks Dean what he was talking about last night in a way that honest-to-god sounds like he’s referring to pillow talk. Dean doesn’t want to tell so Sam keeps pushing, but their tones are teasing and light. They really sound like they’re flirting. Dean suggests that they go to the Grand Canyon.

Sam keeps questioning him, gentle but insistent, as Dean talks about taking a break.

-Where is our Grand Canyon episode?

-Sam looks so scared when Dean says John told him something about Sam before he died. I wonder what’s running through his head. There’s this feeling that people with Sam’s negative core belief often get, which is a fear that something is deeply wrong or rotten in them and that eventually other people will find out. He’s probably thinking that’s finally happened.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #wincest #spn 2x09

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mrooops · 7 months ago

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ok guys, no jokes, but what the fuck?

i want to touch a really really serious topic in pink floyd fandom rn and i want you all to listen to me at least once. i would really appreciate it if you spread this information. thank you

if you're the type of person who writes "well, waters is still better than gilmour", then just please unfollow me forever the fuck out

but it's ok i'll explain you why

well, a little backstory

while many believe that roger's political views are now quite correct, i want to remind you that he supports an aggressive invasion of the country where i live (Ukraine). if you are still interested, then yes, the war in Ukraine is still going on even if in the west now no one wants to pay attention to it anymore. for your understanding, on average we have 100 air raids in the city per month, at least once a week i definitely hear explosions and, yeah, i don’t live in a hot spot. and this guy just goes out and does an interview where he openly says that he supports the aggressor country. yeah, that's right, he was also allowed to speak at the UN council, where he said that the conflict was provoked. very smart. the same guy who said a couple of days before the war that those who believe that it will start are “out of their minds”

ok ok, but how does this relate to gilmour?

very simple. his daughter-in-law is Ukrainian. and her mother lived in a city that was one of the first to be attacked by the russian army. if you have never seen footage from Kharkiv in the first days of the war, then believe me, it was a terrible sight, people tried to help each other as best they could

and it is still going on

i don’t think it's cool to talk shit about one person who supports israel but then turn a blind eye to how another openly says that Taiwan should belong to china and Ukraine to russia and say "well, he is based", "he's better than gilmour"

if you have any other information about gilmour, you can share it with me.

i know you all really like young waters and i see a lot of positive things in him too, but i really can't stand the fact that now people only really look at how he feels about Palestine, even if i see a lot of articles and posts from adults, who say his support for Palestine is also twofold. don't wanna say anything bad about that because i haven’t studied this topic, but i think you can google them yourself, they always just come up

don't get me wrong, i'm not stopping you from sending pictures of him or drawing him, i'm just asking you not to write that he's better than someone else at something when he's not

oh yeah and one last thing...

if you are a supporter of communism, then get the fuck out too, because communism led to the fact that in the 60s in my country they killed almost all the poets who did not write something in support of the state. in history they were persecuted and killed because they wrote in their native language and mentioned Ukrainian culture. communism led to three great famines in our country, when people had so little to eat that they resorted to cannibalism. it's very scary, but it's true. this is what the government has led to when it wants to bring communism to life

communism is not a cool thing. it's cool in words, not on practice, read history

thank you for your attention

#roger waters #pink floyd #david gilmour #ukraine #palestine

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cosmerelists · 1 year ago

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Bridge Four: What Punctuation Mark They’d Be

Previously we considered what parts of speech the Kholin household would like best...for some reason. Next up: Bridge Four as Punctuation Marks!

1. Kaladin: Exclamation Point

We all know that Kaladin is a dramatic boy. When he arrives, he is an exclamation point embodied, usually glowing with Stormlight and there to save the day.

2. Sigzil: Colon

A colon indicates that further information will follow: perhaps a list, or a several-sentence description, or a series of questions. And as a Worldsinger, Sigzil is there to spread information and knowledge. Plus, when he found out about Kaladin’s powers, his first thought was to design experiments to get some good old data points. I can just imagine him writing, “Kaladin’s abilities are as follows:”

3. Rlain: Semicolon

Semicolons connect two independent clauses, much as Rlain, the Bridger of Minds, is able to connect disparate peoples and ideas. The semicolon is solid and steadfast, but does not end the thought like a period does. It brings different thoughts together.

4. Rock: Question Mark

I just remember the scene where we find out that Bridge Four goes to see Rock for advice, and he asks them questions to help them realize what they need/want to do. Rock is the type of person who can help people feel welcome, draw them in, help them open up. So I think a question mark suits him well!

5. Moash: Slash

The slash can indicate separation and difference, but it can also show options and alternatives: and/or, his/her, color/colour. And yes, Moash has some black and white thinking (or should I say “black/white”)--light-eyes vs. dark-eyes, guilty vs. innocent, and so on. But he also represents alternatives: What if justice does mean killing a king who is liable in your grandparents’ death? What if the Singers should be the rulers? What if Kaladin is wrong? So for many reasons, I think the slash suits him.

He also, like, keeps slashing people to death, but maybe that’s a cheap joke.

6. Renarin: En-Dash

The en-dash is a poorly understood and little utilized punctuation mark: it is used specifically in ranges of numbers (like 14–30). And Renarin too had a specific and little-understood power--seeing the future--whose usefulness was not accepted at first. And when I use the en-dash, I have to manually download it because I don’t actually know the keystroke for it, and people tend to need some time to get used to Renarin too, as when he had to work hard to join Bridge Four.

Look, I swear this makes perfect sense in my head!

7. Teft: Hyphen

The hyphen is a support punctuation mark; it doesn’t get used alone, but rather connects together a compound noun or adjective. And Teft, as the sergeant and also as Kaladin’s friend, has always been there in support. He backs Kaladin up, even going so far as to stay behind when Kaladin was somewhat forcibly retired from the army.

The hyphen can also indicate speech or thoughts being abruptly cut off, but perhaps we won’t talk about that.

8. Skar: Apostrophe

An apostrophe shows ownership and belonging: my mother’s necklace, the captain’s spear. And Skar really is all about his love for being Bridge Four. He was the first to rip off the Cobalt Guard Patch in favor of a Bridge Four patch. He was completely crushed when he couldn’t draw in Stormlight at first, because he was afraid of not being useful to Bridge Four. He still helped others learn to drawn in the Stormlight, though. This love for the group and sense of belonging means the apostrophe suits him well, I think.

9. Dabbid: Ellipses

Dabbid didn’t speak for a while, at first because of battle shock, and later because he didn’t want the others to know that he thought differently from most people. Now he does speak some, but carefully. And the ellipses can indicate not only silence, but also a pause before continuing.

10. Drehy: Period

Drehy is extremely dependable--he’s one of the first to back up Kaladin, one of the first to pick up fighting, one of the first to learn first aid. He goes with Skar on the mission to Kholinar, and helps rescue Elhokar’s son after we all (or at least me) thought that Sanderson had dared to kill off the one gay character.

And yes, I wanted to pick the gayest punctuation mark for Drehy, but that’s gotta be either the question mark or the ellipses (right?), and I had already used those.

11. Hobber: Comma

The comma lets you know that this isn’t the end; there is more (of the sentence) coming. And Hobber is a figure of hope: he’s so delighted that Kaladin rescues him, that he’s already smiling even though at that point it was likely that he would die. He loses his legs to a shardblade, but later is able to draw in Stormlight to heal himself. So I think “hope” is the emotion I’d associate with Hobber, and I’ve decided that the comma--the “there’s more; don’t worry”--is the punctuation mark for him.

12. Leyten: Brackets

Literally all I know about Leyten is that he is the armorer. And brackets are like strong, uh, breastplates that, uh, protect the words within?

I’m so sorry, Leyten. I got nothing.

13. Lyn: Em-Dash

The em-dash is very versatile; it can be used in place of a comma or a semicolon or parentheses. And Lyn is a versatile woman: scout, messenger, soldier, Windrunner. Plus, everyone likes her, in book, and I’m pretty sure the em-dash is everyone’s favorite punctuation mark.

14. Lopen: Interrobang

The interrobang is the combination of the question mark and the exclamation mark: ?!. You might say, “That’s not a proper punctuation mark!” but then, that’s the point! It’s Lopen. He likes to be improper, to joke around and try to shock people.

Plus, I think he’d find the word “interrobang” to be funny.

#cosmerelists #cosmere #stormlight archive #Bridge Four #Kaladin #classic rock #Moash #Teft #Skar #Sigzil #Dabbid #Drehy #Hobber #Letyen #Lopen #Renarin #Rlain #Lyn

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mad-hunts · 2 months ago

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✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse? + 💢 Something about the muse that annoys you?

- divingdownthehole

AHH, hellooo, emi! thank you very much for the ask ((: whenever it comes to my favorite thing about writing barton, i actually had two of the same question, so i will link my answer to that first question here for your convenience: my favorite thing about writing the muse!!

now, as for something about the muse that annoys me, do i have to pick just one thing because i've got several grievances with him? / hj JSJSJ LOL i'm halfway joking about that, as there are actually a few things that irk me about barton's character, but i'd say the main one that annoys me is that he is SO freaking stubborn. like this man is the type of person to struggle with doing something and refuse help from someone because he 'can do it' even when its quite obvious that he can't do it 💀 barton also gives some credence to the idea that doctors are bad patients in this aspect as well.

for example, here's just a tidbit of information that i did some research on in relation to pancreatitis since barton has had it pretty bad once: there is this bruising that doctors call 'cullen's sign' that has a chance of spreading around the navel when your pancreas is inflammed. though, to be fair, most resources i checked out said that it appears rather rarely. however, barton DEFINITELY had this symptom and you know what he did? he essentially ignored it, because he was hoping it would just go away. like barton knew that something was probably wrong BUT he didn't want to acknowledge that at first and so this mayyy or may not be part of the reason why he got so sick from it.

to expand upon this, i know i have talked about how barton isn't a good father a lot already, BUT he has killed one of matilda's BF's before because he was trying to 'protect her' and like. i get that the guy might've not had matilda's best interests at heart, though was KILLING him really necessary and also refusing to admit that this was a wrong thing for him to do??? like OMG. i'm telling y'all, if this guy was real and he didn't kill me, i would be punching him in the damn kisser right now just by talking about this 🙂‍↕️ LMAO no, but i am so serious about that. like he needs to stop and i know i have the power to make him stop, of course, but also jsjsj

barton's stubbornness is also an important part of his character, as without it, i feel like he wouldn't be the same person. but yeah! i hope you liked my response to this, my friend, and that you're having a good saturday <33

#divingdownthehole #asks - answered.#munday

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churchofthesluttyknee · 6 months ago

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A Series of Firsts: Chapter 6 - Glimpses of You. Pt 2

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: pending

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar face the challenge of being separated due to work commitments after Pedro's project extends much longer than expected, straining their relationship as this marks the first significant period they've spent apart since they began dating.

Notes: Chapter begins June 22, 2019, ends around November 2, 2019.

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Act V: Surprise

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In the four weeks since Pedro had expressed his difficulties in coping with their extended separation, Oscar had been sure to find extra time throughout the week to give Pedro any extra emotional support he needed, while also allowing him to release his stress in a healthier way. While he didn’t completely lift the restrictions they’d established, Oscar did loosen them considerably. These adjustments seemed to have a positive impact on Pedro’s overall mood and mental health. He was having a hard time adjusting too, but knowing he could be a rock for Pedro made it a little more bearable. The rewrites, and resultant reshoots, unfortunately, had not stopped. In fact, as they were about to learn, they had gotten far worse.

On the morning of September 19, Oscar lies in bed, awake, but not ready to start the day just yet. Morning sun streams in from glass doors leading onto a small garden patio. When a text notification sounds just after 9:30, Oscar is delighted to see it’s from Pedro, informing Oscar that he has a few hours before filming resumes and to call when he wakes up. His slippers shuffle quietly on hardwood as Oscar makes his way to the kitchen, where he pops a coffee pod into a single cup brewer and a bagel into the toaster, before moving back down the hall to the bathroom. When he returns, he takes his coffee and bagel to the patio. Propping his feet on the wrought iron table, Oscar takes a bite of breakfast as he listens to the weird ring of his international call. Pedro picks up halfway through the second ring.

“Hey, sexy!” Pedro says jovially as soon as he sees Oscar’s face.

“Hey to you too, gorgeous. How are you?”

“Good, now that I’m talking to you. I didn’t wake you up with my text, did I?”

“No, mi amor, I was already awake. Just enjoying the morning before I have to head uptown. How are things on set today?”

“Surprisingly not too bad. I’ve not gotten any new pages all day. There’s a real chance we could finish this thing on time and I could be back in New York by the 29th.”

Oscar can picture Pedro coming through the gates with his bags. Can see his eyes alight when Pedro spots him from across the terminal. A huge grin spreads across his face at the thought of finally being able to see his Pedrito again. To touch him, to smell him, to taste him again, after being apart for so long.

“I can’t wait until you’re home again, mi Pedrito! I fucking miss having you close to me. So I can touch you, and kiss you, whenever I want to.”

“Me too, mi luna! This distance is killing me. I just want to—, uh, hold on a second. Someone just walked in.” Placing his hand over the microphone, Pedro speaks to the newcomer. Oscar can’t hear the conversation very well, but he does hear Pedro’s response with resounding clarity. “God damn it!! Are you fucking kidding me, Trevor? Please tell me this is a fucking joke!” Oscar can hear Trevor mumbling in response while quickly retreating, then a door slamming as he leaves the room.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me,” Oscar says gently when Pedro returns to the phone. Breathing heavily, Pedro lets out a heavy sigh before answering.

“These god damned rewrites and reshoots have completely fucked the schedule, and now we’re not gonna wrap until fucking October 15th!! I swear to god, Oscar, if that asshole Kyle comes in here—“

Oscar cuts him off before he can say something he may regret. “Pedro, baby, calm down. It’ll be ok, we’ll make—“

“No, Oscar, it fucking won’t be ok!! Oh my god, I’m freaking out over here. Why can’t I just wake up from this nightmare?” Pedro says, his breathing becoming impossibly fast. Oscar can hear it in Pedro’s voice that he is spiraling.

“Pedro, Pedro, breathe baby, breathe. The 6th is just a day. Being together, or not, won’t change its significance. We can celebrate the entire rest of October if you want. We both knew not being able to be together to share something was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Ugh, you’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you, mi corazon. This whole thing has been a gigantic clusterfuck, but I had no right to respond the way I did. I overreacted and now I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. This whole project has been a shit show of epic proportions, and my nerves are absolutely shot. It’s just been one thing after another. But I shouldn’t have gone off on Trevor like that, kid’s just the messenger. I have to go apologize, babe. Call you back in a few minutes?”

“Of course. Take care of what you need to. I’ll be here for a few more hours,” Oscar assures him.

Forty-five minutes pass before Oscar’s phone rings. When Oscar accepts the FaceTime request he’s met with a screen full of brilliant blue sky, patches of fluffy white clouds and a tuft of unmistakable brown hair. Oscar grins and tries to stifle a giggle. Before he speaks he grabs a quick screenshot because this image is too perfect not to save.

“Hey, babe. You there?”

“Oh, hey,” Pedro replies, as if shocked Oscar is on the line. Picking up the phone, Pedro looks at Oscar’s face and smiles his adorable little half smile. “Sorry, guess I spaced out for a second.”

“Did you get things straightened out with Trevor?”

“Yeah. Poor kid’s terrified of me now though. He flinched when I approached him, Oscar. Fernando is the only other person who’s ever flinched when they saw me… for good reason, mind, but it’s weird having this kid be afraid of me. Frankly, I hope Fernando flinches at me for the rest of his life, especially if I’m holding a fork… but I don’t want this kid to be afraid of me.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around. I know you’re a cuddly tiger, but you can be quite intimidating,” Oscar replies flirtatiously.

“Soy tu tierno tigre, y tu eres mi feroz gatito (I'm your tender tiger, and you're my fierce kitten),” Pedro replies playfully. “After I cooled down and spoke to Trevor I went to see Kyle. Without going into details that are none of his fucking business I told Kyle I won’t be on set on the 6th. Since Trevor had already talked to him and told him I was seething mad, Kyle didn’t even put up any resistance. I have to be on set on the 5th and 7th though. So, while I can’t whisk away to come see you, I can at least have the day to celebrate with you,” Pedro says with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll clear my calendar and we can spend all day talking on the phone. Maybe we can even FaceTime a meal together,” Oscar says happily.

He can already feel the cogs churning in his mind though, a quiet plan quickly formulating. As soon as he’s off the phone he contacts his agent to make travel arrangements. Before the day is over he has a one way, non-stop ticket out of JFK. He grins like an idiot when he sees his 13-digit ticket number is made up of their birthdays and anniversary, albeit in absolutely no clear order. Only someone looking for the connection would see it.

Although they talk and text as often as their schedules allow, Oscar gives no hints of his plans to Pedro. After researching the area for a few days, Oscar begins to create a loose schedule that includes dinner reservations for the 6th, and a private boat rental for the weekend. He’s already reached out to Franklin, who was thrilled to be part of making this trip possible, and gladly provided Oscar with Pedro’s hotel information and added Oscar as a guest to avoid any issues with hotel management and security. The plan was for Oscar to slip into Pedro’s room while he was on set and surprise him when he returned. Oscar already had it worked out in his mind how it would go and was excited to finally see his Pedrito again.

His plane leaves JFK the evening of October 4, arriving just before 9 AM in Malta the following morning. Pedro isn’t scheduled to be on set until 10 AM, so Oscar stops at an airport coffee shop for a quick breakfast before heading to the hotel. Forty minutes later Oscar has checked into the hotel and is putting his things away. Knowing Pedro won’t call for a few more hours, he sets an alarm for 1:30 and crawls onto the king bed. Burying his face deep in Pedro’s pillow Oscar inhales his lover's scent and is asleep almost instantly.

When his alarm goes off three hours later it takes him several moments to remember where he is. Looking at his watch, he calculates that he has about 7-8 hours to get everything set up. He calls down to the front desk and is transferred to Luca, the concierge. Oscar proceeds to order large bouquets of daisies, in white, lilac and pink, as well as lilac roses, a bottle of local vintage wine and a tiny stuffed tiger. From guest services he orders two plush robes, two sets of slippers and an extra set of towels. With the exception of the flowers and wine, everything is delivered within an hour. Luca tells Oscar it took quite a few calls to find the tiny tiger, and that he got two because he wasn’t sure the one was small enough. When they’re delivered Oscar assures him they’re both perfect.

At 3 PM, on the dot, Oscar’s phone rings. Brimming with excitement and anticipation, it’s all Oscar can do to not ruin his surprise. Since their schedules have been relatively consistent these past few weeks Oscar has a fairly solid outline for Pedro’s day. They’ll talk until about 5 while Pedro eats lunch, then he’ll stay on set until 7 or 8. After that he’ll return to the hotel to wind down a little, then go out for dinner. When Pedro asks Oscar what he’s been up to, Oscar doesn’t lie to Pedro, but he also doesn’t share more information than absolutely necessary. When their call ends just before 5, Oscar checks his to-do list. Now that he knows Pedro will wrap at 7:30 he orders the flowers be brought up at 6 and the wine at 7:45. For the next three and a half hours Oscar works to prepare the room. The bed, and surrounding floor, are adorned with a delicate tapestry of fragrant flower petals imbuing the room with their sweet essence. After the wine arrives, and Oscar eyes the room to make sure he’s not overlooked anything, he disappears into the bathroom. When he comes out, he’s wearing one of the plush white robes, a pair of slippers and a huge grin, but nothing else.

With bated breath Oscar waits, glancing at his phone every few minutes to gauge how much longer he has before Pedro arrives. At twelve past eight a key card beeps and the door handle engages. The way the room is set up Pedro won’t be able to see him until he’s passed through a kitchen area and short hallway. Oscar can hear Pedro putting his bag in the coat closet and suddenly his stomach is filled with millions of chaotic butterflies. It’s all he can do to keep from crying out Pedro’s name. When Pedro finally rounds the corner he’s looking at his phone. Oscar frowns slightly. This isn’t going quite as he’d expected.

Eyes still down, Pedro inhales deeply, pinpointing the fragrance of a mixture of flowers, but also an undercurrent of something warm, familiar and comforting, that he can’t quite place. One thing he does know is that none of these smells were here when he left this morning. The underlying smell, the one that somehow reminds him of home, is driving crazy because he knows what it is, but his brain just won’t make the connection. Shifting his gaze straight ahead the first thing he notices is a small table topped with a bottle of wine, two wine glasses and two distorted shapes he can’t quite make out. In his peripheral vision he sees the floor is littered with multiple shades and types of flower petals. Eyes traveling left across the room he sees more petals on the bed. As he continues to scan the room his eyes finally fall upon Oscar, who is grinning so hard his face hurts. His head tilting slightly right, Pedro blinks slowly and continues to stare, but doesn’t seem to comprehend what’s now in front of him.

“Pedro?” Oscar asks, a hint of concern and confusion in his tone. “Babe?” Oscar’s eyebrows knit together, his lips pursed, as he stands and walks over to Pedro, who is still staring blankly at him.

As Oscar closes the gap between them, Pedro’s nose, eyes and brain slowly start to communicate with one another. He now recognizes the comforting scent as Oscar’s cologne. Now that they’re standing so close to one another his synapses are finally firing. Pedro blinks rapidly as he comes out of his fugue state and finally sees Oscar for the first time.

“Oscar?” Pedro asks in bewilderment, for surely this three month nightmare has taken a twisted turn, driving him to painfully real hallucinations.

“Hey,” Oscar says softly, the look of concern melting away to reveal a relieved smile. His fingers tenderly brush over Pedro’s cheek as he stares into Pedro’s rich chocolate eyes.

Before either of them can comprehend what’s happening, Pedro’s lips crash into Oscar’s with enough force to make him take a step backwards. Pedro’s hands cup Oscar’s face as he kisses him with a feral hunger neither have ever felt before. To be wanted was one thing, but to be craved like this was exhilarating. As soon as their bodies collided Oscar felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through him like wildfire. Within mere moments he is achingly hard. His fingers weave deep into Pedro’s hair as a moan passes between their lips. Pedro’s hands release their hold on Oscar’s face, only to become lost in the forest of his hair. Grunting loudly against his lips, Pedro’s grip on Oscar’s hair tightens as he walks them to the edge of the bed. When Oscar’s knees bump into the mattress he loses his balance and falls onto the blanket of petals. He scrambles backwards as Pedro’s arms frame him and he climbs onto the bed. Each time their lips break apart Pedro surges forward seeking refuge in them, like a parched man drawn to water.

Oscar continues to clamber backwards until he hits the bank of pillows at the head of the bed. Pedro advances forward again, arms still framing Oscar’s torso, legs now straddling his thighs. Leaning back, he drinks in the sight of his paramour with eyes darkened by an insatiable hunger. Their frantic movements have caused Oscar’s robe to open, revealing his naked chest and stomach, his skin the color of toasted honey. Leering at Oscar, eyes moving slowly downward, Pedro sees the robe has opened more than he realized when his gaze falls upon the dark patch of pubic hair at the nexus of Oscar’s shaft. A low, guttural growl escapes Pedro as he licks his lips hungrily. A wicked half grin plays at Oscar’s kiss-swollen lips as he realizes just how beastial this man is behaving and he wonders briefly if he’s about to be kissed, ravaged or devoured. He finds he’s happy with any of these fates.

His scrutinizing stare intensifies as his eyes trace back up Oscar's torso, taking in every detail. When Oscar opens his mouth to speak, Pedro shakes his head almost imperceptibly, before kissing him hard. When the kiss breaks, he takes Oscar’s lower lip between his teeth, biting as gently as his ravenous nature allows. Pedro grazes his teeth over Oscar’s chin, grips his face, and lasciviously drags his tongue along Oscar’s jaw. His tongue craves to savor every inch of Oscar's body, while his hands yearn to caress it with perverse pleasure. Starved to the brink of madness, he’s unable to focus on any one area for longer than a few seconds before moving from one delicious spot to the next. Sliding the robe over Oscar’s shoulders, Pedro nips and kisses his neck, shoulders and clavicles, his mouth paying tribute to the exquisite beauty before him. Moving backwards until he’s on all fours, Pedro swirls the tip of his tongue around each of Oscar’s nipples before licking and kissing a trail to his navel.

Now resting just above Oscar’s knees, Pedro runs his fingers down Oscar’s chest until they reach the belt of his robe, the last vestige of Oscar’s feigned modesty. With great care, Pedro begins to undo the knot that has become taut during their rowdiness. Oscar places his hands over Pedro’s as his lover’s fingers work deftly to undo the belt. Once it’s undone, they languidly draw his robe back, revealing Pedro’s prize. Releasing Pedro’s hand, Oscar grips his cock and begins to work it slowly. When he looks into Pedro’s eyes he realizes Pedro is mesmerized by the sight before him, head bobbing gently in time with Oscar’s movements. Oscar moans loudly for his consort as he brushes the head of his cock with his finger. Pedro gulps loudly, slavering like a carnivore about to devour his prey. Pedro’s grin widens as he loosens himself from Oscar’s grip and begins to slide backwards along Oscar’s thighs, fingers dragging his velvet skin, until he’s straddling Oscar’s knees. Oscar immediately understands the intent behind his movement, draping his legs over Pedro’s shoulders once Pedro is nestled between his thighs. Pedro lays soft kisses along the delicate surfaces as Oscar continues to lazily work his cock, his lover’s stare never leaving his pumping fist.

Propping himself up on his left elbow, Pedro wraps his right arm around Oscar’s leg before kissing a path to his knee, and back to his inner thigh. When he’s back to start he runs his finger over Oscar’s hand, silently urging Oscar to remove it so he can take over. Oscar shivers when he feels Pedro’s tongue on the base of his erection, moaning loudly as it glides up his length. Pedro swirls his tongue over the glistening slit before taking the tip into his mouth as he takes over stroking Oscar’s cock. Before long Oscar is panting and writhing, bucking his hips until his cock hits the back of Pedro’s throat, causing Pedro to gag. Undeterred, Pedro continues to take Oscar as deep as he can while his wrist continues its rhythmic motion. When he feels Oscar’s cock twitch against his tongue, he reluctantly pulls back and bites Oscar’s right inner thigh hard enough to leave a mark and elicit a gasp of surprise. Sitting upright, Pedro quickly removes his shirt, tossing it to the floor. Undoing his button and zipper, he pulls his pants and boxers down far enough to free his own hard cock.

Now it’s Oscar’s turn to lick his lips with ravenous hunger. He slides back as far as the mountain of pillows behind him will allow so he can sit up straight. Oscar runs his fingertip in delicate circles around Pedro’s head before running his thumb along the sensitive underside of his length. As he begins to stroke Pedro’s cock he leans in and kisses him tenderly. A far departure from the lustful cravings he’s adrift in, Oscar wants to savor their reunion just a little before he lets Pedro devour him completely. Oscar works his hand as slowly as he can, worried that if he goes any faster Pedro may not be able to fight his body’s need for release. He doesn’t want three months of pent-up sexual frustration to end in disappointment. Pedro’s head lolls as his eyes roll back, a low, deep moan filling the quiet room. Oscar takes this opportunity to kiss and lick his exposed neck, relishing the taste he’s been longing for since July. Just when Oscar thinks Pedro’s appetite may have quelled, Pedro grips his hips tightly and pulls him flush before pressing his hand lightly against Oscar’s chest. His eyes half-lidded yet ablaze with unbridled lust, Pedro spits into his palm, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up at Oscar’s entrance. He gently presses his spit slicked head against Oscar’s entrance a few times before he slowly penetrates.

Moving at an achingly slow pace, Pedro buries himself to the hilt, then stops. His breath catches in his throat as the sheer heat and tightness of Oscar around his cock are almost too much to bear. Pedro presses close to Oscar, his breath warm and weighty against Oscar’s throat, seeking solace in his proximity as he attempts to steady his nerves. Oscar anchors his fingers into Pedro’s hair, pulling gently, but with authority, until Pedro is looking into his eyes. Even though he’s already claimed dominance, there’s a look of questioning in Pedro’s eyes. Has his intense hunger for Oscar’s touch made him go too far? Oscar leans in, bringing Pedro's face close to his own, their foreheads touching. Gently brushing his lips against Pedro's, he softly murmurs "yes". Just a single word, one syllable, is enough to calm Pedro’s nerves. He begins to move his hips in slow, tight circles, mustering all of his willpower to not cum immediately. Oscar bites Pedro’s chin playfully, drags his tongue across Pedro’s lips and kisses him deeply with a soft tenderness that matches the sudden mood shift. Oscar rolls his hips against Pedro’s, gradually increasing the arc of the circle, but maintaining the same slow pace. Their passionate moans reverberate throughout the room as their tempos slowly increase.

Oscar peppers tender kisses along Pedro’s shoulder, his fingertips tracing the line of his spine while Pedro kneads his fingers into the back of Oscar’s neck, his lips grazing along Oscar’s jaw. Pedro buries his face into the crook of Oscar’s neck as his hand finds Oscar’s cock, pressed between their stomachs, and begins to stroke him slowly once more. As their tempo escalates, verging on madness, Oscar caresses Pedro’s face, pulling him close. Both struggling to catch their breath, their lips meet softly as they breathe heavily into each other's mouths. They can each feel the buildup of pressure deep in their centers, that marvelous tingling sensation, as their muscles begin tightening. Their orgasms erupt at almost the same time, washing over them with such intensity they collapse into one another. Oscar’s release runs slowly down their chests, stomachs and Pedro’s hand, quite the exquisite mess. Oscar still pulses around Pedro’s cock with the aftershocks of his release. They sit in tranquil silence, gently tracing each other's features and weaving invisible poetry across their bodies, all the while exchanging tender whispers of affirmation. Pedro licks Oscar’s cum off his palm, sharing the sinful taste of him with an ardent kiss. Only for a moment, Oscar pulls back, sucking each of Pedro’s fingers clean, never breaking their eye contact as he revels in the shared taste of himself and the salt of Pedro’s skin. Once again their lips meet, tongues tangling in their carnal desire.

Pedro kicks off his pants and boxers, adding them to the crumpled shirt and robe on the floor. They lie on the bed in silence, gazing at each other’s faces for several minutes before either of them speaks.

“When did you get here,” Pedro asks, his lips pressed against Oscar’s neck, just below his ear. He smiles when Oscar shivers.

“Around 9 this morning. Had to hang out at the airport for about 40 minutes to make sure you didn’t see me.” Oscar kisses the tip of Pedro’s nose before sliding off the bed. When Pedro reaches out for him, he grins and drags his fingertips along the underside of Pedro’s arm. “I’m just going to get us some wine.”

“How did you get in here,” Pedro asks with amusement. “Did you use your charm on the front desk clerk? He’s pretty sexy.”

“I had to blow so many people to get in here,” Oscar chuckles, handing Pedro both glasses as he climbs back into bed, propping himself up on the mound of pillows. Once he’s settled, he takes his glass back and places both tiny stuffed tigers between them. “Starting with Raul at the front desk. You’re right, he is pretty sexy, but no one holds a candle to you, mi tigre,” he says sweetly, picking up the smallest of the two stuffed tigers and walking it across Pedro’s thigh and up his side.

“What are these,” Pedro asks, picking up the larger of the two tiny tigers and examining it closely.

“Un tigre para mi tigre (a tiger for my tiger), well, two tigers. I asked Luca, the concierge, to find me a tiny tiger while I got the room ready, and he got both because he wasn’t sure the one was small enough,” Oscar says, his smile radiating.

“You must have given those guys really good head to be on a first name basis,” Pedro laughs, trying not to spill his wine.

“I’ve not had any complaints so far,” Oscar retorts playfully, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Well, you certainly won’t get any from me,” Pedro says in a sincere, yet amused, tone.

Pedro winks at him, and Oscar is worried, for the briefest of moments, that his heart may actually explode with the love he feels for this man. He inhales deeply, taking in the mingling smells of Pedro, flowers, wine and sex. It’s an intoxicating aroma, one he hopes he’ll smell for the rest of this life, and in any and all lives thereafter. A tender smile brightens Oscar’s features as he finally exhales, etching this moment into his heart. He knows he’s been staring, but there’s nothing to be done about it.

“What,” Pedro asks, becoming slightly self conscious, “do I have something on my face?”

“Only that gorgeous smile and magnificent mustache,” Oscar responds as he checks the time. “We’d better grab a quick shower and get dressed if we’re gonna make our dinner reservations on time.”

Within moments of getting into the shower they’ve forgotten all about dinner. Three long months of desire and longing and they just can’t keep their hands off each other. They make love again in the shower and by time they finally get out their reservation window has passed, so they order room service and feed each other in bed. Bellies and libidos temporarily sated they cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a bed of flower petals.

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

Act VI: A Long, Long Time

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

When Pedro wakes up the next morning he’s alone, lying naked atop the comforter. The room feels cold and empty. Did he imagine last night? It felt so real, so solid. Had separation anxiety finally driven him to the point of actual insanity?

When he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, he feels something on his cheek. Pulling it away, he stares at it briefly. A lilac-colored daisy petal, one of his favorite flowers in his all-time favorite color.

“Fuck. If this isn’t real, it’s the cruelest god damned dream ever,” he mutters to himself.

From the corner of his eye, he sees movement on the terrace. Oscar is sitting on a chaise drinking coffee and watching ships pass by. Pedro grins as he watches Oscar’s hair blowing in the gentle breeze off the Mediterranean Sea. Pedro steps into the bathroom and grabs the second plush white robe from a hook behind the door, splashing cold water on his face before joining Oscar outside.

As the sliding glass door opens Oscar looks over his shoulder and grins the grin of lovesick fools. Pedro can’t help but smile as the last 365 days flash before his eyes. How has it been a whole year already?

“Hola, mi carino. How did you sleep?”

“I’ve not slept this good since I left LA,” Pedro responds with a sigh. His voice suddenly vulnerable, he continues, “I still can’t believe you’re here. I’m terrified I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.” His grin quickly turns into a grimace.

Oscar wonders whether Pedro can sense his heartache as he gazes into those wide, uncertain brown eyes, questioning the reality of the moment. Without uttering a word, he wraps Pedro in a tight, reassuring embrace, unsure of how to convince him that this is not just a dream. The euphoria of their previous night has evaporated, leaving behind a lingering sense of doubt and disbelief.

"I'm here, my love, always here for you. I'll be by your side until we're ready to go home," Oscar assures him, kissing him gently on his cheek. Pedro's tears begin to flow softly, as he nestles his face into Oscar's neck, inhaling his comforting scent. All Oscar can do is caress his back and run his fingers through his hair, offering silent solace. They hold each other tightly for several minutes, rocking gently.

As Pedro’s tears subside, he takes a small step back. “I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to—,”

"Hush now, my love. There’s no need for apologies. I know how hard this has been for you. I only wish I could've been here sooner," Oscar whispers, his touch gentle as he caresses Pedro's cheek. Their lips meet in a tender kiss, filled with longing yet soft and romantic. “Do you feel like getting some breakfast?”

Within fifteen minutes they’re downstairs in the hotel restaurant browsing the menu. Their feet caress each other under the table as they savor their food. Beaming with delight, they relish the thrill of being together again after such a long time apart.

When they’ve had more than their fill at breakfast they take a stroll through the city streets, admiring the beauty of their surroundings as Pedro points out some of his favorite places. They wander through small, local artisan shops, buying the occasional piece of artwork or furniture. Most of these purchases are prepared for shipment to either Los Angeles or Brooklyn. Visiting small fruit stands they sample several pieces of exotic fruit, requesting some to be delivered to the hotel. They also purchase small trinkets to exchange since their actual gifts are in Brooklyn. Oscar regrets not bringing their gifts with him, but he didn’t want to risk them being lost by the airline.

Around 1:30 pm they stop for lunch at a cozy little cafe before walking down to the beach. Afterwards they walk, hand in hand, along the water’s edge in silence, holding their shoes as the warm water splashes against their bare feet. When they come upon a secluded stretch of beach they sit on the white sand and watch the waves crash against the shore. Pedro leans his head on Oscar’s shoulder, with one hand resting on Oscar’s right thigh. Oscar, in turn, places his hand atop Pedro’s, his fingers tracing delicate lines across its surface. They sit on the shore for several hours, talking about everything and nothing. After a while Pedro curls up beside Oscar, lying his head in Oscar’s lap. Oscar runs his fingers through Pedro’s hair, and before long Oscar can hear Pedro’s light snore. They stay like this until Pedro’s growling stomach wakes him up. Walking back into town, they dine at the restaurant they missed their reservation for the previous night. By the time they return to the hotel the sun is starting to set. They sit on the terrace and watch it slip below the horizon while they sip wine.

“This view is stunning. Do you get to enjoy it often?”

“At least once a day I try to sit out here and watch the boats pass. There are fewer at night, but sometimes they’ll be lit with string lights. Those are my favorite.”

When Oscar’s glass is empty, he stands, taking Pedro’s empty glass with him as he goes inside to refresh their drinks. Upon his return, he sets their glasses on a small table before moving behind Pedro, where he begins to massage his shoulders. He can feel so much tension stored there. His thumbs work deep into the tissue, slowly loosening the muscles. His right hand glides, palm extended, tracing down Pedro’s chest, over his abdomen, before gently lifting the hem of Pedro’s shirt. Pedro leans forward just enough to allow Oscar to pull his shirt off, before tossing it on top of the now vacant lounger. As he reclines, Oscar tenderly kisses Pedro's warm skin, planting a trail of kisses from the nape of his neck to just beneath his earlobe. Pedro moans softly as Oscar nibbles, his left hand running over Pedro’s chest. Gently squeezing Oscar's hand and giving a slight tug, he silently encourages Oscar to come around. Oscar's fingers lightly brush against Pedro's shoulder as he moves around to the front of Pedro's chaise lounge and settles himself astride Pedro's thighs. Hands on Pedro’s sides, Oscar leans in, kissing his lover deeply. Pedro's hands rest high on Oscar's back, gliding downward with deliberate slowness. Upon reaching the hem of Oscar's shirt, he firmly grasps it with both hands, leisurely slipping it over Oscar's head and casually tossing it on top of his own. Hands resting on Oscar’s hips, Pedro licks his lips as he takes in the sight before him, a view he’s missed for what feels like an eternity. As his gaze travels over Oscar's physique, Oscar leans in close, his lips nearly brushing against Pedro's, his warm breath heavy against Pedro's moist lips.

“Touch me,” Oscar commands quietly.

“Where?” Pedro asks, suddenly nervous and unsure of himself. Having spent so many months apart has made it feel like it’s his first time all over again.

“Wherever you want to, Pedrito. You’re in charge. I’m yours to do with as you please.”

Grasping Pedro’s hands, he guides them up his stomach, pressing them firmly to his own chest. Oscar craves Pedro’s touch in every way imaginable, utterly consumed by his tactile desire. Even though they couldn’t keep their hands off each other the night before, it still feels like he’s not felt the heat of Pedro’s hungry touch for a lifetime. Leaning in, Pedro brushes his lips gently against Oscar’s, savoring the moment, while his hands move up and down Oscar’s chest. His fingers move across Oscar’s skin as if he were reading an enthralling story written in braille. A soft moan escapes Oscar’s lips as Pedro lightly drags his nails over his lover's nipples and ribs. When his fingers reach the top of Oscar’s shorts, they hook into the waist, pulling the band taught, until he can see the dark grove of Oscar’s pubic hair. The band sounds a satisfying snap as he releases it, causing Oscar to inhale sharply. Oscar bites his lower lip as Pedro’s fingers brush over the outline of his awakening cock. Fingers glide delicately over Oscar's thighs, tracing a path to his knees. When he reaches the hem of Oscar’s shorts, his hands discreetly slip beneath the fabric, his thumbs exerting gentle pressure as his hands move up Oscar’s inner thighs, eliciting a satisfying groan for his efforts. He continues to run his hands up and down Oscar’s thighs in this manner, each upward journey bringing him closer to his prize, but deliberately never quite reaching it.

“God I’ve missed this so much, your touch, your scent, your taste,” Pedro whispers as he leans in, his forehead resting against Oscar’s. Their noses nestle together seamlessly as Pedro tenderly presses his lips to Oscar’s in a series of innocent kisses.

“Me too, Pedrito,” Oscar says softly, his fingers gently caressing Pedro’s back. “The night you left was hard. I was sitting alone in the LA house completely immersed in you, yet you were getting further and further away from me. I sat on the balcony for hours just staring out into the city, willing myself to stop thinking of you not being with me.” Oscar nuzzles Pedro, still so desperate for his touch. Oscar sighs. “I’d intended to head to New York anyways, but after that first night, I knew I couldn’t stay in LA. It would have driven me mad.”

“When we talked about it before I left it seemed like it would be so easy. Daily phone calls and texts, video calls when we could manage. But it was just like this never-ending series of things that prevented us from doing any of that,” Pedro replies softly.

“When I went to bed that first night, the bed seemed so big and empty. I could smell you on the sheets, could almost feel your touch, but it was always just out of reach. I’d try running my fingers over my chest, pretending it was you, I even tried jerking off, but it just wasn’t the same.” Oscar leans back, wanting to stare into those rich cocoa eyes, wanting to lose himself in them. “I decided two things that night. First, that I was going to go back to New York the next day, and second, that until we could be together again, I wasn’t going to touch myself.” His hands move slowly up Pedro’s torso, nails dragging feather soft, as they descend. “Regardless of whether we communicated via phone, video chat, or in person, I felt it wouldn't be right to deny you pleasure if I indulged in mine. So, I only allowed myself pleasure when you could share in the experience as well. It’s why I was so quick to loosen the rules. Had I known it was causing you so much distress I’d have lifted them entirely before you even left.”

“Really?” Pedro asks, his fingers still raking up and down Oscar’s thighs, still not quite reaching the apex.

Oscar shrugs as his fingers begin to fuss with the buttons of Pedro’s shorts. He grins as he unfastens each button. He’d not seen a button fly since the 90’s.

“What?” Pedro laughs.

“You’re making me work for it tonight,” Oscar chuckles.

“I don’t want you to think I’m too easy,” Pedro replies with a mischievous wink.

“I would never think that, darling,” Oscar says in a sultry tone as he pulls the fabric away, exposing the base of his lover's shaft. God how he loves it when Pedro goes commando.

Licking, then biting his lower lip, Oscar lightly runs his index finger up and down this small section of newly exposed skin. Grasping the sides of Pedro’s shorts Oscar tugs gently, prompting Pedro to lift his hips. Oscar shimmies the shorts down just enough to expose most of Pedro’s cock. Their eyes lock as he runs his index and middle fingers smoothly up and down the sides of Pedro’s exposed length. Pedro breathes slowly, deeply, gripping the edges of the chaise, hoping it will help anchor his concentration. Oscar continues this for several minutes, until Pedro is gasping, writhing under his touch.

“Do you like that, baby?”

Pedro nods as a shiver runs through him. Grasping Pedro’s shorts, Oscar slides them down until he’s just past Pedro’s knees. Pedro lifts his legs, allowing the shorts to be removed and discarded on the growing pile of clothes. Taking Pedro’s left foot in hand, he kisses from Pedro’s inner calf to his inner thigh, draping Pedro’s legs over his shoulders as he leans in closer. Oscar alternates between kissing, licking and biting both of Pedro’s inner thighs, eliciting a series of satisfying moans. He licks away pearls of precum that have started to drip down Pedro’s hard cock, before taking the tip into his mouth. When Pedro’s hips lift off the chaise, Oscar places his left hand, fingers splayed, over Pedro’s lower abdomen, gently pushing him back down. He takes Pedro deeper at an achingly slow, but exquisitely delicious, pace, until his chin rests on Pedro’s balls.

“Siete infiernos… Daddy…” Gasping for the breaths that were stolen, he curls his fingers around Oscar’s dark locks, tugging with urgency. “I need you inside me, mi amor. Fuck me until the only name I know is yours. Please…” Pedro begs with a desperate cry.

Gently resting Pedro’s legs back on the chaise, Oscar straddles his legs once more. He crawls forward on all fours, licking a slow, lascivious line up Pedro’s stomach, stopping only when his tongue glides across Pedro’s lips. Pedro grazes his teeth over Oscar’s chin before running his tongue across it. When Oscar leans back Pedro whimpers, until they make eye contact. Holding his gaze, Oscar slowly tilts his head down. Pedro’s eyes follow, as if hypnotized, being guided to the waist of Oscar’s shorts. Pedro leans in, nipping and sucking Oscar’s nipples. Fingers hooking into the elastic band once more, Pedro unhurriedly slides Oscar’s shorts down to his knees, where Oscar quickly maneuvers to discard them. He tosses them haphazardly onto the pile of their clothes, where they rest precariously on the edge of the lounger.

Eyes locked, Pedro spits into his palm, working his hand up and down Oscar’s cock. Oscar positions himself between Pedro’s drawn up legs, licking his index and middle fingers, before sticking them in Pedro’s mouth. Once they’re thoroughly wet, he runs them over Pedro’s tight hole as he lines himself up. He enters slowly, pleased at Pedro’s sharp intake of air. Even a year later it still feels like their first night together, warm and familiar, yet tight and unexplored. But he knows that last thought is incorrect, because he’s explored his lover more times than he can count, each time as exhilarating as the first. Oscar moves slowly at first, reading Pedro’s cues, before increasing his tempo. With each thrust Pedro lifts his hips, taking Oscar as deep as possible while simultaneously clenching his muscles. Oscar groans loudly at the tightening sensation. He alternates between quick, shallow thrusts and slow, deep penetration. With each slow thrust Pedro grips Oscar’s hips, pulling him deeper still, sometimes holding him in place for several seconds, ankles crossed behind Oscar’s back, savoring being completely filled.

Supporting himself on his left arm, Oscar leans in close. Pedro’s panting breaths are like fire against his lips as they crash into Pedro’s in a ravenous kiss. His right hand encircles Pedro’s cock, stroking him between their stomachs. It’s almost too much for either of them to bear after so many months of limited contact. Oscar bites Pedro’s shoulder just hard enough to elicit a passionate cry.

“There it is, mi tigre. I want the people across the sound to hear how much you’re enjoying yourself. I want them to be able to hear those feral sounds you’re making for me. I want them to know you belong to me!”

Under the starlit sky Pedro's voice quivers as he confesses to Oscar, "You own every part of me. My every breath, my every heartbeat. My soul."

"And I am entirely yours, in every conceivable manner, in every possible universe,” Oscar whispers against Pedro’s kiss swollen lips.

Their tongues delicately brush against each other's as they exhale heavily into one another's mouths, their lips tantalizingly close but never quite touching. He can see the telltale signs that Pedro is precariously close to the edge. Oscar presses Pedro’s cock against his own stomach as he ruts harder, the friction of Pedro’s cock grinding against his abdomen a sinful pleasure. The sounds this elicits from Pedro are absolutely obscene and Oscar isn’t sure if either of them can last much longer.

“Say my name when you cum for me,” Oscar whispers into Pedro’s ear.

Even though it wasn’t a command, those three words never fail to drown him in the sea of pleasure. Pedro cries Oscar’s name to the stars that pepper the night sky as his cock spasms with his release. Pedro’s glistening cum drips in thick rivulets down Oscar’s chest and hand, pooling where their bodies meet.

“Cum for me, Daddy, I want to feel you explode inside of me!”

Pedro’s wishes ever his command, Oscar thrusts deeply into his lover, the sound of his hips hitting Pedro’s thighs like gunshots in the still of the night. Oscar vocalizes loudly as Pedro’s muscles pulse around his throbbing cock, his cum erupting with enough force to temporarily expel the air from his lungs. Panting heavily, Oscar licks the spend that’s ran down his palm and forearm. Still embedded, relishing the heat and involuntary muscle contractions, his hips work slowly back and forth. Oscar runs his hands over his chest, glazing Pedro’s release across his torso. Leaning forward, Oscar cups Pedro’s face with both hands, gently pulling him forward. Pedro props himself up with his left hand, right arm wrapping around Oscar’s neck, fingers lost in soft curls. Oscar kisses him greedily before licking Pedro’s face clean. Now it’s Oscar’s turn to lean back as Pedro licks his essence off Oscar’s chest, savoring the taste of them.

Oscar feels himself slowly sliding out as Pedro reclines once more, back flush against the lounger. Pressing Pedro’s legs against his stomach, Oscar lays prone between them and watches his cum trickle out of Pedro’s stretched hole before lapping it up with his tongue. Once every last drop has been claimed, Oscar props himself up enough to allow Pedro to stretch his legs out, before crawling up far enough to lay his head on Pedro’s still quivering stomach. Pedro’s fingers twirl around Oscar’s damp curls as they work to steady their breathing as they lie in the moonlight, spent and sated.

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

Act VII: Adrift In A Sea of Bliss

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

The following weeks pass in a flurry of utter madness. One extra week quickly becomes three. Each one filled with ten to twelve hour workdays, five days a week, until production finally manages to wrap the shoot on Tuesday, October 29. True to his word, Oscar remains by Pedro’s side throughout the concluding weeks of production, never missing a day on set. When they walk off set for the final time Pedro is in one of his joyfully chaotic moods. Oscar hasn’t seen him this happy since the party at Jason’s house in July.

“Now that you’re finally free, what do you want to do?”

Pedro looks at his phone and sees it’s late, too late to really go anywhere or do anything outside of bar hopping, and he’s not in the mood for that. Pursing his lips, he ponders for several moments before it comes to him.

“There’s a beautiful place just outside of town called Hastings Gardens. The views are magnificent from every side.”

They stop at the hotel concierge desk where Luca has left a picnic basket full of local fruits, wine, small glasses and a blanket. As Pedro runs their stuff to the room Oscar asks Luca to reschedule the private boat charter one last time. Minutes later a private car drops them off just outside of the garden entrance. They walk around the park, taking time to appreciate the beauty of nature in an area encased by stone. After a brief walk around the rim of the park they settle at a spot overlooking the glittering beauty of Manoel Island. Lights sparkle on the rippling waters surrounding the small land mass. They unfurl their blanket on the garden’s sloping concrete border, watching passing ships as they savor fresh fruit.

“I’m so glad this is finally over. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” Pedro pauses, his brow creasing, “I was starting to resent even coming here. This whole experience almost ruined this country for me.” Taking Oscar’s hand, Pedro looks deep into his eyes. “And thank you for coming. I’d have probably spiraled way worse than I did had you not come.”

Oscar turns their coupled hands over, pressing his lips tenderly to the back of Pedro’s.

“Sabes que haría cualquier cosa por ti, mi corazón. (You know I would do anything for you, my heart.) I’m sorry this turned out to be such a bad experience for you, but I’m grateful it hasn’t diminished your appreciation for the location.”

Pedro leans into Oscar, resting his head on his shoulder. They sit, fingers entwined, gazing at the city below. As Pedro nuzzles Oscar’s neck his eyes cast upward. He gasps softly. He’d been so focused on the beauty below he almost didn’t notice the beauty above them. The Milky Way glows in brilliant hues of purple, blue and pink. In the stillness of the night, under the Milky Way, they lay holding hands until the park closes at 10 PM.

***

When they return to the hotel they undress and lie naked in bed, legs entangled. They lay in silence for several minutes, lost in one another’s gaze. Pedro softly glides his fingertips up and down the curve of Oscar’s side, while Oscar delicately traces the contours of Pedro’s face. With each pass, Pedro’s fingers travel further south, until finally reaching his hip, where fanned fingers move slowly over Oscar’s pelvis. Running his middle finger up and down Oscar’s sleeping length, Pedro smiles impishly when he feels his lovers cock twitch.

“You are insatiable, mi tigre. Just one of the millions of things adore about you.”

Oscar slides forward until they’re almost nose to nose. Seizing Pedro’s chin, he trails his tongue across the side of Pedro’s face before gently nudging his nose. Pedro tilts his head, exposing the thick column of his neck, where Oscar nips and sucks until a bluish-purple blush darkens the skin. When Pedro’s lips part in a low moan, Oscar takes the plump lower lip between his teeth before kissing him ravenously. Before he realizes what’s happening, Oscar is flat on his back, Pedro straddling his thighs. A low, primal growl escapes him when Pedro starts grinding against his pelvis. When he attempts to sit up, Pedro pins him to the bed with his left hand.

Arching forward, pressing both hands to Oscar’s stomach, Pedro licks his lips as he continues to move his hips with precision. Eyes alight with mischief, he takes Oscar’s hands, guiding them up his thighs. Oscar’s nails bite into muscle, his skin burning from the heat of Pedro's cock pressing against him as Pedro grinds harder still. Oscar’s cock throbs with need, the friction almost too much to bear. Oscar groans loudly as he reaches for Pedro’s hips, gripping them tightly. He bucks involuntarily as his lover continues to ride him, Pedro’s nails dragging across the velvety soft skin just below Oscar’s navel.

Oscar moans softly, biting his lower lip. Turning his head to the side, he whispers “You feel so good against me.”

"I know you want me, Oscar," Pedro pants as he continues to grind against him. "You want my cock, don't you?"

Retrieving the lube from the small bedside table, Pedro reaches down between them, grabbing hold of Oscar's throbbing member. He applies the sticky liquid liberally onto Oscar’s cock, feeling it grow harder beneath his touch, stroking it slowly, until he’s fully erect. He rubs Oscar’s head over his entrance before slowing lowering himself onto it. Pedro moans softly in his lover's ear as he takes him deeper. Hips moving in slow, wide circles, he guides Oscar’s hand to his own erect member, encouraging Oscar to touch and explore him as he continues to ride him.

"I want you to stroke my cock while I ride you," he says as he leans forward, pressing his hips against Oscar's. "I want to feel your hands all over me while you’re inside me,” he whispers against Oscar’s lips in a low, sultry tone, before leaning back to give Oscar full access to his body. "Make me cum for you.”

"Anything for you," Oscar gasps, wrapping his fingers around Pedro's hard length, stroking him firmly but gently. He can feel the heat radiating off Pedro's skin as the heady scent of sex fills the air around them.

Pedro’s head lolls back as he moans with pleasure, his love bite glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp. His hips roll in quick, concentric circles, as he continues to fuck himself on Oscar’s cock, giving his ass a thorough pounding. Having this control over Oscar is exhilarating and he finds he’s not felt such a marvelous ache since the first time Oscar edged him. This ache is almost insufferable, yet oddly euphoric. He feels as though he’s chasing a high he just can’t quite grasp. He loves being at Oscar's mercy, completely under his control, he always has. And yet, even as he enjoys every moment of it, Pedro knows that right now he needs more than just this if he’s going to finally reach that high he’s chasing so desperately. He needs to feel Oscar clenching around his throbbing cock, which has already started leaking with evidence of his pleasure.

"Oscar," he manages between gasping breaths. Leaning over Oscar, his damp curls framing his face, Pedro nibbles Oscar’s earlobe before growling quietly in his ear, “I want to fuck you until the only coherent sound you can make is my name.”

They maneuver around on the bed until they’re sitting on their knees face to face. Oscar runs his thumb over Pedro’s crown before bringing it to his lips. His eyes dark with desire he licks his thumb slowly, savoring the taste, before reaching for the lube. Pedro guides Oscar’s hand as they spread the gel over Pedro’s cock. With a devilish smirk Pedro makes a twirling motion with his finger. Oscar bites his lower lip, kisses Pedro quickly and slowly turns around. Pedro places Oscar’s hands on the headboard and nudges Oscar’s leg with his knee. In silent obedience Oscar spreads his legs and leans forward. He gasps at the sudden cold as Pedro applies the lube, running his finger around the edge before slowly inserting a finger, then two, to help loosen him up.

Placing the container back on the nightstand, Pedro bites Oscar’s shoulder as he aligns himself. Feeling Pedro’s tip at his eager entrance, Oscar pushes himself backwards, achingly slow, until he’s accepted Pedro’s full length. Oscar groans as Pedro starts to move, slowly at first, but quickly gaining momentum. Left hand gripping his hip, Pedro snakes his right hand around Oscar’s waist, fingers fanning out over his stomach. Pedro's fingers glide down his lover's cock with tantalizing slowness, his thumb hooking over the base of it as he circles around the underside of his balls. He strokes him in this tight arc for several seconds before moving his hand to fully grip Oscar's shaft. As he continues to stroke him, Pedro ruts himself deeper and harder.

Pedro leans forward and whispers into Oscar's ear, "You like it when I touch you like this? When I stroke you and fuck you? Do you want to cum, mi gatito? ¿Le vas a pedir a tu tigre que te de el placer que deseas (Are you going to ask your tiger to give you the pleasure you want)?”

Oscar moans softly in response, nodding eagerly as he tightly clutches the headboard. Pressing his ass back against Pedro’s hips, Oscar looks over his shoulder at Pedro. Baring his gritted teeth, he continues to push back, impaling himself again and again as hard as he can.

“I want to feel your hand gripping my throat while you fuck me. Choke me until I see stars. Make me beg for it like the dirty little slut that I am.”

Their grunts and groans fill the room as they go harder. Soon the headboard is banging violently against the wall with an erratic rhythm. Pedro briefly releases Oscar’s cock, weaving his fingers deep into Oscar’s hair, pulling it tightly before pushing his face against the wall. Oscar moans loudly as stars dance across his backs of his eyelids.

“Pedro, you’re so fucking amazing. It feels so god damned good when you touch me, when you fuck me. I want to cum for you, mi tigre. Please, baby, let me cum for you. I need it, baby, I need it so bad. I want to paint these walls with my cum for you, Pedro… please.”

Pedro's fingers still grip Oscar's throat and stroke his cock as he leans in to lick a bead of sweat from between Oscar's shoulder blades. The sensation sends a shiver down Oscar’s spine and Pedro can feel himself growing even harder at the thought of having complete control over his lover.

"You taste so good," he murmurs softly, his lips trailing down Oscar's back. “I wanna let you cum, baby, I do. But first, you’re gonna have to tell me how badly you need it,” Pedro purrs against Oscar’s sweat slicked skin.

“I’m gonna go mad if I can’t cum for you, mi tigre. The feel of you, everywhere, all at once, it’s almost too much to bear.” His voice just above a whisper, Oscar begs softly, “please, baby, please let me cum for you.”

“Hmm, I love hearing you be submissive. It’s no wonder it turns you on so much to hear me beg. Cum for me, gatito,” Pedro whispers into his ear, his hand pressing Oscar’s cock flat to his stomach.

Oscar’s body vibrates like a tuning fork as his orgasm runs through him, expelling his release all over his chest and stomach. As the waves of euphoria continue to crash, Oscar’s muscles contract tightly around Pedro’s cock, the spasms driving Pedro to near dizziness. Releasing his grip from both Oscar’s throat and cock, Pedro firmly grips Oscar’s hip with one hand and places his other flat against the wall next to Oscar’s. Pedro rests his head on Oscar’s shoulder as he nips at the tender skin of the crook of his neck.

“God, you’re so tight, baby... fuck, mi gatito, you’re squeezing me so tightly with that perfect ass of yours. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yes,” Oscar pants as another wave of pleasure ripples through him and he involuntary clenches down on Pedro’s cock again.

“Just like that, fuck! I’m gonna fill you up with my cum and watch it seep out of that tight hole of yours, soaking my cock, mi puta!” Pedro exclaims as his orgasm starts to build, radiating from his center, pulsing through his body like electricity. His balls tighten as his seed fills Oscar, hot and thick, his fingers pressing deep into Oscar’s hip.

Oscar winces and lets out a soft hiss as Pedro's nails dig into his skin, relishing the sensation of delicious pain. He reaches back, gripping Pedro’s side as another shockwave travels up his spine. Pedro's palm meets Oscar's hand, their fingers intertwining as he guides them to Oscar's chin. With a gentle touch, he turns Oscar's head to the side, placing a tender kiss on his lips. Fingers still interlaced, Pedro peppers a trail of soft kisses down Oscar’s neck and across his shoulder. He kisses Oscar’s palm as he backs up, leaving Oscar feeling empty. Helping Oscar off the bed, Pedro kisses him deeply and leads him to the shower.

***

When they finally awake the following morning Pedro stretches lazily and yawns. A glance at the bedside table reveals it’s almost noon. After a leisurely lunch they take a car to the local marina, where a lone ship sits in the last slip at the end of the dock. Nauti Buoy is written across the stern. When Oscar points out that this is the boat he's rented for them, Pedro is surprised by how luxurious it looks. He’s been on plenty of boats in his lifetime, but none quite like this. As they climb aboard, he feels a sense of anticipation building inside him.

As the ship leaves the marina Oscar gives Pedro a tour of the upper decks. When Pedro heads towards the stairs leading to the lower desks, Oscar stops him, assuring him they’ll explore the lower decks after dinner. They ride north, admiring the crystal waters and ancient landscapes. Pedro loves being out on the water like this, surrounded by nothing but open space and endless possibility. Two and a half hours later they pass by Blue Lagoon, a secluded island beach. The medium sized yacht drifts past a packed ferry dock, before dropping anchor in a truly secluded cove. They alternate between swimming in the warm waters of the Mediterranean and lying on the white sand beach until the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

When they return to the boat Pedro is surprised to learn the vessel actually has four crew members instead of just two, including a chef. They dine on the very top deck, overlooking the water as the sky darkens. After dinner it’s finally time to explore the lower decks. The first of the two has sleeping quarters and a kitchen. While there is plenty of room to comfortably accommodate everyone presently onboard, Oscar explains that the crew will be staying ashore while they’re anchored in the cove. After they’ve toured each room on this deck they make their way deeper into the vessel.

Oscar opens a door at the end of the hall and flips a switch. As their eyes adjust to the light Pedro takes in the sight before him and blushes. This room is unlike anything he has ever seen. The walls are lined with various devices designed to assert, or relinquish, control. While Pedro is no stranger to many of the devices hanging neatly from hooks on the wall, he’s not had personal experience with any of them. A swing, suspended from the ceiling, hangs in the far corner of the room. He knows that, before the weekend is over, he’ll become very familiar with many of the devices here.

As they walk through the room, Oscar points out various instruments, explaining their function and operation. Pedro is especially intrigued by a pulley system in the middle of the room, which connects to points on both the ceiling and the floor. Oscar can’t help but smile as he watches Pedro examine the room. This room was clearly designed for exploration, to allow one to let go of their inhibitions and experience new sensations in complete safety. Pedro feels a shiver run down his spine as he takes it all in, excited by the possibilities this room has to offer.

“Tell me more about this…” Pedro says, his fingers trailing over a padded leather wrist restraint, which is part of the pulley system that caught his eye when they first walked in.

“Hmm, this is one of my favorites,” Oscar says, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Oscar can see that Pedro is nervous, but excited. Taking his hand, Oscar kisses him softly as he unbuckles the first wrist restraint. To Pedro’s surprise, Oscar hands him the cuff and extends his arm. Nodding his head, Oscar grins as Pedro hesitantly fastens the strap around his wrist.

When the first strap is secured Oscar gestures to the second one.

“What if someone comes down here?” Pedro asks nervously.

“They’ve already left for the mainland, darling. It’s just you and me.” He stares into Pedro’s eyes, sensing his trepidation. "I trust you," he says simply, giving Pedro a meaningful look that tells him everything he needs to know.

Pedro feels a bolt of excitement run through him at these three simple words. He has never been given this level of control in their game play before, and it's both exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once. But he knows that he can handle it, for Oscar's sake, if not his own. After the second strap is secure, Oscar motions to a metal rod on the floor. Pedro drops to his knees and examines the straps at either end. Although he doesn’t know the name of this device, he has a fairly good idea of what it does. Slowly but surely the restraints are fastened around Oscar's body, and Pedro feels more powerful with each buckle that clicks into place. When Oscar’s wrists and ankles are finally bound, and the nylon ropes pulled taut, Pedro feels a sense of satisfaction unlike anything else in the world. He takes a step back to admire his work, gazing at Oscar with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he wants him.

"Are you comfortable? Nothing’s too tight?" Pedro asks softly, running his fingers over the soft padding that extends slightly past the leather on Oscar's wrist.

"It’s perfect and I'm more than comfortable," Oscar replies with a grin. "I’m incredibly fucking turned on."

“I can see that,” Pedro says looking down at the bulge in Oscar’s swim shorts. Seeing Oscar like this, his arms above his head, and his legs spread, is making his cock twitch. “Seeing you like this, helpless, is so fucking sexy.”

Pedro steps closer, gripping Oscar’s chin, kissing him gently on the lips, the corner of his mouth, his jaw. His lips trail down Oscar’s neck as he slowly unbuttons his lover's shirt. Fingers slipping inside, he brushes his thumbs over Oscar’s nipples before dragging his fingers down Oscar’s exposed stomach. Left hand gripping his hip, Pedro’s right rubs over the straining fabric of Oscar’s shorts, pressing the heel of his palm firmly against Oscar’s already hardening cock with each upward movement. Oscar moans each time Pedro applies pressure to his throbbing member, pushing his hips into every upward pass.

Pedro drops to his knees, kissing the fabric separating Oscar’s cock from his lips. Gripping the waist of Oscar’s shorts, Pedro slowly inches them down until his lovers' cock springs free. Oscar gasps loudly when Pedro’s nose rubs the underside of his length, the tip of his tongue drawing a line from base to tip. Pedro flicks his tongue over Oscar’s head before wrapping his lips around his thick cock. He stares up at Oscar, a wicked glint sparkling in his eyes as he watches Oscar watch him. Relaxing his jaw, Pedro takes him as deeply as he can, holding him there until he feels his lungs burn. Leaning back, he strokes his lover's shaft lazily before letting his cock slide down his throat again, keeping him there until his lungs ignite once more. Over and over again, he takes his lovers full length, while maintaining unwavering eye contact. Oscar realizes Pedro is catching on quickly as he tries to buck his hips forward, craving the heat of Pedro’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Oscar pants as he thrusts his hips forward again. “Please, baby. I want to feel you sweet lips around my cock again. You take me so well.”

He’s desperate for it and isn’t ashamed to show it. But with every thrust Pedro counters, leaning back just enough that Oscar can’t quite reach. He groans in frustration, feeling his pulse pounding against his temples. Pedro rises to his feet, turning his back to Oscar as he takes inventory of the tools at his disposal. His eyes are drawn to a suede flogger with a black and red braided handle. As he collects this from a hook on the wall Pedro spies a black satin eye mask, which he hooks onto his thumb. Oscar bites his lower lip when he sees what Pedro has found.

Pedro kisses the tip of Oscar’s nose as he slips the mask over Oscar’s eyes. As Oscar adjusts to losing a second of his five senses, his hearing becomes more attuned to his surroundings. He can hear waves gently breaking against the hull of the boat and the faint sound of rusting leather as Pedro allows the straps of the new toy to brush lightly against his bare chest. The soft suede feels amazing against his skin as Pedro guides it down his stomach and across his tender, aching member. As leather brushes over his swollen head he gasps.

“Do you like that, baby?” Pedro asks in a silky voice, enjoying his playthings involuntarily reactions to his teasing.

“It feels so good, mi tigre,” Oscar’s pants, “but nothing makes me feel quite as good as you do.” Licking his lips, Oscar continues, his tone playfully condescending. “Do you know how to use it?”

Pedro quickly takes the bait, drawing his arm back and slapping the flogger across Oscar’s chest and stomach. His strike is harder than he’d intended, but Pedro is pleasantly surprised when Oscar encourages him to put more strength behind it. With a slight hesitation, Pedro draws back again, hitting his lover harder. A satisfying snap fills the air as leather meets flesh and Pedro is rewarded for his efforts with a loud groan. Oscar licks his lips again, almost salivating, as he tells Pedro to do it again, commanding Pedro to hit him harder and lower.

“Are you sure,” Pedro asks, his tone slightly uncertain. When Oscar nods enthusiastically Pedro obeys.

The sounds of leather against leather and flesh, coupled with the feral sounds building deep in Oscar’s throat, are enough to make Pedro hard.

“Fuck, mi tigre, just like that!” Oscar exclaims, gripping the nylon ropes tightly.

Pedro smiles sinfully as he continues to flog his lover, elated by the sounds of ecstasy and the way Oscar’s body writhes with pleasure. But as much fun as as he’s having with these new toys, Pedro realizes he wants the chance to be where Oscar is now.

Kissing Oscar with a savage hunger, Pedro whispers against his lips, “Can I play now, Daddy?”

Oscar nods his head as his tongue caresses Pedro’s. Dropping to his knees, Pedro makes quick work of the ankle restraints. He drags his tongue slowly up Oscar’s length, catching pearls of pre-cum on the tip as he stands. He presses his body against Oscar as he undoes the wrist restraints, his erection pressing into Oscar’s stomach. As soon as Oscar’s hands are free, they find Pedro’s face, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. Although Oscar wants to see his pet bound in the same manner he was just released from, Oscar has his sights set on a different piece of furniture. Oscar quickly shrugs off his clothes, letting them fall to the floor as he pulls Pedro’s shirt over his head. Oscar teasingly tugs at the waist of Pedro's swim trunks, gently loosening the drawstring and slowly pulling them down, appreciating the view of Pedro's cock as they fall to the floor.

Taking Pedro’s hand, Oscar leads him to the swing. Pedro’s eyes go wide as he takes in all of the straps hanging from multiple anchor points on the ceiling, wondering how in the world this device is supposed to support him. Oscar explains each piece of the swing as he helps him get safely seated. He knows that he’ll have Pedro bound by his wrists and ankles soon enough, but feels the swing is a safer introduction to this new type of play. The device has a fully adjustable back support, but Pedro can’t help but feel like he’s climbing into a hammock. He chuckles nervously as he adjusts himself in the swing, trying to get centered. Taking in Pedro’s angelic innocence as he wiggles his hips in the swing makes Oscar grin so hard his cheeks hurt. How can he be so turned on by this man, yet find him so incredibly endearing at the same time?

“I’ve got you, baby. I won’t let you fall,” Oscar assures him, unable to suppress his own laughter.

Helping Pedro lie down in the swing, Oscar kisses Pedro’s calves as he secures his feet into the stirrups. Once everything has been securely fastened and Pedro confirms he’s comfortable, Oscar steps between Pedro’s spread legs, stopping when his pelvis is flush with Pedro’s ass. His cock settles perfectly between Pedro’s cheeks as Oscar begins to rock his hips back and forth. As he explains the pulley system to Pedro, Oscar runs the palm of his hand up and down the length of Pedro’s erection, his fingers spreading to accommodate Pedro’s girth on each downstroke. It doesn’t take long at all for Pedro to start rolling his hips against Oscar’s cock as it glides over his eager entrance.

Pedro adjusts the straps of the swing so he's sitting upright, with his knees pulled to his chest. He bites his lip in anticipation as he watches Oscar stroke his cock, spreading lube around until he glistens in the warm overhead light. A soft whimper escapes him as Oscar starts to apply lube to the ring of muscle nestled between the rounded cheeks of his ass. Oscar’s thick fingers hint at what’s to come, ensuring he's ready for the press of Oscar’s cock. He gently penetrates his lover, allowing Pedro time to relax around him. Gripping Pedro’s hips, Oscar moves slowly, teasing him with the tip of his cock and groaning at how tight his pet is.

“Do you want it, mi tigre? Do you want me to fill you up, to stretch that tight little hole of yours?” Pedro nods eagerly, licking his lips hungrily. “Let me hear how badly you want my cock inside you, baby,” Oscar says as he continues to rock against Pedro’s ass, tortuously teasing his bound tiger.

Pedro attempts to move in a way that would make Oscar go deeper, but realizes he is at Oscar’s mercy. He can control the back support of the swing, but Oscar controls the entire lower half of his body. Pedro moans, partly from pleasure, partly from frustration, as Oscar pushes the tip of his cock just deep enough to open him up, then pulls out, over and over again.

“God, you feel so fucking amazing, mi tigre. So tight and warm,” Oscar purrs as he begins to stroke Pedro’s cock with languid pleasure. “Do you like being teased, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Tell me, pet, what’s your favorite kind of teasing? “

“I love it when you bring me to the edge, Daddy,” Pedro’s breath hitches as Oscar increases his tempo on Pedro’s cock, hips still rocking, still refusing his lover full penetration.

“Do you enjoy being my plaything?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Pedro pants.

Pushing his aching member slightly deeper, just enough to elicit beautiful whimpers of longing, Oscar continues to edge Pedro for several more minutes. After what feels like a blissfully infinite lifetime Pedro can finally withstand this torture no longer.

Drawing in a deep breath, Pedro growls “FUCK ME!!” His knuckles turn white as he grips the straps tightly. His entire body trembles with need.

The inexplicably commanding tone in his voice makes Oscar’s cock jump with arousal. Releasing his hold on Pedro’s cock, Oscar grips his hips tightly, fingers biting into his skin. Unable to deny his lover any longer, Oscar drives his hips forward hard, the resounding slap of flesh against flesh filling the room.

“Fuck, yes! Give it to me, Daddy!”

Oscar continues to drive into him, hard and fast. He grunts through gritted teeth each time his hips smash against Pedro’s reddening cheeks. The speed and intensity of his movements fill Pedro with a heady euphoria. Still tightly gripping the left strap, Pedro sticks his middle fingers into his mouth, sucking them fervently. He moans around them as Oscar continues to ram his cock deep into his hole, so deep he would swear Oscar is rearranging his organs.

“Te sientes tan jodidamente bien dentro de mí. ¡Sigue adelante, nunca te detengas!” (You feel so fucking good inside me. Keep going, never stop!)

Pedro pants, trying to catch his breath as he grabs his cock and begins to stroke himself. The sounds spilling from his mouth are feral, resonating from deep in his throat. He’s too lost in his pleasure to be able to speak coherently. It’s all he can do to breathe, and even that is a difficult task. Seeing Pedro in such a delirious state drives Oscar’s libido into overdrive as he continues to fuck his lover with abandon.

“Fuck me like you hate me,” Pedro demands, stroking his shaft faster, pre-cum slicking his fingers, pearls dripping onto his stomach.

Oscar pauses for a moment, balls deep, like he’s considering this command. Pedro’s hand is a blur as he continues to aggressively stroke his cock. Oscar cups Pedro’s face in his left hand, leans in, and kisses him softly. His fingers trace a delicate path through Pedro’s hair, lingering at the soft nape of his neck as his hand gently settles at the back of his head, fingers still lost in his thick curls. His lips brushing Pedro’s ear, Oscar whispers, “I love you so much, mi amor,” and quickly kisses his cheek.

A split-second later Oscar’s fingers grip the hair on the back of Pedro’s head tightly, pulling hard, until Pedro’s eyes meet his own. Momentarily caught off guard, Pedro’s hand stops mid-stroke. His eyebrow arched, a challenging expression on his face, Pedro nods, almost imperceptibly. Oscar pulls back slightly, his fingers still threaded through Pedro’s hair, then slams his hips forward with enough force to cause the swing to lurch backwards. He grunts as he continues to thrust his hips forward, his back arching with forward momentum. His speed increases with each push of his pelvis. Beads of sweat glisten on his chest and trickle down his stomach, his breathing becoming more labored.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you, mi puta,” Oscar growls. Releasing his grip on Pedro’s hair, Oscar wraps his hands around Pedro’s thighs for leverage.

“Oh god, fuck. Yes, yes!” Pedro exclaims as he resumes masturbating. His head lulls back as Oscar continues to drive into him with no remorse.

“Make me cum, Daddy!” Pedro cries out as Oscar stretches and fills him.

“You’ll cum when I say you can cum, my little slut,” Oscar barks in response.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Oscar adjusts the position of the swing seat. His next powerful thrust hits home and Pedro cries his name in ecstasy as Oscar hits his sweet spot. He thrusts his hips forward again, Pedro’s pelvis now in the perfect position for his cock to hit that spot repeatedly. Pedro is utterly lost in pleasure. The sounds coming from him now are absolute music to Oscar’s ears and he can tell by the way his pet is writhing and moaning that he’ll cum soon, even if he’s not granted permission.

Oscar kisses and nips Pedro’s inner thighs, biding him to have a little more patience. Pedro slows his hand to a lazy stroke, his unfocused gaze shifting between the slickness on his stomach and Oscar’s sweat beaded face.

“Are you Daddy’s little slut? My dirty little cumslut?”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“Then show me, mi puta,” Oscar replies, driving into Pedro as he nips his calves.

When Oscar thrusts again it’s like he’s hit a detonator. Head lulling back and eyes closed, Pedro moans loudly as his cum spills over his chest, droplets landing on his exposed neck. Oscar bites his lower lip as his lover spasms around him, slowing down to enjoy the sensation. Waves of pleasure wash over Pedro as he tries to catch his breath. He can feel Oscar’s cock jump inside him and knows Oscar is so close to his own release. Clinching his muscles, Pedro growls when he hears Oscar groan loudly.

“Damn, baby, just a little tighter. I’m so fucking close, mi tigre!”

Pedro clenches as hard as his tired muscles will allow and Oscar finally falls into his own orgasm, filling his lover with his spend. Still nestled in his warmth, Oscar works the straps on the swing, freeing Pedro’s legs and feet, which Pedro wraps tightly around his waist. Freeing himself from the upper portion of the swing, Pedro wraps his arms around Oscar, kissing his face and neck. Nibbling Pedro’s shoulder, Oscar walks them out of the playroom, hitting the light switch on the way out.

When they’re in the boat’s master bedroom just a few steps down the hall, Oscar lays Pedro on the bed. His eyes closed, Pedro sprawls across the bed, stretching lazily as Oscar grabs 2 bottles of water from the mini fridge in the corner of the room. Setting both on a small side table, he steps into the bathroom. Pedro hears the running water but is too tired to pay it any mind. Moments later Oscar emerges holding a washcloth. Oscar sets the cloth on the small bedside table and settles in beside Pedro. Pedro snuggles up to Oscar, who pets his mewling tiger.

“You’re such an obedient boy. You were fucking amazing in there,” Oscar says, kissing the tip of Pedro’s nose and peppering Pedro’s lips with soft kisses.

Oscar runs the warm cloth over Pedro’s sweat dampened face, along his neck and over his chest and stomach, gently washing him clean.

“You look tired, love. Here,” Oscar says, passing him a bottle. “I love you so much, mi tigre. I don’t know how I lived before you.”

“I love you too, mi gatito. Sometimes, when I’m lying in your arms, I can’t imagine the world before you.”

"Happy anniversary, darling," Oscar whispers softly, as he brushes his lips against Pedro's with an innocent tenderness, yet beneath lies a subtle current of desire, a longing that speaks volumes in its restraint. They fall asleep, limbs entwined, to the soft sounds of the ocean.

Over the course of the next three days, they spend several hours in the playroom, trying out new toys and furniture. Oscar takes mental notes of what devices Pedro does, and does not, respond to. He also makes sure to keep the toys in the playroom, so Pedro has a safe space if he gets overwhelmed. And he does get overwhelmed a few times, ending one particularly intense session by saying ‘nova.’ That night, their final night in the cove, they make love on the upper deck, under the stars.

#a series of firsts #asof #latino space sisters #p&o #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #space sisters

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idwsonicmegareview · 6 months ago

Text

For Dr. Eggman's next trick, zombie robots! – Volume 4: Infection (#13-16)

Sonic and friends likely believed they had finally neutralized every threat to their world. Neo Metal Sonic was defeated in the Battle for Angel Island and de-weaponized, and with Dr. Eggman suffering from amnesia (to everyone else's benefit) there would be nobody to restore Metal to his homicidal potential.

What they didn't know is that an evil platypus, Dr. Starline, with Metal's help, managed to restore Mr. Tinker to his evil genius self! Eggman is back and he's looking to unleash his greatest weapon to date.

Story

A mysterious letter appears on Tails' desk proclaiming that the world's greatest evil doctor is back! He runs to get Sonic, who doesn't want to believe the worst, or rather doesn't want to believe that Eggman tricked him with this amnesia business. The duo rush to Windmill Village, where they left to doctor in peace.

When they arrive, they see the town is being attacked by none other than Rough and Tumble, the bafoons Sonic and Knuckles had taken out back in volume 1.

They easily take down the mooks but before they can question them, a wormhole opens up right beneath the skunks and they escape. The village elder informs Sonic and Tails that Rough and Tumble were the ones to kidnap Mr. Tinker, much to Sonic's relief.

Next, Sonic and Silver chase a lead and investigate an old Eggman base in the snowy mountains. There, they encounter Starline and Metal Sonic. The combination of Sonic's speed and Silver's psychokinesis make short work of the two, but Starline gets the last laugh. He gives Silver what he thinks is the combination to a vault inside the base, but it's really the detonator code for explosives. Sonic rushes to save Silver and gets caught in the same blast.

Dr. Eggman reacts in a rage, strangling Dr. Starline for having the audacity to try and kill his lifelong adversary in the "wrong way." Fortunate for Starline, Sonic and Silver survived the blast but Silver is still injured.

Finally, Sonic and Amy infiltrate another abandoned Eggman base to try and hack into the Eggnet and see what the doctor is planning. While they are able to get schematics to a new airship that resembles the face of the Space Colony ARK but with some mention of "payload distribution", they're unfortunately interrupted by Rough and Tumble armed with a tank!

The pair quickly outfox the skunks, leading them to use the backpack gadgets Eggman gave them, which fully drench them in Metal Virus, instantly turning them into zombie robots!

Sonic and Amy manage to drop the pair into a mineshaft where they won't be able to harm anyone else, but unfortunately Sonic is infected with the Metal Virus. He runs to Tails, who analyzes the infection. It appears at first that Sonic's speed put the infection into remission on his way to Tails, but we soon see that it returns after a period of rest.

Meanwhile, we see Eggman's process of developing the virus, mass producing it, and preparing to drop the metal goop onto the town that took him in when he had amnesia. No good deed goes unpunished, after all.

The zombie robots, or Zombots, spread out across the land to spread the virus and we see one infected flicky bird make its way to a large city...

Presentation

Writing

There are so many little gems of comedy in this volume. Ian Flynn is a master of writing these characters and he finds fun ways of having them interact like friends, coworkers, or even enemies.

I felt like the repeated introduction of the term Zombots was unnecessary but I did appreciate wrapping it into a joke at one point where Tails rolls his eyes at Sonic's coining this term. On the one hand, it's lamp shading how lame this really is, on the other it comes across like how real boys roast each other as friends.

The Rough and Tumble rhyming joke makes multiple appearances in this one. Sonic and Tails get in on it just to irritate them and then later the skunks even bicker with each other for using a slant rhyme. They have a professional reputation to uphold, of course.

World Building

These issues also had the job of explaining the Metal Virus to readers so that they will understand the stakes going forward. Considering this will be the story arc for the next several volumes, it's important to have this stuff laid out upfront.

What we know so far is

Full saturation with the Metal Virus liquid instantly transforms plants and animals into machines

Contact spreads the virus

Repeated exposure speeds up infection

The zombots show aggression and move to spread infection without being told to do so

We also get some good bits here showing Eggman's mindset at the villain. He doesn't just want to kill Sonic, he wants to completely beat him. He tells Starline that he could easily carpet bomb him any day, but he has to prove something by defeating Sonic by outsmarting him. This actually does a lot to explain Eggman's repeated failures in the past by showing that Sonic has been outmaneuvering him, not outsmarting him necessarily.

There's also some more nods to the war from Sonic Forces. Sonic and Amy infiltrate an old mine Eggman was operating during the war which was a major battle for the Resistance. Amy has to fill Sonic in on what happened here because he was still imprisoned on the Death Egg when this battle took place. This is a lot more connective tissue than we usually get between Sonic stories and it shows that there are lingering effects on Sonic's world from this war, even if it's just an abandoned mine in this case.

Characters

Our established characters get a lot of material here, of course, but we do see reappearances from nearly all of our new characters as well. Most of them need the love to cement them as either new members of Sonic's crew or to give the illusion of population in Sonic's world.

Tangle makes a brief but comedic appearance in issue 16, which reminds the audience how endearing and charismatic she is, but ultimately comes across as an excuse to advertise her spin-off comic. While Whisper isn't mentioned or seen in this volume, she's implied through the allusion to the Tangle and Whisper comic.

Rough and Tumble make appearances in two out of four issues this time around and it's starting to feel like they're the only banditos in the whole world, in which case maybe they should be thrown in jail and kept there to eliminate crime on Sonic's world.

We get a lot more of Dr. Starline in this and we're starting to see that he's actually not a villain in his own right, he's just an Eggman fanboy. However, it's interesting to see the cracks setting in when it comes to his worship of the good doctor. Starline, understandably, is shocked at Eggman's reckless lack of testing the Metal Virus before unleashing it on the world. After five brief tests, he's ready to dump the goo all over the world and we have no idea how it might turn out!

While I do think it's a total Eggman move for him to attack Windmill Village first since they are the ones who took him in after the war, it's another scene that makes Sonic's world feel really small. Like this is the only village in the world for him to attack. Hopefully with some more time and pages the IDW crew will be able to expand the setting further.

The Verdict

Going into "Infection", I was worried it'd be all setup and no payoff because the Metal Virus arc is so long and has a lot of moving pieces. While there is a lot of setup in these four issues, there was also plenty of action, character writing, and colorful pages for kids to enjoy. I didn't feel like we were spinning the wheels; the story has forward momentum even coming off the heels of the Battle for Angel Island. Maybe having the 2019 Annual sandwiched between gave us the only sigh or relief the story needed.

Next time, we'll be reading the Tangle and Whisper miniseries, which takes place at the same time as what we just read. I'm sorry this part came out so far behind schedule but you know how life comes at you fast sometimes!

Check back on Tuesday, May 28 for Tangle and Whisper!

#idw sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic comics #miles tails prower #tangle the lemur #rough and tumble #amy rose

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sketchy-rosewitch · 1 year ago

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Enantiodromia: Murph Connors x afab!gn!reader

Part 3

Warnings: age gap, weed, allusions to past abuse, mentions of foster care, juvy, homelessness (just assume that for the rest of these), Nick O’Brien, Nick O’Brien being an ass,

A/N: When I wrote the last part I wanted cookies and when I’m posting this I have had my cookies. Love you guys :)

Part 2

Part 1

BvH Masterlist

Taggies: @bosinclairz @blurrymango @visceravalentines

Murph Connors. Something was and currently is bothering you about him. Especially this past week. Every time he comes home you’re like some dog who’s been left alone for too long.

Your heart feels like it goes faster and almost aches when you talk to him. You’d get like this with Kennedy and Quinn, except with them, you begged for the attention and you didn’t get flustered when they gave it to you. You felt more than flustered when it came to Murph. So much you swear you acted foolishly around him on more than one occasion, not only that but when you’d look back on how your day with him went you noticed you touched him a lot more. Hugs, high fives, fist bumps, and arm grabs galore.

You were falling in love and you didn’t know where this rabbit hole ended.

You sigh and lean against the couch in the loft. Setting down your controller you stare at the fatality screen.

You had been trying to figure out all of your character combos for Mileena and of course thinking about Murph was distracting you.

The man was supposed to be back an hour ago. Today was when Kennedy and Quinn were supposed to get arrested and everything would be normal. You’d be able to live without the fear of getting killed just by being in Murph’s front yard.

The front door unlocks, you quickly make your way down the stairs and to Murph. You can’t read his facial expressions but you know he isn’t happy. You wait for him to speak.

“We waited by the bank you told us to. In fact we had officers at all the different banks just in case you got it wrong and no Kennedy or Quinn.” He scowls down at you. Your heart drops at Murph’s next words. “Are you covering for them?” His voice lowers, you feel his index finger poke your chest. It feels like a bullet of betrayal going through you.

You shake your head at his accusation. “No. I told you what happened with me and them. How I lived. They don’t care about me. I have no reason to protect them and even if I did, I have no way of contacting them. They…” You go quiet and think about who they are, what they would actually do. You were their driver. Unlike anyone they’d ever met. They knew you’d always get them away from police.

“They’re looking for someone else! They told me they spent years trying to find someone like me. I don’t think it’ll take them that long again, they’ll be looking for someone close to my skill set though.” You explain, Murph steps back from you and nods, confirming he understands what you’re getting at.

“Okay, Nick needs to see you tomorrow about all this, you’ll come with me. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but Nick’s been driving everyone batshit crazy all day trying to look for answers.”

“Man I’m really sorry, if I knew anymore information I’d tell you. I want them gone as much as you guys do, maybe even more.”

Murph walks towards the kitchen and you follow behind him. “It’s okay, did you eat tonight?”

“Yeah, ate the leftover pasta. Did you eat?”

Murph nods his head and opens the fridge pulling out a beer. You two walk over to the living room couch. He relaxes and takes a sip of his beer, his arms spread across the top of the cushions. “What’d you do all day?” Murph asks, you’re on the other side of the couch sitting awkward yet comfortably towards Murph.

“Played Mortal Kombat.”

He snorts and takes another sip from his bottle. “You wanna beat me that bad huh?” He jokes and nudges your knee playfully. Your chest tightens and you look down at your lap.

“Yes! I do!” You frown at him. “Even played on hard difficulty and everything. Just for me to get my ass kicked by a computer and not learn anything.” You grumble. Murph lets out laugh. “You didn’t rage quit right?”

You smile up at him then look back in your lap.

“Nah, I didn’t.”

“It’s nice to be able to play some of those old games again. They’ve kinda been sitting around collecting dust for the past few years. I got a problem with getting rid of them through. Nostalgia and all that, But uh- when you move out if you wanna take some you’re more than welcome to.” Murph says, your eyes light up at his gift but your heart sinks at the thought of moving out. Even though it won’t be any time soon you’ll still hate leaving him.

Honestly you wonder if you two will talk after you move out. He probably thinks you’re too immature and young, why would he want to continue talking to someone like you when you don’t exactly bring much to the table?

“Really?!” You fake smile, he smiles at you too and chuckles.

“Yeah, want you to have fun, it won’t be fun having an air mattress and a tv but no videos games. Trust me I’ve been there.”

“They had video games in the 60’s?” The joke comes out before you process it and Murph looks at you with a brow raised.

“You know, you’re a real piece of shit to the person feeds you every day.” Murph leans over and pushes your shoulder. You gasp and put your hand in your chest in fake offense. You move your legs so they’re under you and move back over, pushing him back a little harder. The older man laughs.

“Come on now, I got my beer in my hand!” He continues laughing and pushes you again, you start laughing too. Murph takes another sip and sets the beer on the coffee table. You make one final push, more rough than you intended and Murph shakes his head. His huge hands grab you and throw you over his shoulder.

“Murph!” You wiggle and attempt to poke at him, smacking at his back. The man doesn’t budge.

Both of your laughs mix into the air, he carries you up the stairs and turns towards your room, then tosses you onto your bed.

His fingers dig playfully into your sides.

“N-OH! God-damnit! Haha!” Your face is scrunched up, lungs fighting to fill with air. He’s laughing too as you attempt to break free and breathe. You move your fingers below his shirt and dig into his rib cage.

“Agh! Damnit!”

He pants and falls next to you in the bed. The two of your catch your breathes, and let out small laughs until your adrenaline wears down.

After a few minutes your smile drops and your eyes glimpse over at Murph, his eyes are closed. You want him to fall asleep here with you.

You turn your head staring at his facial features. It’s hard not to touch him.

His hair is grey, only small bits of sandy blond come from different parts of it. The smile you had before comes back to your face, except it’s a sad one now. He’s so handsome up close you’d do anything for you two to stay this way.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at him, memorizing every wrinkle and mole on his face until he starts snoring softly. It startles you slightly and you turn away from him, still feeling his presence you imagine just for a moment you two are a couple.

The halls of the sheriff’s department are small yet echoey. You walk in silence with your hands in your pockets.

Anxiety tugs onto you, trying to drag you into the dark.

You didn’t want to talk to O’Brien. You couldn’t say that to Murph though, because they were just “doing their job.” You were afraid, honestly even embarrassed. You didn’t think you’d ever have to worry about these men again, it’s why you acted the way you did that night. Now you’re about to be in front of them, or at least one of them, hopefully just one of them, just so they can get answers that you already provided to Murph.

Speaking of. You didn’t talk about what happened last night to him. You got up before him stared at him for a solid minute then fell back asleep, next time you woke up he was gone. You didn’t expect anything more from him but some part of you was hurting for confrontation. But maybe there wasn’t anything more to it, just messing around with each other and Murph being tired from his job.

Murph and you turn and end up in a room with four other men, all sitting at their desks casually chatting away. Nick is the first to notice the two of you.

“Oh perfect, brought the chihuahua back.”

You squint your eyes and make a snarl face at the brown haired man. Murph elbows you lightly and you drop your face.

“And you’re training them.”

You roll your eyes at Nick’s shitty joke, you’re about to open your mouth and say something but Murph interjects into the conversation.

“Yeah, figured you’d wanna hear everything from them.” He walks over to his desk and like a dog you follow him, he sets his keys on the it and his coffee cup next to them, then turns around and you’re face to chest with him. He looks down. “Go on and follow him to the interrogation room.” Murph smiles and your chest tightens, you don’t wanna leave him even if it’s only for a few minutes.

“Can’t it just be done out here?” Your demeanor has completely changed and you wanna hit yourself for looking weak right now especially in front of a bunch of cops.

“O’Brien wants you alone. It’ll only take a few minutes kiddo.”

You nod your head knowing you won’t get a compromise and turn around to follow O’Brien.

You hate the way this man swaggers around. Like he owns the place. Yeah maybe he did maybe he is the leader of these men. But goddamnit he’s also arrogant and an asshole. You just wanna punch him a few times, teach him some shit about what happens to men who carry themselves like they’re owed something.

The interrogation room is small and nothing like the tv shows. You feel like it’s smaller than when you went in at 16 but that could just be because you’re an adult now.

You sit down and O’Brien sits in a chair on the opposite side of the table. He’s relaxed and you should be too. You’ll tell him everything and this’ll be all over.

“Tell me everything.”

You can’t help yourself, you smirk. “Well it all started when I was 5, my parents-“

“Don’t play games with me.”

“Fine, Kennedy and Quinn, they’re looking for someone else. A fast driver, someone like me. I’m thinking two or three weeks at most. I also recommend this time you don’t kidnap the driver. That was a dumbass move on your part if you wanted to catch them. I recommend looking for Lawrence Washington. He doesn’t do any of the dirty work but he knows everything. That’s all I know.”

“Wait here.”

Nick gets up and walks out of the room. You tap your fingers on the metal table boredly. Nick comes back in a few minutes later.

“I feel like you’re not telling me everything.”

You raise a brow at him. “I don’t have a goddamn reason not to O’Brien. Last time I checked I don’t wanna be choked by a no good, goddamn, dirty fucking cop like you.” You seethe, your hands are quickly during into fists as you go into defense mode.

“Well then tell me. Are you covering for Kennedy and Quinn’s asses? You give us a false date?” His voice raises, anxiety rises slowly throughout your body.

“What fucking reason do I have to lie to you?! No I’m not covering for them! I told you exactly why they moved the date! They. Don’t. Have. Me.” You stand up attempting to leave, instead O’Brien grabs your throat and shoves you against a wall.

“Tell me when they’re planning on robbing a bank and I’ll let you go. Tell me!”

Tears well in your eyes as oxygen leaves your lungs. A week ago you claimed you weren’t afraid to die. Now you are dying and you’re scared. So fucking scared.

“Don’t-“ you gasp, trying to get some type of air in your lungs. “Know!” A cry escapes and Nick lets go of you. Afraid of being vulnerable you escape the interrogation room and run back into the office space where Nick’s team is.

“Woah hey.” Murph looks concerned, he tries walking over to you but you speed past him and without thinking grab his car keys and bolt out the door.

Murph yells for you and almost chases after you until Nick walks in. “The hell did you do?” Murph glares and walks up to him.

“Didn’t do shit! They aren’t telling us everything and I know it!”

Murph crosses his arms. “They told you everything they know.”

“How the fuck do you know?”

“They told me everything last night Nick!”

“That doesn’t mean jackshit, they’re probably using you.” Nick glares up at Murph and Murph huffs.

“They don’t have anything Nick. They have nothing to gain or lose. They have no reason to use anyone. They don’t have any benefits keeping shit from us. They told us what they know and I’m not bringing them back here after this.” He explains, finally the two back off. Murph sighs and furrows his brows, wiping his beard. “What’d you say to them?”

“Didn’t say shit.”

“Fine. What’d you do to them?” Murph rewords his question. His jaw clenches.

“Same shit we always do Murph. Not gonna treat them any different just because you took a liking to them.”

Murph’s fist balls up and he lunges at Nick, bringing the smaller man to the ground. His fist collides with O’Brien’s face.

“Murph!” Henderson yells.

Before he knows it, Murph is being dragged off of Nick.

“Fucker! I told you not to touch them goddamnit! You do it again and I’ll kill you!” The taller man’s face is absolutely red with anger. Nick wipes his nose, his teeth grinding against each other.

“It’s a part of the job Murph. You don’t like it you go play cop somewhere else!”

Murph pants and pushes Henderson off of him.

“I ask for one exception. You knew that wouldn’t get answers out of them, I knew it too or else they wouldn’t have willingly looked me in the eyes and told me everything without breaking a sweat. I’ll be back tomorrow, you better have your shit together cause I know I’ll have mine.” Murph growls, he turns around and storms out of the Sheriff’s Department. He pulls out his phone and looks at the tracker on his car. You didn’t go far.

The sun is hot on Murph’s skin but he ignores it as he walks across the roof of an empty parking garage. Only his truck sits on top, you’re relaxing in the bed of it, looking over the skyline. He takes a moment, appreciating how you look in the sun and he smiles, calmly walking over to you he pulls out snacks and drinks from his hoodie pocket and hops into the bed of the truck.

“I prefer the view at night. Looks a lot better with all the lights and stuff on.” You comment. The older man sits down next to you.

“Yeah guess you can’t choose when someone will be a dick to you.” Murph replies, you give a tight lipped smile and grab the coke bottle from him, opening it you chug some.

“Guess not, anything happen after I left?”

“I punched Nick.”

You snort, your face brightening up just a little more. You grab one of the small packages of oreos and snack on them.

“I had told him how to talk to you. He didn’t listen to me and it pissed me off. If I knew he wouldn’t have listened, I wouldn’t have brought you there.”

“That’s nice of you to say Murph.” You look at a couple of the buildings and sigh contently. “That warehouse over there.” You point and the gray haired man follows your finger. “That’s where I used to live. It’s where they plan everything, they hide everything there too. Anything they’ve stolen is there. I used to come up here after a bad day, when they’d be bigger assholes than usual, so I could breathe but also so I could watch, ya know for police and stuff.” You explain, Murph nods and crosses his arms.

“Bigger assholes than usual?”

“Yeah ya know… choking, hitting, throwing stuff at me. A good day was just the verbal degradation.”

Murph stays quiet, it’s awkward to him but not to you. You stuff the empty oreo packet in your pants and without thinking lean on him. “You know what would’ve been great right now?”

The older man hums for you to continue.

“A joint.”

Murph lets out a laugh.

“I’m serious! I haven’t smoked in a minute. Come on!” You sit up and look at him. His crows feet visible even from under his sunglasses. He shakes his head in disbelief at you.

“Fine.”

“Hell fucking yeah!”

The loft is smokey as the two of you play pool together.

You take your stick and pull it back. It hits the white ball, causing it to bounce across the table just grazing the orange ball you wanted to hit.

“Quit doin’ that! You’re gonna fuck up my table!” Murph complains as he takes another hit. He passes the joint to you. You giggle.

“It’s not my fault man.. ball just does what it wants!” You cough, Murph hits a blue ball in. You suck in again and cough.

“Don’t know how to play pool, don’t know how to smoke. What am I gonna do with you?” Murph chuckles and ashes the joint.

You shrug in the middle of your coughing fit. Murph rubs your back and you finally calm down.

Your glassy eyes look into his and you smile lazily.

“I know how to smoke I just haven’t I got a bit excited. Now pool, you’re gonna have to teach me how to not skip the ball.” You explain, your words feel loose in your mouth, Murph smiles.

“Will do.”

He sets down his stick and the two of you walk over to the white ball.

“Lean down like you’re about to hit the ball.”

You do just that, Murph looks around at you before leaning over. His body on top of yours causing you to lose focus. You hear him talking but your brain is fuzzy.

“Can you say that again.” You notice his hand on yours and the air in your lungs escape.

“You see how I have your fingers, makes it so the pool cue is lined right towards the middle of the ball. Now I know it hurts but you get used to it.” Murph stands up and casually smacks your ass. “Now try it!”

Your hands shake, but you manage to not skip the ball, hitting a green on into the hole. You stand up and look at the man smiling dumbly at him.

“Good job!” He grabs your shoulder and rubs it comfortably then goes and takes his turn.

The smile doesn’t leave your face as you two continue to play throughout the night at the end of it both of you are on the couch this time smoking from his bowl and watching a shitty early 2000’s movie. Except you aren’t watching the movie you instead are staring at Murph, in the same position you two were in last night except you’re on a different couch and you’re on the right this time and he’s on the left.

“I lied.” You say, breaking the silence between you and your roommate. He looks over at you with his head tilted. “I’ve never smoked before.”

“Well I knew that. Bet you would’ve smoked my shit last week, without even telling me first if you had smoked. Also you get inhaling too much. I personally was just letting you do that shit cause it was funnier seeing you suffer.” Murph smiles, you let out a sigh and change your position so you’re leaning on him like you were in the truck.

“I love this movie. What is it?”

“102 Dalmatians.”

“It’s so good. Can’t get over the bird.”

Murph snorts and leans his head on yours.

“Cannn we make some cookies?” You ask, Murph hums.

“Yeah, I want some cookies.” He gets up and grabs your hand hauling you to your feet, then he hurries and drags you down the stairs to the fridge, getting out the chocolate chip cookie dough. Murph let’s go of your hand and turns on the oven. He then grabs a baking sheet and knife cutting pieces of dough onto it.

Your eyes focus in on the hand that was holding yours and you smile at it, thinking about him holding it again.

The oven beeps and Murph puts the cookies into it, shuts it and starts the timer.

You hold out your hand again and Murph takes it. You decide you want to sit on the floor and you do that, pulling the older man down with you, he groans like an old man, making you laugh.

“We should go to the beach tomorrow night.”

“We should.. I love the beach. Please tell me you’ve been before.” Murph looks at you with the sweetest eyes you’ve seen.

“Yeah I’ve been. I think it’ll be better with you there though. Especially at night cause then no one will be there!”

“You planning on killing me?” Murph jokes, your brows raise.

“Not at all! If I was though, your house would be in great hands!” You quip, Murph shakes head and laughs.

“Who said you were in my will?”

“Who else would be?” You retort, you look down to him playing with your fingers.

“My parents, my cousins, my friends.”

“Well I’m your friend!”

Murph nods. “Yeah, you are. I guess I should write you in then.”

“Hell yeah!” You raise your other hand and smack his chest instead of one of his occupied hands. The timer goes off and Murph lets go to get the cookies out.

He makes both of you wait a few minutes to cook off before handing you a few and grabbing some himself.

The two of you sit in silence for the rest of the night, it’s not an awkward one. Just being in each others presence, it was all you needed right now, it was all you needed ever. Just comfortably being next to Murph.

#murph connors vibes #murph connors x reader #murph connors #bo sinclair

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littlemuoi · 11 months ago

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The Queen of mischief: A wicked talent for impressions, why she calls herself Miss Piggy and how Her Majesty loves it when a titled lady starts swearing by Richard Kay & Geoffrey Levy (March 17th 2016)

ARCHIVE LINK

As the Queen climbed into the open carriage for a birthday drive through the streets of Windsor, there on the seat lay a bouquet of flowers and beside it a birthday card in an envelope.

First, she smelled the flowers. Then, as she settled back on the cushioned seat, she opened the envelope and looked at the card — and burst into peals of laughter.

The card, which was signed by all the staff in the Royal Mews at Buckingham Palace, where the royal carriages and horses are kept, depicted Miss Piggy, the Muppet character.

‘I thought, “Well, she can’t sack us all,” ’ says coachman Alfred Oates, now 76, who was with the Queen for 57 years. ‘But there she was, as the crowds could see, laughing the whole way round.’

It was the Queen’s 60th birthday and the crowds didn’t know of the in-joke that had existed between the Queen and her staff since the wedding of Charles and Diana five years earlier.

It was at an after-wedding party watching video highlights that the Queen, Martini in hand, called to her husband: ‘Oh Philip, do look! I’ve got my Miss Piggy face on.’

It wasn’t long before what had been an intimate — and quite inexplicable — family joke had spread throughout the staff.

Even Princess Diana took to referring affectionately to her mother-in-law as ‘Miss Piggy’.

Almost 30 years after that Miss Piggy carriage drive, and with her 90th birthday approaching next month, laughter is as important as ever to the Queen.

But astonishingly, as she enters her tenth decade, the sober side of her ‘job’ remains as important to her today as it did when she first received those red boxes of government papers 64 years ago.

Indeed, she reads them as studiously as ever, still spending at least an hour a day going through them and noting her observations.

As Sir John Major, the ninth of the 12 prime ministers to serve her during her reign, tells us: ‘Remarkable, yes. But surprising, no. For the Queen is an assiduous guardian of the interests of this nation — and those of the Commonwealth.’

She has been seeing government papers since the final weeks of Clement Attlee’s post-war Labour administration in 1951. Because of her father George VI’s worsening health — a heavy smoker, he died of lung cancer aged 56 in 1952 — she was allowed to see Foreign Office telegrams while he was still alive.

Since then her deep interest and involvement in what her government is doing, and what is happening in the country, has never slackened, even at the weekends. As Sir John observes: ‘It is extremely important to her, personally, that she is kept informed about how policies will affect her people.’

In all these years of hardly putting a foot wrong she has done so just twice, according to her former Private Secretary, Sir William Heseltine.

The first concerned the Aberfan disaster in 1966, when a slag heap in the Welsh mining village near Merthyr Tydfil slid on to a school, killing 116 children and 28 adults. Her initial thoughts were not to go there.

‘Her attitude was highly principled: “If I go down, people who are digging children out of the mud will have to stop and talk to me,” ’ says Sir William. ‘But in the country there was strong feeling that the tragedy needed her healing presence.’

It was eight days before she went and, he says, ‘the fact that she was there healed whatever wound there might have been, but it was late. She shed tears down there. Who wouldn’t have done’.

This delay in visiting the South Wales village has remained, perhaps, the Queen’s greatest regret.

The second time, which Sir William believes the Queen accepts as an error, was failing to have the flag above Buckingham Palace lowered on the death of Princess Diana, which we revealed earlier in this series.

But the two episodes haven’t changed Sir William’s admiration for the Queen’s seven-day work ethic.

As he recalls: ‘On Friday afternoons when Whitehall was clearing its desks there was always a lot of paper that required a decision of some sort by the Queen. She dealt with it on Saturday nights or Sunday. The (red) boxes were always in Whitehall by Monday lunchtime.’

This is a ritual that Philip has had to come to terms with, for even now, if they are together when the government boxes arrive, she gives up whatever they are doing and goes off to deal with them.

‘He found this so hard to handle in the early days, but he looks at her with a certain admiration now,’ says an aide.

One of the Queen’s former ladies-in-waiting, Jean Woodroffe, 93, goes further. ‘I think their relationship has evolved,’ she says. ‘Prince Philip is much kinder than he used to be. I mean, he was never unkind, but he’s more protective of her.’

The Queen often leans on him when surrounded by people who are strangers for, surprisingly, she is ‘shy by nature’, says a former senior courtier.

Distinguished artist Michael Noakes, who has painted her several times and knows her well, explains: ‘Sometimes she has to rather gather herself together before she can quite face going into a room where everyone will be looking at her.

‘When Prince Philip sees that happening he takes over, in a subtle way, and makes sure everything is OK. He says he can make people laugh within 15 seconds.’

But he can also be ‘cantankerous with people, and occasionally around the Queen’, says a former senior aide, adding: ‘What people don’t realise is that for the past 20 years he has suffered from acute arthritis, which can be very painful.’

Sir Nicholas Soames, former Tory minister and grandson of Sir Winston Churchill, says: ‘Prince Philip is a product of his age, of a wartime generation that doesn’t whine and whinge like today’s generation do about everything.’

The Queen’s reciprocal support for Philip — they celebrate their platinum wedding (70 years) next year — is when he is carriage driving.

Stephen Matthews, 63, former head coachman at the Royal Mews, says the happiest he has seen her is when she is watching Philip controlling a carriage-and-four in a competition.

‘She’ll see him going through one hazard and then race in her Land Rover to get to the next obstacle in time to see him take that,’ he says. ‘She gets very excited when he’s doing well.’

Philip’s admiration for his wife was once based fundamentally on her orderly mind and devotion to her duties. But something has changed in their relationship over the years. ‘Once she always laughed at his humour,’ says a former equerry. ‘He now laughs at hers.’

Indeed, friends have noticed that something of his mischievous humour has rubbed off on to her. Not his salty brand of naval wit and throwaway observations that have caused insult in places as far apart as China (‘slitty eyes’) and Hungary (‘pot bellies’). That’s not the Queen at all.

Irreverent impressions are her forte and she has had the Prince in stitches. There was the time a North Country mayor was introduced to the Queen and insisted on complimenting her by telling her how much prettier she was in the flesh than in her pictures.

‘Later that day the Queen did an impression of the poor man telling her this in a northern accent, which had everyone holding their sides — including Philip,’ says a retired courtier. ‘She wasn’t mocking him, just having fun.’

Michael Noakes was at Buckingham Palace painting the Queen for the City of Manchester in her Order of the Bath robes, and for the best light effect he had her standing near a window in the Yellow Drawing Room.

As he recalls: ‘She was peering out of the window and keeping up a running commentary of people’s reactions to seeing her standing there — “ ‘Gee Maud (in an American accent) it can’t be’ . . . oh no, he’s decided it can’t be, he’s moved on now’ and that sort of thing, and “Ooh, a car has just been hit by a taxi, I think there’s going to be a fight now”. She is very funny.’

Sir Antony Jay, co-author of Yes Minister and Yes, Prime Minister, who also wrote the script of the ground-breaking 1969 television documentary Royal Family, recalls finding the Queen to be not as he expected when he sat next to her at a lunch.

‘She’d just had her portrait painted and was rather acid about the artist rather than the portrait,’ he says. ‘She was confident and opinionated in a way you would never see in public.’

After the success of Yes Minister, he and the Queen’s former Private Secretary Sir William Heseltine, a close friend, hatched a plot for a Yes Ma’am tv series, but Sir William assures us: ‘It was just a private joke.’

A pity — because the Queen’s wit can be deliciously dry. Coachman Colin Henderson, 69, was with the Queen at the Royal Windsor Horse Show when one of her grandchildren came up to her in the Royal Box. He recalls: ‘The Queen said: “Did you have a good lunch?” and the child replied: “Yes, granny.” To which the Queen said: “I thought so — you’ve got it all down your front.” ’

One running joke involved Audrey Dellow, the organist for 40 years in the Royal Chapel at Windsor who, according to Canon John Ovenden, Chaplain to the Queen at Windsor for 14 years until 2012, competed with Her Majesty every Sunday over who was wearing the best hat.

‘She could see the Queen in her mirror because the organ was almost opposite the royal pew,’ says Canon Ovenden. ‘Everyone was in on the joke — the Queen has an impish sense of humour.’

Going to church remains a key element of her life. The strength of her faith first emerged when her grandfather George V, who doted on his granddaughter Lilibet, was nearing death in 1936 and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cosmo Lang, took her for a walk.

‘Please do not tell me anything more about God,’ the little girl, not yet ten, counselled the Archbishop. ‘I know all about Him already.’

This faith is familiar to Canon Ovenden. He recalls occasions when she has touched down at Heathrow after a foreign tour at 5am on a Sunday morning — ‘but blow me down, there she is in church for matins.’

One thing that makes her laugh out loud is when things go wrong in church. Canon Ovenden recalls a Sunday service when he called out the first hymn and the organist struck up the wrong tune.

‘I had to say “Stop!, start again,” and the Queen loved it.’

She also laughs out loud when one of her great friends, a titled lady who in recent times has sadly suffered from the neurological condition Tourette’s syndrome, uses language more associated with the saloon bar on a Friday night. In the middle of a conversation with the Queen, she is prone to suddenly blurting out: ‘Oh, do **** off, Lilibet.’

When the Queen first told former naval officer Philip about it over supper, he loved it. Surprisingly, they don’t have all that many suppers together. Neither travels as much as they once did, of course, but both continue to carry out many official engagements and don’t meet up very often for meals.

The Queen, like millions of other people, is fond of having supper on a tray in front of the television. (She made a point of watching the Downton Abbey Christmas Special while at Sandringham.)

She will have ordered her supper earlier with a tick from a choice of three main courses — no starters — on a leather-bound menu embossed in gold.

One of her favourites from childhood, always on the menu, is Gaelic steak — a filet steak cut into strips with a whisky and mushroom cream sauce.

She is not much of a pudding eater, and neither is Philip. At lunchtime, the Queen prefers cheese and in the evening fruit to finish. A favourite of them both is savoury souffle. When they do eat together they follow an old palace tradition of the menu on the table being written in French.

Before they dine, they like to have a drink. The Queen’s evening favourite is a ‘very dry’ dry Martini, made from gin straight out of the freezer with the merest dribble of Vermouth. Says an aide: ‘Sometimes people have forgotten to put the Vermouth in and she doesn’t notice.’

For his part, Philip will have a whisky and water or a Bacardi and tomato juice. They rarely drink wine or champagne, except for toasts.

Former Palace chef Darren McGrady, who also worked for Princess Diana, says that one thing the Queen has never made a fuss of is her birthday. ‘She is often alone for tea on the day,’ he says. ‘But in the Palace kitchens, we would never forget it.’ This year, as ever, they will make her the special 12in chocolate ganache birthday cake, using the same recipe (see above) created in the 19th century for Queen Victoria by her Swiss masterchef Gabriel Tschumi, who also worked for Edward VII and George V.

It is always piped simply ‘Happy Birthday’ in white royal icing. Nothing more — and definitely no candles. If the Queen is by herself, a small slice is cut for her.

On every other day of the year she has scones for tea, one day plain, the next fruit, and small, rectangular sandwiches, the bread cut exactly a quarter of an inch thick and the crust removed.

An enduring teatime favourite that goes back to her childhood with Princess Margaret are ‘jam pennies’: seedless raspberry jam sandwiches stamped out about the size of an old penny.

She also likes the cucumber in her sandwiches to be cut lengthwise to avoid the pips in the soft centre. The waste-nothing Queen has the skins sent down to the cellars as garnish for Pimm’s.

Some around the palace insist the Queen’s interest in her food is rather less than her interest in the food she gives her corgis. Nothing is allowed to come between her and their mealtimes.

Even the ancient routine of the Garter ceremony at Windsor has been interrupted for her to feed them, on one occasion removing her blue velvet robe to reveal the long white gown with a blue sash, plumed hat and white gloves, as she put out the food into five bowls on a small side table.

What followed proved what the Marquess of Salisbury says, that the Queen ‘is the most remarkable controller of dogs . . . she is a genius for it’.

‘One of the dogs was having fish, another meat, one had this special powder to take, another a pill that she had to crush — she knew precisely what to give each one, and still in her Garter finery,’ recalls a footman.

‘The dogs sat in a semi-circle at her feet and waited with remark-able patience. Finally, she put the bowls — they’re all old silver and porcelain dishes — down on the floor and still they didn’t move, like soldiers waiting for a command. And then she said “Eat, feed” and they did. Only then did she go through for tea with the knights, who were waiting for her.’

So, as we have seen, the Queen can be a completely different person away from Palace formality. Petty Officer William Evans remembers a shooting party at Balmoral where he was assisting Earl Mountbatten when the Queen drove up in her Land Rover with a box of hot baked potatoes wrapped in tin foil in the back.

‘Who wants a hot potato?’ she yelled, opening the boot.

Says Evans: ‘I put up my hand and she tossed one straight at me from at least 20 ft.

‘And suddenly the air was thick with hot potatoes as she threw them around, including one to a grinning Prince Philip. It all seemed so natural. The look he gave her said so much.’

Inevitably, people wonder just how she would cope if she lost Philip, who will be 95 in June.

Says her cousin and lifelong friend Margaret Rhodes: ‘I don’t know how much she would do a Queen Victoria and sit in the background while she was getting over it. She would never consider stepping down.

‘I remember someone once repeating my words, saying that she wasn’t going to abdicate. When I next saw the Queen, she said to me: “You should have said, ‘She would want to go on being Queen unless she had Alzheimer’s or suffered a stroke.’ ” ’

Her 90th birthday may be only weeks away, but this extraordinary woman is as indefatigable — and resolutely dedicated to her duty — as ever.

#brf #royal anecdote #wait here while im gonna go and cry in the corner #i miss her a lot #queen elizabeth ii #prince philip #duke of edinburgh

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