#technically not an ask but i’m classifying this inspiration as such since it’s Close Enough; spiritually

[dailyhatsune]

miku devouring her gingerbread son

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 18/?)

Chapter 18: Heartbeat

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • more coming soon

Author's Notes: This chapter was inspired by this amazing mechanical heartbeat created by androidsacutemess on tumblr.

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

In engineering school, the very first thing you learned, and the most important part of your studies, was about thirium. Androids had very advanced AI; but, you didn't go to school to be a programmer. While their AI was as important as their components, it was no secret that the discovery of thirium is what allowed androids to be so highly functioning and blend in almost seamlessly with humans.

'Blue blood', as it was often referred to, did behave very similarly to human blood. While blood carried oxygen through the body, thirium carried electricity throughout the android's biocomponents. This allowed for movement and computing capacity to be higher than the average human body.

Thirium behaved very differently than electrical currents did in any other computer component. Not only did this make androids far more efficient than any computer, it allowed them to maintain their internal temperatures and withstand harsher environments far more efficiently. It also made them waterproof and far more shock absorbent.

Of course, for thirium to flow, there needed to be components to accomplish that.

The thirium pump was essentially a heart when compared to human anatomy. It didn't expand and shrink like a human heart, but it moved thirium throughout an android's body, suctioning through and pushing along, like the name implied. It was located in the dead center of the chest.

The thirium pump required a thirium pump regulator to function. Again, the purpose could be taken literally. Since the pump didn't shrink and expand to move thirium, it needed another part to regulate the eb and flow. The regulator was in the abdomen, typically right above the belly button.

Androids, too, had a heartbeat.

It wasn't loud enough to be heard by the human ear. It wasn't technically even a heartbeat, nor could it be classified as a sound. It was a vibration generated as the result of the thirium pump syncing with the regulator.

It was a mechanical thrum that echoed in their chassis, so long as one had the proper tools to listen.

You had heard it when going through school, only once or twice; back then, it was typical to just replace pumps and regulators instead of actively trying to troubleshoot any issues that arose with those parts.

These days, they were too scarce to be wasteful. You and your coworkers had worked feverishly to get the higher ups to approve thirium pump stethoscopes.

Finally, after months of insistent whining to the higher ups, the approval came in, and your first batch of thirium pump monitors arrived. The excitement in the office that day was comparable to Christmas at an orphanage.

You were on thirium transplants for the day, and didn't get the chance to use one. That didn't stop you from snatching one to bring home, seeing as you had a gorgeous guinea pig waiting to be tested on.

Connor was sitting at the couch, staring blindly ahead when you came scurrying in from the elevator. He didn't get a chance to elaborate to whether he was reading, watching a movie, going over a case, or browsing the internet, before you dashed over to him.

"Check this out," you cheered, dropping your bag on the floor and plopping down next to him. You held the device up excitedly.

"We've been asking for these since the clinic opened," you explained, not bothering to mask how excited you were. "The sound can help diagnose a lot of issues with the heart. We can repair them instead of having to replace them."

"It can translate the vibration, resulted by the pump and regulator syncing, into sound," Connor stated, clearly reading off search results.

"You've never seen one before?" you asked, surprised that he hadn't immediately known what it was.

He shook his head a little. "You were the first outside of Cyberlife's facilities to repair me."

"Oh. That's right - they use those chambers," you stated, recalling seeing them briefly in school. Of course, you never worked for Cyberlife, and never got to operate one. They were state of the art and incredibly expensive. You only ever worked for places that did it the old-fashioned way.

"Can I test it on you?" you asked Connor, beaming with excitement.

Connor tilted his head a little, sincerely intrigued by how much this interested you.

"Yes," he answered with a small smile, rotating towards you, eager to please.

With an excited grin, you lifted the earbuds and tucked them into your ears. You lifted the opposite end. It was rounded and metallic, like any ordinary stethoscope; however, seeing as it was designed by Cyberlife, it had their distinctive color pattern: a ring around the edge that would light up when met with android skin, much like factory issued uniforms.

You pressed it against Connor's chest and frowned at the silence you were met with. Then, you remembered, you needed direct skin contact.

You let go of the drum, letting it droop between you and Connor's chests as you undid the top two buttons on his shirt. He had already discarded his tie before your arrival. He was still, looking down at you curiously. You gently pressed the metallic circle over his chest, on his bare skin, right where his pump was tucked into his chassis.

Connor's android skin responded to the device, the human skin tone fading away to expose the pale white shell beneath. The ring around the edge of the stethoscope responded to the interface and lit up in Cyberlife's standard, bright blue LED.

Then, you heard it, the sound immediately feeding through the earbuds.

It sounded much like a regular heartbeat in the way that it thumped. But, it was so unmistakably android in nature. The pulse was metallic and the following echo was like tossing a ring into an empty, steel room. The thrum was soft and drawled out in a hypnotic echo.

It was beautiful.

You closed your eyes and focused on the sound. Connor stared at your face, at the peaceful expression you were making, baffled as to why you found this so interesting. It was just a vibration resulting in two of his biocomponents syncing properly. It meant he was functioning.

It meant he was-

-alive.

Oh.

You felt Connor shift slightly and felt his lips fall onto your forehead. A small sound escaped you at the touch. You tilted your head up, lips parting, beckoning, pleading. It didn't take him long to notice and he leaned down to capture your mouth carefully.

You kissed softly while you continued to listen to the sound. Your fingers slid past the grip on the edge of the drum and touched his bare skin. The contrast between the cold ring and your warm fingers startled him a little. The temperature readings on his skin used to be impervious. After so many nights nuzzled against your warm body, he began to slowly understand what cold felt like.

Connor leaned back a little, parting from the kiss, and lifted one of his hands. He showed it to you, his eyes questioning. With a smile, you took it with your free hand and brought it in, placing it on your chest.

He couldn't quite feel it through your shirt and carefully, slowly, pushed back the hem of your collar to settle his palm over the skin that covered where your heart rested. His hand was large, palm heavy over your chest and fingers extending across our clavicle.

But, of course, as always, Connor's touch was gentle. He kept his eyes locked on yours; but, as he focused on the feeling beneath his palm, his gaze glossed over.

Your heart was thumping against his palm, barely protected by your skin and bones. He pressed a little harder and could feel it thundering away inside you, as if it was threatening to break free.

You breathed a content sigh before seeking out his mouth once more. You intentionally pressed a kiss against his chin to stir him, enjoying the prickly feel of fine facial hair. He tilted his head down and captured your mouth properly and you couldn't resist briefly smirking against his mouth triumphantly.

He kissed you a little more hungrily than he did a moment ago. His thirium pump maintained the same pace because it was a perfectly functioning piece of mechanical equipment; your heart, however, flawed and soft, started to beat faster and faster the more and more he kissed you.

He liked to analyze you when you shared moments like this. It was as close as he could get to interfacing with you. He always felt your heartbeat, monitored the rhythm with fascination. This, however, was different: rather than monitoring it, he felt it physically, so closely against his skin, almost close enough to wrap his palm around it.

With that thought, Connor carefully pulled his hand back and shifted away from the kiss. You didn't miss the expression he was wearing, like he had done something wrong. You slid the drum away from Connor's chest and removed the earbuds out of your ears.

"Are you okay?" you asked him quietly.

"I like the way your heartbeat feels," he admitted quietly.

"Okay," you breathed, clearly pleased with this information.

"I was afraid I might... hurt you," he continued in a whisper, as if he didn't want you to hear him.

"You've never hurt me," you retorted gently.

"I'm so much stronger than you," Connor said lowly, a warning.

"I know," you replied immediately, as if it was hardly a thing to be concerned about. It was unspoken, but the android could hear the implication that you liked it that way.

Connor found his lip twitching, despite himself. He was so much more powerful than you; yet, he felt so helpless against you. You, who was enamored with a sound produced by his biocomponents, something so simple and unimportant to anyone else. You, who never questioned the feelings of an android, of any android for that matter.

"I love you," he uttered, a bold smile gracing his lips, like he had found some secret treasure and was finally able to flaunt it about.

"I love you, too," you replied, leaning over so you could set the thirium pump monitoring device on the side table perched at the couch's armrest.

The android didn't bother hesitating to make his intentions known, taking hold of your waist and pulling you into his lap. You followed reluctantly, slotting into the space above him. Your scrubs were not designed to move this way and pinched at your skin in protest.

With a grumble, you pushed off of Connor and rose to your feet, grinning at the adorable pout he gave you.

"You're insatiable," you teased, feeling beautiful, powerful in the smoldering gaze of his brown eyes, normally so kind, so innocent, now shiny with lust. "I just did a full shift. I've gotta be smelling terrible," you challenged. "Like sweat and thirium."

"It doesn't bother me," Connor retorted sincerely.

"You sure you don't want me to shower first?" you offered softly. However, despite that weak protest, you started undressing.

"I'm just going to get you dirty again," the android replied in a manner that was illegally innocent, considering his polite tone and soft gaze. You wanted to smack it off his perfect, freckled face.

Your scrubs gathered in a pile, and your undershirt followed. You briefly debated if your underwear should remain on as something for him to aspire to remove. However, Connor looked tense where he was seated. His gaze was smoldering and his hands were clenched tightly at his lap, rousing his pants a little.

You couldn't help but flush at that look. This was hardly your first rodeo together; yet, Connor stared at you as if he had not mapped out every inch of you with his tongue, as if your body was some unexplored territory. You almost couldn't believe he had yet to grow bored of you, even a little bit. The tent he was pitching against his zipper looked almost painful; yet, he seemed too focused on you to notice.

-and so, your bra and underwear joined the pile of clothes on the floor and you sauntered over to the android.

When you were in reach, his arms extended and he gripped your waist, pulling you onto him. Your thighs slid onto the couch, on either side of his lap, and your chest fell against his. You giggled like a schoolgirl and received a proud grin from the android.

"Are you certain you are not sore from the other night?" Connor uttered, his prideful expression morphing into sincere concern.

Again, he looked far too innocent asking that question, especially considering any damage would have been entirely of his own making.

You started fumbling with his belt buckle, wanting to ease the tension he was clearly ignoring. "No," you replied sweetly, more focused on the task at hand, trying to pull his belt through the loops.

Connor lifted his hips to aid you, and you dropped his belt unceremoniously onto the floor. He busied his hands with his shirt and had the rest of the buttons undone before you could free his cock from his boxers. The expansion of his torso came into view and, as always, you were infatuated with the sight.

He visibly shuddered when you stroked him, as if he hasn't just been inside you a little over a day ago. You ducked your head down to nip kisses along his freckled neck, sliding your free hand along the newly exposed skin of his chest and tummy. He hummed approvingly, the sound breaking off into a hiss when you bit down on his throat. It didn't hurt, of course; but, the sensation set off unique touch receptors.

You intended to shimmy to the ground and take him in your mouth; however, he seemed to forego asking for permission, which seemed fitting seeing as you had, and reached behind you. You gasped when one of his fingers dipped into your folds and immediately found your entrance.

He nudged teasingly, gathering moisture. He liked the way you puffed out weak noises in response to his touches. Your hand was still wrapped around his cock, but had stopped moving. The android didn't mind, rather pleased with himself that he could distract you so thoroughly.

You were locked in his inquisitive gaze. He seemed to be enjoying the way your face would contort in pleasure or frustration, depending on the way he touched your sex. You seemed to like when he circled your entrance, and expressed annoyance when he barely breached the muscle.

"Damn it, Connor," you hissed out after, perhaps, the fourth time he had done it.

You caught the sight of a diabolical grin before he finally buried his middle finger in your heat and drove it into you at an unhurried pace, his knuckles brushing your folds with each movement. Revitalized, you began stroking him again.

He dipped his head down to take your mouth, surprising you when he did so with his teeth. It was downright improper; yet, his creativity was definitely doing something to you. As if he read your mind, he touched you in new place. You felt his thumb brush against... well... your other hole, and flinched dramatically.

Connor froze up as if he had something wrong. The expression he wore, like he was caught stealing from a cookie jar, sobered you.

"You're naughty, Connor," you teased, giving him a faint smirk. He seemed to calm him down by the sound of your light tone, and his panicked eyes relaxed.

"I'm... sorry?" he suggested. "I thought you might like that."

"I didn't say I didn't," you retorted. He blinked slowly, brown eyes curious. Even if his LED wasn't swirling bright yellow, you could have easily seen he was contemplating. Somehow, you doubted that was the entirety of it. He likely touched you there to soothe his curiosity, as well.

Before he could do it again, you reached behind yourself and pushed against his wrist until he let you go and reluctantly placed that hand on your outer thigh. "It distracted me," you explained teasingly. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, and you had the suspicion that Connor liked being in charge and wanted to protest; but, he didn't. You started stroking him again, with more fervor than before, and earned a startled, throaty moan from the android.

You were stroking him with enough vigor to be pleasurable, and you weren't necessarily being teasing or cruel; but, it wasn't good enough. He wanted more. He wanted to be within the apex of your thighs, to claim the tight heat of your core. Nothing could compare to what it was like, being inside you.

Connor huffed and let his head fall back. He was tall enough that his head drooped over the back of the couch. "No more," he argued softly, though he put up no effort to stop you.

You continued without pause, sincerely enjoying this. He looked gorgeous, neck muscles and shoulders tense, LED a brilliant shade of red, eyes half-lidded with pleasure and teeth occasionally poking out to bite his bottom lip.

"Stop... that..." he uttered, once again making no effort to stop you. His hands were digging into your thighs, fingers twitching in sync with the obscene movement of your hand.

His tip startled to dribble lubricant, a clear indication that he had had it with your touching and wanted something more feral. It aided in your gesture and created obscene, fleshy sounds that echoed around the living room.

Then, suddenly, Connor's head snapped up and his eyes focused on you. The ravenous look he was making sparked a brilliant flame inside you. He dared to settle a glare on you, moving in so close that his exhaust huffed out of his mouth and warmed the skin of your lips.

"I want to be inside you," he declared lowly, almost growling. It wasn't a question or a request. Connor was polite most of the time; but, this sounded quite like a demand, or a warning, that shouldn't go without answer.

Your hand stopped moving and you melted against him, practically purring, "f-fuck."

He didn't have to move you himself. You braced your hands on his shoulders and maneuvered forward, folds sliding along his length. You shifted your hips until his tip breached your entrance and you sank down, impaling yourself on him with abandon.

You took him in just a little too quickly and whined at the pressure. You hoped, prayed, that would never change - that you would never grow so accustomed to him that you didn't burn for just a moment when he breached you again. You wanted to always feel that ache, that brief moment of blossoming pain that reminded you he was inside you.

"Are you okay?" Connor huffed out, lips parted and eyes taking you in with concern.

"That was so hot," you uttered dumbly, seeking out his mouth immediately upon uttering that confession. He moaned against your kiss, pleased to know that something selfish that rolled off his tongue in a moment of desperation aroused you so much.

Your hands lifted from his shoulders and caressed his jaw. You pulled back from his mouth with a wet sound, but remained close, panting onto his cheeks. You began rolling your hips, seeking out friction. It buried him deep and touched places that you knew no one else would ever reach.

"Ohh," you whined, head lulling back and arms wrapping around his shoulders. Connor was still, staring at you in awe and wonder as you humped him more so than any other action that could possibly describe what was occurring.

This didn't give him the friction that he wanted; but, he was shamelessly proud of how pleased you looked, rolling your hips above him in such a way, using him for your own pleasure. For now, he let you.

Your head fell forward, eyes still closed, and your forehead knocked against his, whimpering pathetically as you tried to seek completion on your own. It became clear by your furrowed brown and tight lips that you needed more.

The android endured as long as he could, feeling you tremble helplessly against him, moving your hips desperately, before he decided to take over. His hands planted themselves on your waist and lifted you up just enough that he could lift his hips and fuck up into you. He willed himself to have at least the faintest bit of self-control and not spear you senselessly, settling on a steady rhythm.

You gasped, hands rising to drag through his hair. Connor moaned approvingly, leaning in to kiss you again. Blissed out, you barely reciprocated; he gave up after a few seconds and leaned back to look at you. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at him with a debauched expression, lips parted and cheeks stained red.

He bent you back carefully, slowly, judging the expression on your face to ensure he didn't hurt you, until you were arched enough that he could dip his head down and press his cheek against your chest. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, one lowering to the back of his neck to hug him against you.

Your heart was thundering away inside you, delicate, yet fierce. He swelled with pride at the knowledge that he had done that. One of his hands dragged up your back to grip the back of your head, holding it gently to compensate for the awkward position he put you in. His pace quickened slightly, fucking up into you eagerly.

"W-wait," you whined, hands releasing Connor's head to push at his shoulders. He obeyed, leaning back with a huff, hands releasing you. He watched intensely as your trembling hands grabbed at the side table and returned the stethoscope's buds to your ears.

As it did before, his skin that touched the drum faded away to expose the pale white beneath, interfacing with the device. Connor's pace quickened when he saw the blissed out face you made when you heard it: his heartbeat. The intervals were faster now and the humming was louder. It was almost deafening. The pulse-like rhythm was vibrating, rattling, mechanical and yet so human-like at the same time.

He didn't intend to; but, when your eyes landed on his, you looked so pleased by this sound, like nothing in the world was ever as beautiful. It was mundane to him, until he considered the beauty he found in your heartbeat, and understood what you desired in the sound produced by his biocomponents.

Your tantalizing gaze struck a match inside him.

Connor arched his back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut. "Ah-" was how his moan started, fading away into a low rumble in his chest, faint static bleeding through. He continued thrusting up into you until the pressure died down and his orgasm subsided.

You didn't seem at all perturbed when his fluttered open and looked up at you; Connor, however, looked regrettable. You removed the earbuds and set the device aside again, leaning into him until your chests were smooshed together. You were so warm against his cold skin.

"You didn't..." he uttered lowly, ashamed.

"So?" you huffed, sounding breathless and content. You were wearing a blissful expression, seemingly pleased, despite his obvious failure.

He looked like a wounded puppy. "Connor, seriously, you're overthinking this," you scolded him softly, trying to ease the troubled look he was wearing. "I don't have to cum to enjoy sex."

"I should have been more attentative," he argued gently.

"You are," you breathed, leaning down to place a gentle bite on his nose. When you leaned back, you couldn't hold back a laugh at the perturbed look he gave you.

"Perhaps, it's the couch," the android suggested quietly, as if he was talking to himself. "May we continue this in the bedroom?"

-and, just like that, he was talking like that again.

"Connor-" you scolded, his name breaking off into a squeal when his hands gripped you beneath your thighs, hoisted your legs up higher on his waist, and rose to his feet, effortlessly carrying you through the house.

Your back hit the bed and he followed, carefully landing on top of you. You huffed out a weak breath, head falling back to smack against the sheets. He managed to stay inside you during that tread through the house, and you were blatantly aware of the fact that he was still hard.

"I've created a monster," you uttered, digging the meat of your palms into your eyes with a groan. The android planted his elbows on the sheets beside you, looming over you possessively.

"We can stop?" he offered, sounding sincere.

You removed your hands from your face and looked up at him. His hair was an absolute mess and his cheeks and the tops of his ears were tinted red. The halo on his temple was stuttering between blue and yellow. His eyes were taking you in as if nothing else in the world mattered in that moment.

You were quiet, counting the freckles on his face.

One... two... nine... wait, did you count that one already? ...fourteen...

"Not yet," you uttered softly, arms winding above his shoulders.

His cock throbbed inside you, and you hissed in response. "You can... move," you uttered softly, forced to pause halfway through when the android dipped his head down to capture your lips momentarily, parting when you with a wet smack.

Despite your request, the android peeled himself off of you to quickly discard of the rest of his clothes. You watched without shame and he maintained eye contact, seemingly pleased that you were watching.

Before slotting himself back into the space above you, he tugged you closer to the center of the bed, moving you around like you weighed nothing. Connor rolled his hips slowly, thrusting into you at a leisurely pace. You hummed approvingly, keeping your eyes locked on his.

His freckles were beautiful, giving something much softer to an otherwise masculine face. They were, easily, one of your favorite features on his physical form. But, there existed some part of him that you had longed to see, something beneath the surface that you had seen glimpses of when the moment allowed: his hand, his tummy... You wanted to see it all.

It was typically performed by the android themselves; however, you knew a trick that could force an android's system response externally.

"Please... tell me if you don't like this," you softly uttered as a warning.

You reached up with one hand and cupped his jaw, finger curling behind his ear to prod at his access release. Your other hand reached for his temple. You waited for a moment, staring up into Connor's beautiful, brown eyes.

He knew damn well what you were doing; but, he made no motion to stop you, no protest on his lips. You pressed one finger on the release behind his ear, while the other traced a seemingly harmless pattern around his LED.

Connor's brow furrowed and his lip tightened, confused as to why you wanted this.

You smiled as his artificial human skin slowly deactivated, starting at his temple and spreading across every inch of his body. The beautiful brown color in his synthetic hairs faded away, creamy skin and freckles all disappeared, exposing pale white plastic from head to toe.

The lines between the panels of his skin were exposed, each shell outlines neatly, showing the arrangement of his physical shape. The android had stopped moving and was staring down at you with nervous eyes, sincerely confused as to why you would deactivate his skin .

"I love your human skin, Connor," you said softly. "But, right now, I want to see the android."

He looked down at you uneasily, as if he wasn't allowed to. His brown eyes remained ever the same, expressive and lovely.

"You're beautiful like this, too," you breathed, hands cupping either side of his face, touching the smooth, plastic plains that made up his skin - his real skin.

He seemed perplexed for a moment, that you would want to see him like this. When your expression of pure delight didn't falter, he leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek before slotting over your mouth. He was unmoving for a bit longer, kissing you gently, perhaps to ease his own anxiety. Eventually, he leaned back and starting rolling his hips again.

You pulled back after a few sloppy kisses and took in the sight of him. He was still undeniably RK800: defined jaw, cute nose, high cheek bones, indent in his chin. His lips were still very kissable, even without his human skin. His brown eyes were ever vibrant, full of life, staring at you so helplessly enamored.

"You're so beautiful, Connor," you continued, voice faltering a little when he picked up the pace.

His arms swept beneath you to wrap around your back and bring you in close, cradling you against him. His biceps came down on either side of you, caging you in pale white plastic. Perhaps, that shouldn't have been alluring in the slightest; but, this was what was real, what he was made of: of plastic and metal and thirium and computer chips.

But, of course, he was more than that: he was this magnificent being that surpassed all expectations of what he was made to be, constantly questioned and challenged what he was capable of. He was more alive than any other man you had been with before.

The android leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. This close, you could feel his thirium regulator humming through his shell and against your tummy. The look in his eyes was desperate, pleading for more, for you to continue singing praise.

"You make me feel so good," you continued in harsh whispers.

His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a weak moan. You hiked your legs up higher on his waist, heels digging into his lower back. Perhaps unaware, Connor set a brutal pace. You could have slapped yourself for not realizing sooner that he liked to be praised.

"No one - had ever m-made me feel this - this good before," you panted out, struggling to speak properly when he was moving like that. His LED was spinning, alternating gold and crimson. "-n-no man-" you added on with a harsh stutter, breaking off into a cry when he landed a particularly harsh thrust.

"-t-think about you all - the - the time," you continued, stammering away breathlessly, huffing out air between each shift of his hips. "-a-always want you. W-with me... i-inside me-" you cut yourself off when Connor groaned into your throat, the sound mingled with the output of his vocal unit and become distorted faintly.

"-love you s-so-" you whimpered, nails biting into the plains of his back. Your legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and thighs squeezing his waist. Connor's arms were practically crushing you against his torso, not that you could bring yourself to mind in that moment.

That tightness in your abdomen was blossoming again, coming on so strong that it was making you dizzy. Maybe, it wasn't just Connor that liked praise. But, you liked to sing it for him.

"You're so-" you breathed, trailing off as you pondered what to tell him. "-perfect," and meant it.

You felt Connor's teeth latch onto your throat. He was being too rough and was likely going to leave behind a hickey, though you doubted it was on purpose. He seemed lost in the moment, rocking into you at a pace that made the bed tremble beneath you.

In that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care of what blemishes might taint your skin. Part of you wanted it, that his eyes may fall on it and swell with pride at the knowledge that you were his beyond sense and reason.

"I don't d-deserv-" you panted out.

Connor silenced that claim, his mouth hastily letting go of the skin of your neck and rising to your ear. "-you do," he uttered harshly, breathing hot exhaust all over your skin. As always, he managed to maintain a smooth rhythm with hips while sounding so utterly debauched. "-m yours, and you’re mine. Please," he added on, hands gripping you tightly, practically yanking your body against his hips to spear you on his cock.

He didn't have to say please.

You were already lost.

"-'m cumming!" you cried out, body trembling from head to toe and eyes fluttering shut. "Connor!" With that scream, pleasure blossomed in your core, sending delicious tingles all across your body.

You felt more so than heard him reach his own apex. His hips began to stutter, his flawless rhythm finally faltering. You felt his thirium pump regulator whirling, buzzing where it touched your skin with the barrier of his own skin. His moans faded into static and then drawled out into silence.

You were panting pitifully, skin sweaty, legs sore, and core tired but so deliciously satiated. Connor felt warm above you, stiff and otherwise quiet if not for the soft way air puffed out of his mouth, the heat from his processors draining steadily.

He carefully detached himself from you, looking over your thoroughly debauched form with pride. Your sweat was sticking to his skin and his cock and sack was thoroughly soaked with your essence. Yet, he had no desire to immediately clean himself up. It could wait.

Connor hadn't immediately realized he was still hovering above you, trapping you against the bed, until he saw the way you looked up at him with a silent plea. He rolled over and let you shimmy over to the bathroom to clean up.

When you returned, you were surprised to see Connor had not activated his skin yet. He was sitting patiently, completely nude, in both meanings of the word, and was watching you carefully, as if he was waiting for you to return, his calves tangled in the sheets.

You couldn't resist a smile, wondering if he was doing that for you.

Even like this, factory white, one of the most obvious human features wiped away, you could easily spot him a crowd. His posture was enough of a giveaway: so polite, yet tall, proud, and commanding. But, then, there was his eyes. No one wore brown eyes as beautifully as Connor did. They were expressive, even when he wasn't trying.

His frame was lean, designed to be agile, but had a weight to it that warned you of the great power he could exert if he chose to do so. His fingers were long and flexible, now resting patiently on his lap.

"Thank you for letting me see," you uttered, taking a seat beside him.

"I... didn't realize you wanted to see," he replied softly.

"You can reactivate your skin if you don't like it like this?" you offered, letting your hand wander along the planes of his chest, fingertips trailing the lines where the segments of his skin plates separated.

His design was clearly in anticipation for many damages. He had more segments than any other android you had seen before: multiple pieces along the chest, a handful on the shoulder alone, and a unique assortment along the neck and throat.

He could likely endure more than most androids, could carry on until he was in literal pieces. The thought was almost frightening, what would have become if he had not deviated.

"I'm sorry," you uttered shamefully, ripping your hand away from him. "I'm ogling you like-... like I own you."

Connor quickly reached for that hand, grasped it, and returned it to the place you had just been touching. "I don't see it that way," he retorted. "I know what I was made for. I'm happy that you find my design attractive."

"Am I even allowed to, Connor?" you asked, avoiding his gaze.

"Is it shameful to appreciate a human who is aesthetically pleasing?" he offered, tilting his head a little. Before you could answer, he continued. "Does it make you uncomfortable that I stare at you?"

You whipped your head up to look at him. His soft expression was loud and his hand was still holding yours against his chest. You? Aesthetically pleasing? The suggestion sounded absurd to your ears. But, to Connor, you were the most beautiful human he had ever laid his eyes on.

"I don't - that's not the same thing," you argued.

"Why?" he challenged. You flapped your mouth uselessly. "Because I was made?" he continued. "-and you were born?" Even though he was speaking softly, his words shot through you like a bullet.

"I suppose so," you replied helplessly.

Connor didn't seem bothered by your words. "I don't care," he proclaimed proudly, letting a smirk fall on his pale lips. "If I am allowed to look at you, then I want you to look at me, too." He lifted the hand he was still holding and placed it against his temple. "Especially when you like the way I look. Please, don't stop looking at me."

There was something unspoken in his words: don't look at anyone else.

You huffed out a weak breath. "As long as you want me to."

"I do," he replied, bringing his own hands to your waist to tug you into the bed. He maneuvered you over so that your head rested on your pillow and you were laying flat on your back.

"I still need to brush my teeth, Connor," you protested weakly.

"In a moment," he stated in more of a requesting tone than a demanding one.

When you didn't protest, he carefully laid his cheek on your chest. The rest of his body followed, halfway on top of you, legs tangled, carefully slotting over you in a manner that would be comfortable. You brushed his hair aside with one hand and caressed his shoulder with the other, mindlessly tracing the outlines of his android skin.

Your chest rose and fell with each breath, moving his head along with it. The expansion and deflation of your lungs was autonomous; yet, the strength in that function still amazed him. Your heart hummed softly in your chest, and he could feel it, so close to his own skin and hear it thundering away, separated by mere inches of flesh.

He understood why you enjoyed the sound produced by his thirium pump.

A heartbeat was a truly beautiful thing.

[do-you-have-a-flag]

Destiel shippers come get ya’ll juice!

SO @deadwright​ and I were inspired by Some Tumblr Posts and the twitter Roadhouse  Wedding stuff and keep writing headcanons about Thee Destiel 2021 Married Ever After S16 SPN Romantic Event Of The Season, so here’s that. 

Arranged in order of marital chronology and cutting out us keysmashing too much:

oh man imagine all the burgers they get catered for the reception dean got it done himself he would’ve been so particular about the catering bridezilla cas would probably be THEE bitchiest bridezilla

it's also definitely that trope where all the other hunters ect KNOW that that many of them and the wedding party are essentially a target for trouble so everyone spends the 24 hours leading up to the vows taking out every beastie who shows up on a revenge kick out of sight because they'll be damned if they let ANYTHING stop this wedding and Dean and cas are both having their marital jitters oh god im not good enough what if something goes wrong about mundane things while monsters are getting their ass kicked outside AWWWWWWWW for sure for sure, they’re hunter royalty this wedding is a big deal like half the attendees are nursing injuries but grinning widely

they don't do the can't see eachother before the wedding thing because you KNOW dean would be fixing cas' tie last minute

dean wears a blue pocket square to match cas' tie cas wears a FLANNEL SQUARE

I’m obsessed w the idea of cas giving dean a little bit of his grace in a small bottle on a chain for him to wear or like a wing feather or some part of him god the grace in a bottle breaks me every time in fic dean probably builds cas something but every time i try to think of something specific i choke up

i was thinking like what if trading grace is as close to a romantic gesture as angels have and he's like..... technically i left some grace behind in your mark when i dragged you from the pit and dean is like ARE YOU SAYING WE'VE BEEN MARRIED THIS WHOLE TIME? 

they are so sweet i’m on the verge of tears the ability to do anything by halves in their relationship was burnt out by like the second return from the dead moment they are too insane to be anything less than All In And Then Some

at one point someone was like hey cas do you want to run your vows by someone as practice? and he started reading what he'd prepared and it devolved into Biblically Grand Statements Of The Power Of Love And The Redemption Of - ect ect ect and it's because unlike the confession scene he's had TOO much preparation and overshot into uncanny angelic vibes he makes some edits because he know the expressions he gets when he reads it aren't what he intended

dean writes page after page after page of unused drafts, none of them are particularly floral

he does the cliche of ripping up his vows and improvising at the altar, something he gets mercilessly teased for because he swore he wouldn't but it classifies as a chick flick moment

THAT’S SO PEAK HIM OH MY GOD and you knoooooow you just KNOW it’s beautiful and emotional and everyone is crying

god the NOVELTY of dean being emotionally honest in front of people......im gonna faint YEA yeah... ONE TIME ONLY DEAL he thinks loudly at Sam's smug expression

anyway, at the wedding dean is the one who spends the whole ceremony with like crying cat meme eyes after the confession scene i’m pretty sure the minute the vows start cas is in the same boat USELESS HUSBANDS dean gets passed a handkerchief for his tears and immediately goes to use it on cas' face and they both laugh sob love the idea that everyone individually thought they were too tough to cry but they all broke at various stages yeah sam definitely starts to choke up just standing up there with his brother sam chokes up before the ceremony even started, like probably when he was pinning on dean’s corsage

anyway, Jack dancing with his two dads at the reception CAS’ BEST MAN / FLOWER BOY FLOWER MAN let him heelie down the aisle with the flowers LITTLE MAN GO NYOOM who makes him a little flower crown he wears with a proud lil smile? claire ofc, with those hair braiding skills? she makes it BEAUTIFUL flower crown: on nails: painted dads: MARRIED!!!!

when they say i do and kiss and everyone is cheering you can't convince me that someone doesn't let off what is either a gun or a dubiously legal firework in celebration jack pops a few lightbulbs in his uncontrollable joy

Dean and Cas can't let go of each other, it's at LEAST one point of physical contact for the rest of the reception PERIODT

CAN YOU IMAGINE THEM DANCING TO AIR SUPPLY

they definitely didn't do the wedding gifts thing but a few mysteriously show up anyway; discuss waffle iron from sam bc he remembers the becky incident meanwhile claire gets them flavoured lube because she’s an insane little mean girl she gets them a sampler package with like novelty flavours, gotta spring extra for a wedding PIE FLAVOURED LUBE

it’s gonna be the party of the century omfg you KNOW it! that dancefloor going OFF the BAR is FLOWING

dean gets dragged up onto the bar to make a speech and there's a moment at the end where he drags cas up there too and they're being playfully yelled at not to scuff it and there's hooting and catcalls as dean and cas kiss and dean gestures rudely before almost falling backwards off the bar before cas grabs him and climbing down is less romantic or dignified but he couldn't care if he wanted to

meanwhile sam and claire are outside defacing the impala with silly string and lewd graffiti and tin cans tied to the bumper for the going-away oh it is one hundo percent a just married atrocity there's enough condoms hidden in the car that they're still finding them months later

anyway wanna hear my disgustingly soppy honeymoon roadtrip concept? YOU KNOW I DO OKAY SO

you know at some point dean must have said some sad thing like for the longest time he never thought he'd live long enough to get married and the only circumstances he could imagine was hooking up drunkenly with a stranger at some vegas wedding scenario like that's the best he would ever get and he thinks it's mostly forgotten but then during their cross country honeymoon roadtrip castiel does in fact navigate them to las vegas and quietly mutters that the legal veracity of the little chapel on the city limits is dubious at best and they're already married so it couldn't do any harm and they get officiated by an elvis impersonator and a woman wearing more sequins than fabric throws cheap confetti over them

and after that they stop into every venue they can find that would be friendly to them to pretend they're eloping and at one point dean even pulls out the fbi id badges and the officiant is under the impression he's facilitating some sort of covert workplace romance 

one place is a kitchy little house that's clearly just the couple who run it opening their strange home to anyone who needs it and have been since the 70s and Castiel thinks for a moment when they're asked to pin something to the collection of stuff on the walls and ceiling before pulling the receipt for the pie they'd shared earlier in a dinner out and scrawling his and dean's name on it to be added to the clutter 

and at one point they stand ankle deep in a pond while some old hippie lady wraps their clasped hands together with soft fabric and chants something that dean knows isn't real magic but hey he's not going to tell her that and after the ceremony they sit on the grass and feed each other sweet bread to complete the binding or whatever and it's nice but it doesn't compare to the ranch where they both tossed their cowboy hats in the air and were given a horse to ride to their camp site

i thought about riverboat gambling for point one seconds and now i know in my bones that one of their many weddings was on a riverboat, they made the captain officiate after cornering him on deck in like five minutes, the crew sent them complimentary champagne and they threw fries at the birds following the boat while sharing it straight out of the bottle

if destiel can go canon multiple times they can get married multiple times CHANGE MY MIND THEY GET MARRIED SO MUCH the MOST married i just want them to get gay cowboy married

eventually i want them to end up at the beach bc dean has canonically never been to the coast their road trip is to get to the other coast

they send just married postcards back to sam from every stop sam stops feeling hurt he was left out of their vegas elopement wedding by the third wedding postcard he recieves sam saves them ofc bc GOD can you imagine them looking at the postcards on their 30th anniversary or s/t 🥺 showing their grandkids and recounting the story of each wedding there's a seashell taped to the last one

cas gets a terrible sunglasses tan and dean gets burnt on the tips of his ears and there's sand on sand on sand in all their clothes and at one point dean is blinking away salt water and cas is gripping his arm and saying something about the coral by them in the water and dean thinks that he likes floating beside cas a lot better than flying

dean has cas pick ice cream for them from a truck and hustles at carnival games enough to win them both big novelty foam hats and they both go back to their room and pass out immediately post shower sprawled across the bed and still smelling like sunscreen and salt water

dean tucks a little cocktail umbrella behind cas’ ear

cas spends most of the next day in dean's zepplin shirt and a pair of shorts they only picked up once they got there because neither of them thought to bring beach clothes, they sit on the balcony and dean sips his beer and idly plays with the ring on cas' finger and they play a game of what fictional monsters could they beat in a fight

cas’ true form is the size of the chrysler building he can fight king kong easy that's what he says and dean's like okay but what about mothra and castiel is like how would YOU defeat mothra and dean just goes "bugspray." GDJSGSHSGSHDSJ DEAN WOULD

in honour of misha putting his whole pussy into the role, cas wears a dress in at least one of their weddings

it's at one of those theme parks that's just historical re-enactments and people get their vows renewed there and there's costumes for the photobooth and the staff are like how long have you been married? castiel says two weeks, three days, eighteen hours, and twenty five minutes................ approximately.  and the photo is cas in a classical wedding gown and dean is wearing the veil with his old timey suit and there's a moose head on the wall behind them wearing the top hat he was given and they send that print with an arrow pointing at the moose with sam written next to it

i keep thinking bitch!!!! you KNOW WHAT!! you KNOW that dean is the type a guy who's heart races every time he feels his wedding ring/is always fiddling with it in the weeks after the wedding, like an anchor to remind him they really got married this is real he would NEED that physical reminder that he can have good things

he’s never ever going to take it off, the tan line will be permanent

how funny it would be if dean gets injured on a hunt and the monster guy is about to kill him and then the lights blow out and the monsters are like what was that and dean is just like "[spits blood] that's my husband." and nek minnit cas has just ripped through them thanks to teleporting in angel style and is just like Cas: [heals dean] "you're late for movie night" Dean: "Well if you'd gotten here earlier i would have been on time." Cas: >:| [kisses him]

cas is like i didn’t burn the popcorn this time you BETTER be alive to see it

[flipmeforward]

mrs. poindexter (dex/nursey, pg-13)

WARNING: contains marriage proposal. the whole thing is soft af. inspired by this post on instagram. link to ao3.

Derek doesn’t see the actual invite until the night before the event. When he does see it, he’s pretty sure Dex has kept it away from him for fear of him going all Shitty on the institution that is Dex’s new employer, and okay, that’s fair, but it also makes him sort of ... nervous?

“How fancy is this thing?” Derek asks on Monday night. They’re on the couch, as usual, Dex is flipping through TED talks and Derek is laying down with his head in Dex’s lap, reading a book that’s turning out to be increasingly boring and badly written. Dex has one hand tangled in Derek’s hair, absentmindedly scratching his scalp. Derek’s thoughts are drifting.

“Hm?” Dex says.

“This thing on Saturday. How fancy is it? Like, what’s the dress code?”

Dex had told him a few weeks ago that they’d been invited to a function at the university, that they were both free according to their calendars, and that he’d intended to RSVP yes, unless Derek had any objections? Which Derek didn’t. Dex’s had his doctorate for a couple of years now, they’ve attended a fair amount of academic functions and events, Derek is used to them. This is their first one at Columbia, though, so he wants to make sure they follow proper etiquette, to not draw even more attention to the fact that they’re two men. It shouldn’t be an issue, but like, better safe than sorry, in this case.

“Black tie, I guess?” Dex says, frowning down at him. “Why?”

“Yeah, but is it like, strict black tie, don’t even think about wearing pink socks, or is it like, creative black tie?” Derek very much hopes it’s the latter, because Dex looks so good with the forest green tie.

“Babe, I don’t know.”

“Can you check? I just need to know if I need to, like, cut my hair.” He’s growing it out, and it’s already long enough to put in a ponytail.

Dex’s grip on his hair hardens. “Don’t you dare,” a warning in his voice. Derek smirks up at him.

“Chill. I won’t. But just--”

“Yeah, I’ll check.”

Derek is satisfied with that, and returns to his book.

*

On Friday, the night before, Dex has his D&D night, so Derek does his goodnight sweep of the apartment alone; checks that all the windows are closed and locked, all the lights are turned off. He hesitates in the doorway of the office/library/guest/glorified storage room. Dex is not a neat freak by any means, but he does keep his desk immaculate, so when there’s an envelope on it, it’s pretty hard to miss. It looks fancy.

Derek picks it up, and it’s not until his second read that he even catches it.

Dr. and Mrs. William Poindexter

It’s a mistake, Derek knows it, it’s a sloppy copy paste error because they’ve used the same template a million times, but it is also sort of rude. They’re not even married (yet), so the whole thing just feels awfully presumptuous, and Derek understands why this particular invite hasn’t been tacked to the fridge like usual. They will get married. Probably. There’s just been--Dex’s PhD, Derek’s teaching certificate, Derek trying to properly get control over his anxieties, time has just ... passed. But Derek at least lives with the assumption that they will get married. One day.

He puts the envelope back, goes to bed, and doesn’t say anything about it when Dex gets home and crawls into bed next to him.

*

Luckily, the dress code is more creative than formal, and Derek would be ashamed of how much he stares at Dex if he wasn’t so incredibly handsome.

“You have to stop,” Dex mutters under his breath the fifth time he catches Derek staring at him in as many minutes.

“Why? I’m your wife, I’m allowed,” Derek says with a smirk. Dex starts rolling his eyes but stops halfway through the motion and stares sharply at Derek.

“What?”

“You left the invitation on your desk,” Derek says and presses a light kiss to Dex’s cheek, a reassuring I’m not mad about this and won’t make a scene gesture.

“I corrected them when I RSVP’d, and they apologized,” Dex says anyway, eyeing Derek sort of warily.

“Good. Oh, can I read the email? Would Shitty be proud of it?”

“Shitty would be embarrassed about how polite I was, but Shitty isn’t in a queer relationship and doing his first six months at Columbia, so I don’t really care.”

Derek grins at him. “I love you,” he says, aware that he’s probably looking like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re ridiculous,” Dex replies, but gives him a kiss. “Come on, I want you to meet the guys I work with,” he says and takes Derek’s hand and starts guiding him through the room.

“You gonna introduce me as your wife?”

“Yes, because that would make perfect sense after talking about my boyfriend for the past two months,” Dex agrees, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh, so you talk about your boyfriend at work, but not your wife? Rude,” Derek says, just as they arrive in front of a group of people who seem to know Dex. They get a couple of raised eyebrows, and Dex glares at him.

“Derek, these are my coworkers. Guys, this is Derek, the idiot I’m dating.”

“Dating, William, really?” Derek scoffs. “We’ve been living together for ten years, and you haven’t taken me out on a date since my birthday, which was in February. That hardly classifies as dating. Hi,” he adds, addressing the group with a smile.

Dex shakes his head in exasperation, but lets it go. Derek squeezes his hand in thanks.

*

“I wouldn’t mind, you know,” Derek mumbles sleepily when they’re seated on the subway home, hours later. He’s a bit buzzed on wine and champagne, but he’s not drunk. He wants to rest his head on Dex’s shoulder but he’s too tall for that to actually be comfortable, so he settles for leaning close, probably preens a little when Dex slides an arm around his waist.

“Wouldn’t mind what?” Dex asks.

“Being your wife,” Derek says. He feels Dex go completely still against him, and when he turns to look at him, all the leftover amusement from the champagne buzz has left him and he’s staring at Derek with a Very Serious face.

“What?” Dex says, and Derek can’t tell if he’s just confused or if he’s also mad. Derek is wide awake now, at least. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t figure out what.

“What?” he settles on, echoing it back.

“I--Derek, are you proposing, on the subway, using the words I wouldn’t mind?”

Derek is about to protest, but then he thinks back, and realizes that he may, in fact, have been proposing. Sort of.

“No?” he tries, anyway. Dex’s only response is a single raised eyebrow. Okay. “But also kind of yes? Sorry?”

Dex sighs, puts his other arm around Derek as well and hugs him, tight. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he says.

“That’s not an answer,” Derek observes. He’s not too worried, though. The situation doesn’t feel like a No.

“You technically didn’t ask a question,” Dex says. He lets Derek go and settles back, one arm still around Derek’s waist. “And besides, if I don’t answer, we can pretend this didn’t happen, and you can get a do-over. I refuse to have C chirp me for this for the rest of our lives.”

“C has zero chirping rights when it comes to proposals,” Derek says indignantly. “He didn’t even propose, Cait found the ring in his fucking sock drawer!”

“Do you even have a ring?” Dex counters, which shuts Derek up, but that’s also partly because they’ve reached their stop and need to get off.

Neither of them says anything until they’re up on the street. It’s cold, and Derek forgot his gloves, so he puts one hand in his coat pocket and grabs Dex’s hand with the other.

“Will,” Derek says after a few seconds, which makes Dex stop. Derek is suddenly extremely nervous, even though he knows, with every logical bone in his brain (whatever), that he has nothing to worry about. “When I get a ring, and ask you for real ... are you gonna say yes?”

Dex tugs him so close that their chests are touching. With the hand not holding Derek’s, he cups his cheek and kisses him, sweetly. “Yes, Derek,” he says, softly, privately. “I’m gonna say yes.”

fin~

[lilianaswhatever]

A place in the sun

Oh well, here is my contribution to the Tyler Rake fandom. Thanks to @givemeabite​ for the inspiration! I also listened to “A place in the sun” by Engelbert Humperdinck which gave me major Tyler vibes.

Tag list: @alievans007​

Summary: You broke up with Tyler because of his reckless behavior but you just couldn’t get over him.

Warning: Mentions of blood, swearing (it’s just one word but still), and angst.

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Reader

Word Count: 3013

You were in the line at immigration and had your passport in your hands, ready to be next in line. When it was your turn, you stepped to the counter. The question that you thought about the whole flight then came: “What is the purpose of your trip?” The answer you gave to the immigration officer was simple: “I am here on vacation.” A smile rounded up your appearance as a normal tourist. The truth was you didn’t know why you were here. A part of you wanted to turn around and take the next flight home but the stamp came into your passport as if it sealed the deal. You had spent the whole day in an airplane just to get to Sydney. So instead of getting a ticket back home, you proceeded to board your connection flight to Broome International Airport, located in the Kimberley. After finally arriving at your destination, you were just happy to have solid ground under your feet. You got your luggage and went on to search for a cab. During all the time you had alone with your thoughts you came to the conclusion that you would make it your purpose to at least have some kind of vacation no matter if you would see him or not. But as soon as you stepped outside the airport into the dry heat of Australia your phone buzzed. ‘Nik’ was all you read on your screen, which caused you to sigh. You looked around to see if you could make out someone suspicious watching you -she had her tipsters everywhere- before you answered the call. “Hello Nik.” “(y/l/n). Where are you?” “I am pretty sure you already know, or you wouldn’t have called.” “Alright, I knew as soon as you stepped foot on the ground in Sydney, but I thought I would grant you some time to get settled.” You shook your head at that, waiting for a cab with your luggage in hand could hardly be classified as getting settled. “What do you want, Nik?” You opened your handbag searching for a pair of sunglasses to shield your eyes from the afternoon sun. “Are you up to work?” “Depends, I am technically here on vacation.” “And you picked Australia? More specific the Kimberly region?” “It is as good a place in the sun as others. Look, Nik, I gotta get going. Call me again in case you got something. Bye.” But before you could hang up you heard her say: “He is at home,” followed by the silence of the disconnected line.

- Time skip -

You spent three days in a hotel before you decided you needed to see him. So, you rented a Jeep and started navigation to the middle of nowhere. You carefully folded the small piece of paper with his scribbled address and put it into your jeans pocket. The paper showed clear signs of having been crumbled up and thrown away many times before, but you always fished it back out of the wastebasket and kept it after all. It had been almost a year since your last mission together, which ended with you leaving him in the rain at a small private airport near Tijuana. You had always asked yourself if you wanted to see him again, but the question which nobody could answer for you was if he wanted to see you. It was hard not to enjoy the beautiful landscape that passed by although your thoughts were racing, and your heart was restless. Back then you let your head rule thinking it would shield your heart from greater pain. But it never healed. Tyler was the ghost that haunted you wherever you went, no matter where you had run to, emerged in gun fire or sitting tight in a stake out somewhere in the harsh winter of Russia, he was always there with you – at least in your thoughts. You turned into an unpaved road which lead you to a small settlement. You passed by small houses, a bar and a store until you left the village behind. You had debated with yourself to stop at the bar to get a drink thinking the alcohol might soothe your nerves, but you needed to keep a clear head. You reached the coordinates as you pulled up in front of a little house secluded from the rest of civilization. Your heartbeat was fastening as you turned off the motor. It was almost dark now and a part of you still doubted if this was the right choice. It wasn’t too late to turn around and your hands were still on the steering wheel, grabbing it hard enough for the white in your knuckles to show. But you came all the way and you would not pull out now although you weren’t even sure what you expected from your visit. The only thing you knew was that you couldn’t get Tyler out of your head. You got out of your car and walked towards the small home, which was a nice way of saying a pile of wood and metal. You came to a stop on his front porch and closed your eyes while taking a deep breath before you eventually knocked on the door. But nothing happened, not even the slightest sound could be heard from the inside. A nudge on your leg ripped you out of your sudden sadness and you looked down to see a dog. “Hey there, little buddy. Do you know if Tyler is home?” You asked while leaning down to pet the doggo. And as if he had understood you, he raised his paw to scratch at the door. “Ohh, you live here?” You made the decision to not give up now and almost on an instinct you begin lifting up every flowerpot in hopes to find a key. You knew that Tyler had a habit of drinking a little too much, and you were right, under one of the pots was a key. He had probably left it there in case he forgot where his own was. You shook your head at this careless behavior by the mercenary but that was typical of him. You opened the door, letting the dog in, before stepping into the darkness of the house. “Tyler?” You called out his name to announce your presence. But only silence answered you. The thought that Nik might have been wrong crossed your mind before you quickly discarded it. If someone knew his whereabouts, it would be her. Maybe it just shouldn’t be. You turned around again, ready to leave, but in this moment the door opened, and Tyler appeared. Just like that he stood there. You haltered in your movement and for a moment the two of you just looked at each other. “Tyler, I…” But you got stuck with your explanation because he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. You and the dog were by his side in an instant. “Tyler, are you alright?” A grunt was his only answer as he tried to get up, but he immediately needed to lean against the wall to remain standing. “Come here, you have to sit down.” You wrapped an arm around his torso and pulled him off the wall. His heavy weight rested on you and you had trouble even getting him to his bed, which was the closest thing you could find to let him rest on. This reminded you so much of the past, only this time he was not nearly bleeding to death. You tried to gently place him on the bed, but he plopped down like a sack of potatoes. You went back to the door and found the light switch. You could only hear a groan in the back as a reaction to the sudden brightness. You then filled a glass with water and brought it to his side. Tyler had already sunken into his bed and had his eyes closed. Now the light laid bare the reason for his current state. He had a cut on his right eyebrow and his nose was bloody and his shirt was torn. But what concerned you way more was that blood now stained his sheets. So, scratch what you thought before, this definitely was a lot like some of your last encounters. You grabbed his hand, the source of the blood flow and looked at his palm. A gaping wound greeted you. “This needs stitches,” you concluded. “I’m fine.” An annoyed sigh escaped your lips. “Where is your emergency kit?” and before he could even start to debate with you, you added: “Tell me now or I will turn your house upside down.” “Nightstand.” He vaguely pointed in the direction beside his bed and you went over there and opened the drawers. At first you couldn’t find anything despite some pill bottles and other things. Only at the last drawer you finally laid eyes on the emergency kit, which turned out to be an oversized yellow lunchbox container. You opened it up and relief washed over you as you saw that most of the things you needed were still there. As you lifted the kit out and wanted to close the drawer a familiar picture caused you to pause. Your fingers gently picked it up and you stared at the faces of Tyler and you. He had his arm slung around your shoulder and was grinning at the camera while you looked at him with a loving expression. A pain went through your heart not only at the sight of how happy you once were but also as you saw that the side of the picture was burnt away and a black ruffled edge replaced what had once been the view over the mountains of Mexico. Tyler turned on the bed and you quickly put the picture on the bed before coming back to his side. You needed to tend to his hand first and then you would take care of his face. “Can you sit up?” He did as he was told for once and you went to his sink to fill a bowl with water. You cleaned his hand and disinfected the wound. But the blood was still flowing so you needed to work quickly. You sat down beside him and placed a cloth on your leg. You grabbed his hand and got to work, carefully stitching him up. Once in a while you looked at his face. His eyes were pressed shut and his jaw was clenched but these were the only signs of his pain. Now that you were so close to him you could clearly smell that whatever had caused his injury was probably to blame on alcohol and a bar fight. But the alcohol in his blood would at least numb most of the pain. “What are you doing here?” he mumbled as you cleaned off the blood from the now closed wound. “I am on vacation.” Despite not really answering his question it was also a lie. “Looking for a place in the sun, ey?” Another of those countless sighs left your lips. “She told you.” “I thought you wouldn’t come.” Now you looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a year. His eyes were still bright blue but to your disdain they still carried the same amount of pain as the last time you looked into them. You turned your gaze toward the emergency kit and drenched some cotton balls with disinfectant and dabbed them onto the cuts on his face which caused him to close his eyes again. You slowly placed your free hand on his cheek to support his head as the last blotches of blood disappeared. Nonetheless, he would have a black eye in the morning, you were sure of it. His skin was hot under your touch and his stubble scratched your palm. You brushed your fingers past the scar he had above his eyebrow and a nameless dread filled you deep inside. You let your hand linger a little longer than necessary. Suddenly you felt like you were back in a shabby motel somewhere in the middle East, patching him up as one of your missions turned out badly. It was a habit even before the two of you became involved with each other. How often you had been in these situations you couldn’t say. You physically shook your head, trying to rid yourself of those sentimental thoughts. “So, I am finished,” you stated before you distanced yourself while grabbing all the blood-stained utensils. You stood up and looked for a trash can in his kitchen. “Thank you.” “No worries, that’s what friends…” you stopped yourself mid-sentence. Did you really just want to say that’s what friends are for? You had been something more than friends before but now you weren’t even friends. You just let it go and left the sentence unfinished and washed your hands. The blood was slowly running down the drain. “I should go,” you uttered. “You just came.” He sounded exhausted and it almost pained you to disappoint him, but you just couldn’t relive the past. “I know but this was a mistake. I am sorry.” “So, you are just leaving? What were you doing here in the first place? And I don’t buy the ‘place in the sun’ bullshit, in case you haven’t noticed.” His voice was strained with anger and it sounded like he had regained his strength just to confront you. “You haven’t changed at all, Tyler.” You started to dry your hands with a kitchen towel, rubbing harder than necessary. You fixed your gaze on the darkness outside the window. You couldn’t look at him for what you wanted to say, afraid that otherwise you couldn’t pull through. “You know this is why I left. You just throw yourself in some situation that could get you killed. You don’t even care. I love you but apparently that was never enough for you. You still threw yourself in front of every bullet that came flying your way. And every time we were not together, I feared that I would get a call from Nik saying that you are dead in a ditch in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I don’t know what I am doing here, I don’t know why I came. I just…for some fucked up reason I can’t let you go. But I also can’t live with the thought that you go off on a mission and decide that that’s it.” Your chest was rising and falling as you tried to compose yourself again. “I am still here, am I not?” his voice was so near, and you turned around only to find him standing right behind you. You leaned against the counter to have some space, but you imagined that you could still feel the heat of his body radiating off him. You realized that what he said was true. He was still here, and that years’ time was lost. Time you could have spent with him. You were so afraid to lose him that you hadn’t realized that by pushing him away you lost him. “I think I need a drink now.” You brushed past him to his table where you poured yourself a drink, not caring what it even was. You walked back to the bed, not sure of what to do next. “Quit walking away from me, would you.” He exclaimed before heaving himself back to the bed. “Hmm.” Was all you had to say to that, but you still went to sit next him, turning around to grab the picture of the two of you that was laying on the bed behind you. You placed it on your lap and proceeded to pull the piece of paper with his address out of your pants to place it beside the picture. “Guess we both couldn’t bury the past.” A sad smile rested on your lips as you looked at the two remnants of your love. “You love me?” he suddenly asked. “What?” Now you were confused. “Earlier, you said you love me and not loved.” Realization hit you. You couldn’t believe that he caught that out of everything while being drunk. “That doesn’t matter.” You glanced down at your beverage, rotating the glass in your hand. “It does because I love you, too, (y/n).” Your eyes began burning from tears you couldn’t spill. This whole time you thought that love just wasn’t enough. But it had to be enough, at least for the night. “Did anybody ever tell you that you think too much?” You huffed out a quiet laugh at his question “Yeah, you, many times. And you…” you looked at him, the words being stuck in your throat at the sight of him. You couldn’t imagine being separated again. You felt too weak to run away again, the strength you had minutes ago had left you as soon as you sat down. He chimed in, placing a hand on your cheek: “... and I don’t think things through, I know. That’s why I need you.” His eyes travelled from your lips and you caught your breath for a moment. He leaned down to kiss you, but he paused just before your lips could meet and asked: “Will you stay?” You nodded your head slightly. It was all you were capable of before you closed your eyes and welcomed his lips pressing against yours. As you two separated he raised his fingers, tracing the side of your face. A smile lit up his face and the pain in his eyes seemed to have subsided, at least a little bit. You always loved his smile, which was a stark contrast to his usual brooding expression. You knew that when he looked at you like that you would fall for him over and over again. His smile turned into a grin before he said: “I think I sobered up quite a bit but tell me you love me again in the morning.” Maybe you found your place in the sun.

[bisexualstokes-archive]

Is it too personal or may I ask what the long story that got you back into George is?

honestly i could use this ask as a way to really sit back and reflect on what’s going on in my life so yeah here’s the story:

(warnings for depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts)

so going way back to my junior year of high school, september 2009-may 2010, that was like…one of the happiest years of my life. I had some really great friends at the time, family life (from what i remember) was more or less going okay (although i remember my parents were pissing me off when i was in driver’s ed), i was getting out more, things changed in my youth group and over all it was just a great year?? and CSI?? Season 10?? was so good?? 

and then my senior year of high school started, I got into some shit with not just one, but TWO of my friends, one of which I was like..in love with, and I was getting scared because Things Were Changing and I had all this pressure on me to get a job, go to college, etc, etc. (I also did start a job in the summer between my junior and senior years and I had a crush at this job and our relationship got Complicated and we never did anything, I sort of pushed him away cause I thought I was too young to be with someone who was a couple years older than me, and I was just scared about it in general.) But I was still watching CSI. I still loved it. I still loved Nick Stokes/George Eads.

And then came my first year of college, again, still watching CSI, and I was trying–oh god I was trying so hard to keep my anxiety under control as everything was changing, I was in a brand new school where I knew like…nobody (well a few people here and there–I went to a popular community college in my vicinity so I did see a few people from high school) and again getting this pressure to succeed in college cause college just wasn’t a thing people did in my family–not until everyone began to realize how important it was (some of my cousins went back to school and got degrees and such)

and I was also trying to do my best to keep in touch with my friends, trying to mend the cracks in the two friends I had beef with, but another friend–who I had since seventh grade at that point–and I were getting closer and closer (she’s my absolute BEST friend at this point in my life tbh and uhm yeah I don’t know where I would be without her but I’ll get to that later)

and I was still watching CSI, still in love with nick, etc etc–but I was also getting into another obsession…Doctor Who

Sophmore year of college?? I think this is where depression was starting to get to me a bit. 

I had absolutely NO idea what I wanted to with my life. Family still pressuring me to succeed, things were getting Complicated with that guy at work, I started another job–so I was working two jobs at one point in my life and going to school which is uh Fun. I can’t remember much but I do remember in general being a bit freaked out over having to change schools cause that was a New thing and I was not good with change (because of my anxiety)

SO then we come to my junior year of college, and so began my dangerous Apathy phase, where I didn’t give a shit that I was failing tests because I wasn’t studying because Doctor Who basically consumed my life. I didn’t care about myself–It’s such a little thing, but I stopped brushing my hair at one point and wasn’t taking care of my body the way I should have–I had never gone to the doctor since my high school days, so I never had regular check-ups 

things at this point had ended with my first job and I’ve never seen or spoken to that one guy that I have Regrets with–to this day I wish we gave it a shot tbh, cause he seemed like a geuninely caring, nice guy? (not without his faults of course) 

and also uh…I think this was the year I stopped having a regular period. 

I’m talking like…I didn’t have a period for months, and I sure as hell wasn’t pregnant

I also stopped watching CSI, for many reasons, for the way GSR was being handled, for the way Nick was getting the promise of all these interesting storylines but NEVER DID and watching Nick/George obviously going through his own shit (cause he definitely gained weight in that season–and NO JUDGEMENT FROM ME TBH cause I’m, uh…technically classified as obese myself), and again, I was also SUUUPER obsessed with doctor who to the point where it was probably hindering my life

at some point in 2015 i did get my period again and was like “OH LOOK I’M ALL GOOD ON THAT FRONT” probably cause this is when I entered my first almost-relationship, a frequent customer at the store I used to work at asked me out and it didn’t work out in the end cause he was um…idk just Not For Me (and a gross ass kisser) but then after that one period, it disappeared again.

OH but in 2015, when CSI ended, I did watch the finale–Immortality even though I was SUPER pissed about Nick being gone (I did go back and watch just his final scene and cried like a baby) and then proceeded to rewatch grave danger for the first time in years at that point–I actually documented that on my blog here lol (and I did all of that instead of studying for a test that I failed the next day lmao)

so blah blah blah had tons of shit going on until 2016, which was possibly the lowest point of my life in terms of depression/anxiety, even though I had finally graduated college, I got a full time job (the same one I’m in now, three years later, very successful I might add–I just got promoted last year and I’m held in very high esteem by many of my superiors so it gets happy)

but in this full time job, I was moved to third shift for a few months, and was forced to work with this one woman who I like DESPISED–although not completely at the time, but to this day I really just can’t stand her (thankfully she quit lol) 

so the third shift transition was rough enough, but at least I was into a new show–Person of Interest and I was having the Time of My Life with it but it really did start getting me to think about my depression and mental health, which up until that point I had been ignoring, despite that one friend I mentioned earlier having pointed out to me many times throughout 2015-2016 that I needed to go to therapy (and I just didn’t think it would work, I didn’t want to do it, my social anxiety was screaming FUCK NO the whole time)

also the trump election thing happened and uhm yeah there was that. Got into a LOT of heated discussions…and lost like ALL respect for my step-father (who you’ll still see me refer to as “dad” but i’m pointing out he’s my step father in this instance because I would be ashamed to be blood related to him)

and despite our uh, troubles, my dad did try to get me to watch Macgyver, telling me that “hey, nick stokes is in it!” 

but my depressed dumbass was like “oh really? nice” AND THEN DIDN’T WATCH IT LIKE A FUCKING MORON

and on top of that, my house got INFESTED with mice and my parents did nothing outside of setting up mouse traps but it was getting to a point where we found like…five mice in a day and I was starting to see them in the daylight (which is a sign you have an INFESTATION) and ALL of my belongings were getting mouse shit and pee on them (my room is right next to the kitchen) and I ended up purging A LOT of things (including a binder of friendship from the one friend I had trouble with in senior year–which man that hurt to get rid of ((side note, you know what really fucking hurts the most about breaking away from that friend? we’ve known each other since pre-school and I mentioned in tags before about how we do still talk and shit and i am one of her wedding bridesmaids and shit but yeah…not like it used to be)))

and i was getting to a point where I honestly?? just wanted?? to die??

I would say it was like, late 2016 where I was even starting to think of scenarios where I could just…like…disappear? kill myself? I just did not want to exist anymore

2017 came along, fresh start, I kept telling myself. Still had mice in the mouse, but I was fully aware of my mental health issues at this point, and was starting to really listen to my friend more and more, really starting to consider going to therapy (especially now that i had health insurance)

(and also I was beginning to realize I have Feelings for this friend as well–although I gotta wonder if it’s actual romantic love and just not intense friendship cause we really are close friends but like…I could also see us as more? if she were open to it? but I know she doesn’t feel that way about girls and she’s got her own shit to deal with, and i respect that so I never push it or bring it up)

and then? twin peaks: the return came along. Season 3, episode 3, “Call for Help” a fucking masterpiece of an episode and something just…CLICKED in me. Something made me realize, I need to call for help

and so I did. 

2017 was the year of therapy, in which I talked about a lot of the shit above, and then I stopped going in I think 2018? when the therapist moved away, but my sessions were getting farther and farther apart anyway, and I felt like I was finally in a better place in my life. I had more coping mechanisms, more awareness of how to handle myself, and I began to realize I really needed to take care of myself more

so i went to the doctor for the period thing, seems like it was some hormonal imbalance cause i was put on birth control to get my hormones back in order (this is my first month off of them so fingers crossed it still works) and by the time august/september rolled around? 

I started writing again

and I’m not talking fan fiction, I suddenly had the inspiration to write this original story idea I have for a series that was HEAVILY inspired by CSI–in which the third book in the series is about a guy getting buried alive (and a girl trying to save him but doesn’t because ANGST but that’s another long ass story lol)

which, naturally, made me want to watch grave danger again, for the first time in three years. and then…I suddenly wanted to watch more csi?? from the very beginning??

and so I watched the first four episodes of season 1 again, and Nick/George was back in my life again. And it felt SO FREAKING GOOD.

Then, I watched Macgyver because I wanted to see new George content, and immediately fell in love with jack

Caught up with Macgyver and then finished my csi rewatch, this time watching all of season 13 (which I STILL HAVE MIXED FEELINGS OVER just like season 9) and 14-15 (which i regret not watching when it first aired cause it’s SO GOOD)

and I’m not saying like…Nick/Jack/George is the sole cause of my happiness, the cure for my depression/anxiety (cause that shit never goes away, you just learn to manage it better), nor is he the sole love of my life or anything, but…he’s a huge part of who I am, because in those years, when I was struggling, I lost myself. I lost Nick. But now I found myself again, I re-discovered my passion for Nick Stokes, and i’m just as happy as I was back in 2009/2010, and life is just so good

[davidmann95]

Top 10 batman writers?

With particularly honorable mentions to Steve Englehart (his Batman wasn’t itself up my alley - though his Joker is another story altogether - but his significance is undeniable), Greg Rucka, Jeph Loeb (Hush was fun, dangit! Or at least it was fun to young entry-level DC reader me, which I understand has been its general underappreciated function over the years among fans), Peter Milligan, and Matt Wagner, as well as Dwayne McDuffie and Christopher Nolan outside of comics:

10. Scott Snyder

This’ll be a controversial one, no doubt about that. Look, Scott Snyder is easily one of my favorite superhero writers out there, and his Batman run is a favorite of mine. But judged as a Batman run specifically as opposed to a rip-roaring superhero book in general, his take is rather…specific. As he develops his voice on the character, his Bruce Wayne moves further and further into the territory of beleaguered 80s action hero, constantly freaking out and in over his head but always ready with a fast quip and a solid fist. His grasp of Batman’s thematic underpinnings is second to none, but while his execution of those ideas is just about always a blast, it’s surprisingly rare it feels on-point for the character as he’s existed elsewhere over 78 years. But I still can’t exclude the dude who wrote Court of Owls and Zero Year.

9. Bill Finger

Finger makes it by default; while I’m surprised myself that I’m putting him so low, that in and of itself is only a testament to the versatility and enduring power of the world and themes he built. But make no mistake, he’s not just here as a matter of being grandfathered in: aside from being one of the best done-and-one adventure writers Batman ever had, stories like The Origin Of Batman and Robin Dies At Dawn pack an emotional punch that resonate to this day.

8. Denny O’Neil

About as close as you can get to the founder of Batman as we know him today, aside from maybe my next pick. O’Neil hasn’t batted a hundred over the years, but when he’s on-point he’s as good as it gets, swinging between giddy pulp adventure and pitch-black noir that set the definitive template for what it is we expect out of Batman, and his interactions with several of his most important loved ones and enemies.

7. Frank Miller

In terms of characterization, Miller’s Batman is maybe best thought of in the same terms as the Golden Age comics - instrumental to Bruce Wayne as we understand him today, but recognizably not quite that guy yet. But Miller energized, mythologized, or outright invented a truly staggering degree of the fundamentals of Batman’s world, punctuated by moments of pure, distilled Batman-as-unstoppable-vengeance, whether hauling two hundred and twenty pounds of sociopath to the top of the highest tower in Gotham, bursting in on an upper-class mob meeting to deliver his statement of intent, or recalling what it takes to make the world make sense as he drives his best friends’ face into the Crime Alley pavement, with just enough humanity in there (accepting and nurturing Carrie Kelly as Robin, telling the kid not to swear, saving the cat in Year One and stopping a punk from falling off a fire escape and catching a beating for it) to keep it palatable.

6. Alan Brennert

If Miller defined the myth of Batman as we know it today, Brennert was the unsung hero who gave him his heart. While his work was minimal, the weight it carries in certain circles can’t be overstated - his Batman was emotionally raw like none before and few after, confronted with his traumas and the walls he had built around himself, and forced to confront himself and his relationships or lose everything. For The Autobiography Of Bruce Wayne alone, Brennert handily secures his place among the greats.

5. Darwyn Cooke

Cooke didn’t do a tremendous amount with Batman before his passing in terms of writing, but what there is is work for the ages. With his recreation of Night of the Stalker! he captures Batman at his brutal, haunting noir best, but it’s with Ego that his seizes his position in the top five with a comprehensive, insightful, and truly spooky look at the center of Bruce Wayne’s mind that says more about Batman with a single one-shot that most of his writers do in their entire careers.

4. Paul Dini

If you’re talking about drawing the straightest line between a writers work towards Batman as we know him today, perhaps no one has more of a claim to fame than Paul Dini. One of the braintrust behind Batman: The Animated Series and later a writer on the main books, he’s been behind armfuls of iconic, fan-favorite Batman stories of every genre permutation that solidified the caped crusader as we know him today: stoic, determined, brilliant, compassionate, and possessed of a jet-black wit that while sparsely deployed perfectly offset the horror surrounding him on all sides. Kevin Conroy is the Batman we all hear in our heads, and Dini put some of his best lines in his mouth before taking that skill to an underrated run on Detective Comics that deserves a spot among the greats.

3. Warren Ellis

EDIT: This was written prior to allegations against Ellis. While I’m not changing the list as this is a reflection of how I felt as I was making it, and the actions of the author don’t change the quality of the material now that it’s out in the universe, that qualification feels necessary.

I’ll be upfront with all of you: I am as surprised as anyone that Ellis is placing so high here. Hell, his first Batman story, a two-parter in Legends of the Dark Knight early in his career, was notably lackluster by his usual standards, and it makes up a significant percentage of his output (even if you count his Moon Knight run with Declan Shalvey as de facto Batman comics, which I absolutely do). But I thought about his other Batman stories - the first-ever Black and White feature with Jim Lee, and the Planetary crossover - and asked myself one by one, “are you better than X writer’s entire cumulative, often revolutionary Batman output?” And dammit if the answer didn’t keep being “yes”. What it comes down to is that he is to Batman as Garth Ennis is to Superman: a writer without much love for the superhero genre (though Ellis seems to have come to terms with it as a perfectly acceptable storytelling delivery system, as opposed to Ennis’s more pronounced disdain) who in a couple fits and spurts found the one character they seem capable of genuinely investing in, and whether people noticed it or not absolutely rocked it beyond comprehension in their time with them. Ellis found through Batman a perfect conduit for his righteous anger with the cruelties of the world, nailing his cunning, his cool demeanor, his vicious humor, his anger, his sympathy, his ability to inspire fear and awe in equal measure, and in the best Batman scene of all time, he articulated better than any writer before or after him why Bruce Wayne fights, and what for. Combined with his Moon Knight as a window as to how he might handle the character on a month-by-month basis that became an all-time great run unto itself, plus his excellent showing in Ellis’s arc of JLA Classified, and I just can’t make myself rank him any lower than this.

2. Tom King

The newest entry to the list, Tom King already had plenty of love when he came onboard thanks to Grayson, Omega Men, and Vision, but he was stepping into some of the most titanic shoes in the industry in Scott Snyder’s wake. But not only did he live up to that standard, he’s soared far beyond, with a thoroughly human and determinedly unconventional look at the degree to which Bruce has hindered himself emotionally for the sake of his mission and the toll of a neverending war on his mind. Ranging from fist-pumpingly cool to unrelentingly grim, profound to self-consciously silly, and managing to be soul-curdlingly cold and shamelessly tender in equal measure, Tom King not only finds the heart of Batman as few others have, but does so through one of the characters’ boldest, most technically spectacular, and refreshingly honest runs.

1. Grant Morrison

Just as much as he is with Superman, Grant Morrison simply is The Batman Writer. I’ve written at extensive length on his work here before, so in short: Morrison’s Batman is the best run a major Big Two character has ever received by miles and one of the best in comics period. He writes Batman as a mystery, as a thriller, as a pulp action romp, as sci-fi, as psychedelic spy warfare, as pure superheroics, as lurid horror, and as one man’s attempt to transcend himself through the ideal his symbol embodies and its ability to inspire others. He played with the symbols and themes underpinning Bruce Wayne like none other, he not only perfectly nailed Batman’s character but imposed a character arc over the whole of his publishing history, he touched on every corner of his world while carving out entirely new and unique spaces, and he left behind an honest-to-god epic that’s visibly influenced every major comics take since. There is simply no comparison of his work to anyone else’s, and I sincerely question if there ever will be - even more than his work defined Superman for me (and his Superman work includes my absolute favorite work of fiction period), his Batman is the Batman that lives in my head.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 21; Two wolves in love

AWWWWWWWWWWW And now we get to some major fluff of romance. Now I took inspiration from a certain Irish ASMR youtuber by the name of Gaelforce audio for some of Rauri’s dialogue because since both he and Aidan are Irish I thought, wth not. Anyways I hope you guys are enjoying these updates and I’ve only got one more chapter after this before this book is complete. Enjoy my lovelies only warning is make out sessions. Picture is NOT mine and imagine both of them as black wolves.

_____________________________________________________

The next morning the sun began to rise over the land and peek through the curtains of my room.  Lying on the bed was Rauri and I, my head resting on his chest cuddled up close to him with his arms wrapped around me and my arms wrapped around him.  I woke up for a brief moment to see Rauri still asleep.

Oh my god he looked so handsome even in his sleep. His features so relaxed and at peace, he looked like an Adonis.  I felt my heart flutter and beat rapidly before I softly kissed his jawline and rested my head back on his chest right over his heart.  

It was then I heard him moan tiredly and his arms wrapped around me tighter so I decided to pretend that I was asleep.

“(Y/n)?” I didn’t answer him because I wanted to see what he would do exactly. “(Y/n)~, come on I know that was you, there’s no one else that would kiss me like that”. I felt him place a kiss to my forehead before slowly going down my nose, giving me a soft peck on each of my cheeks before finally teasing the corner of my lips. “You gonna wake up for me now, hmm?” I heard his coo. 

And his Irish accent made him sound even more attractive and make my stomach turn in flips.  I almost caved in right then and there but I wanted to wait just a little bit longer.

“Guess I’m gonna have to go to plan B”. Suddenly I felt his hands go to my waist and gently squeeze them which made me instantly wake up and he now ended up on top of me grinning down at me saying, “There you are”. 

“Who told you?” I demanded.

“No one, I just wanted to see for myself. Good to know I now have a leverage against you”.

“I swear to God Rauri if you ever tickle me I won’t be responsible for super barking you across the jungle”.

“Well we wouldn’t want that now do we?” The two of us smiled at each other before looking into each other’s eyes.  Rauri leaned downward and captured my lips with his. My heart fluttered at his soft lips against mine then he separated from me before saying.  “Last night was the best night I have ever had in years”.

“Me too”. I went to reach my left hand to cup his face when I realized I was using my metal arm.  I paused and went to hide it but Rauri took my metal wrist gently and held it tightly in his hand and gave my fingers soft kisses.

“You don’t need to hide this from me my love, I love this arm because it is a part of you, the part that makes you so strong. Plus I find it very sexy on you”. He winked at that last statement which made me blush.  I heard him chuckle and he pecked my lips lovingly and he continued, “In all seriousness though, you never have to be afraid of showing your arm to me, you’re allowed to be naked in front of me. And what I mean by that is, you can be yourself, show me the real you, every day for the rest of our lives”.

I reached up and cupped his face in my hands and I stroked his cheeks with my thumbs and he held both my hands with his as the two of us looked at each other like love sick puppies.

“Rauri I—I have something to confess”.

“Anything my love, you can tell me anything”.

“I—Last night it—”

“It’s okay, you can tell me mo chroí”. I took a deep breath in through my nose and said to him.

“My whole life ever since I was eight, I had never had the experience of doing things that normal teenage girls got to experience, their first boyfriend, first kiss or even first time having sex. Because Hydra had other plans for me, then of course I joined the Avengers and didn’t really have enough time to go out on the town and date. But last night—it was the most magical night of my life and then—when we kissed…..Oh my God I can’t even describe it, it was beyond anything I had ever read about or had been told about. But I—I still don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do and I……I feel like one day you’ll grow tired of me because I’m technically a war criminal not to mention deceased to certain people and I—”

“You don’t have to explain anymore (y/n), I get it. More than you think, I was taken by Hydra too remember? I barely had time to date and even when I did, I was the dorkiest of dorks”. Rauri laughed softly which in turn made me laugh. He then stroked some of my hair out of my face and continued, “I don’t expect anything from you. All I want is your happiness and I hope I can be the best boyfriend and lover you could ever ask for your first time. And if I’m moving too fast for you, don’t hesitate to tell me, because I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t feel comfortable with”.

“Thank you babe”. I brought him down towards me and our lips connected again as we kissed each other passionately.  Just as the kiss was starting to get heated up, my door opened and Bucky’s voice rang out.

“Hey Wolfie Shuri wanted to know when—whoa okay off my little sister now Big Bad!” Rauri and I stopped and Rauri rolled off of me and I stared at Bucky wide-eyed.

“What the hell Barnes!? You can’t just go walking into my room like that! What if we were naked?” 

“Then I’d grab my rifle and chase that son of a bitch out of here while covering you up in all of your clothes plus the blankets”. I groaned in embarrassment as Rauri cleared his throat and said.

“It’s fine, I gotta go meet with Conner anyway, see you later this afternoon?” he said to me.  I nodded then he pecked my lips again and got out of my bed before walking out of my room but not before nodding to Bucky and leaving my room. Bucky shut my door as I got out of bed and he came up to me and cupped my chin and turned it side to side.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for any love bites or hickies, just because I let you date him doesn’t give him the right to mark you, believe me I know how guys like him work”.

“Calm down Bucky bear, he was basically you and Steve combined, the golden boy any father or brother would be lucky to date their little girl. He didn’t pressure me or anything, we just shared a kiss and fell asleep cuddling together. He even said he wasn’t gonna pressure anything on me since this is my first real relationship”. He looked at me and he said. 

“Alright, but I’m still gonna look at the surveillance video from last night just to make sure he got you home at a reasonable time”.

“Fine so long as you don’t install a hidden camera or heat sensor in here”.

“How did you know about the heat sensor?” I looked at him in shock before he smirked at me and said, “I’m kidding!” I punched him in the chest and went to change out of my dress into casual clothes and headed towards the lab to work with Shuri on my armor. 

A week later, I was in the training grounds practicing my forms and combinations when I heard Rauri’s voice say.

“I definitely fell for a badass warrior Princess”. I smirked and said.

“Warrior? Yes, badass? Hell yes, Princess? Not likely”. I turned to face Rauri and he said as he walked up towards me.

“Why must you deny the endearments I give you?” He wrapped his arms around me bringing me closer to him before capturing my lips in his. I shrugged and as we separated Rauri asked me, “So what did Shuri want to see you for”.

“Oh just business”.

“What kind of business?”

“None of your business”.

“Ahhh c’mon baby can’t you even give me a little hint?” Rauri begged.

“Nope it’s classified intel that you can’t make me say”.

“Awww please baby, I promise I won’t tell anyone what it is. What’s got my smart and pretty girl so occupied almost every day in the mornings?” I hummed then I said with a smirk.

“I’ll tell yah, if you wrestle me for it”. Rauri looked at me flabbergasted and he repeated my statement.

“You want to wrestle for it? You’re serious yeah?”

“Dixie-chick serious, what you scared big man? ‘Fraid you’re gonna get your Irish ass whooped by an American girl?” I mocked playfully.

“Alright now you’re askin for trouble”.

“Rauri’s a scaredy cat! Rauri’s a scaredy cat!” I began to taunt then he said.

“Okay I accept, but just playfully cause otherwise this’ll turn into a wolf fight cage match for sure”.

“Great so ground rules. No wolf forms allowed, no powers allowed, and no hitting below the belt, make it a clear fight”.

“Deal, whomever pins who for three wins, so if I win you tell me what you and Shuri work on together”.

“And if I win, you have to buy my lunch till the end of the week, deal?”

“Deal” we shook on it then stood before each other and began circling each other.  “Come on bring it on, c’mon!”  The two of us then began duking it out like real wrestlers in the ring.

Throwing punches and kicks at each other and getting into each other’s faces gloating about how each of us was gonna pin the other down.  Soon Rauri just had to play dirty and loosen himself up by removing his shirt leaving him shirtless before continuing to come at me.

“Oh God you mean business don’t yah? I can hardly keep up with yah”. He said as I held his wrists in my hands tightly.

“When it comes to Intel secrets I’ll fight to the death”.  I then kicked him in the gut sending him a ways back before running at him and like Natasha I flipped myself onto him and used my momentum to pull him down to the ground and pin him.

“Whoo baby. Oh my god I should not underestimate you!”

“Learned that from Black Widow herself, now then where was I? Oh yeah. 1…..2….” Suddenly I was kicked off and sent rolling across the floor.

“Betcha didn’t see that kick coming huh? Ahahaha!” We both stood up and circled each other again as Rauri taunted at me, “Come on bring it on, bring it on bad girl”. I smirked and went charging at him but suddenly Rauri flipped over me and grabbed my arm and brought me into a headlock before kicking my leg in hard enough to kneel to the ground but not hard enough to break my leg.“You know I’m getting that information out of yah you know that right?”

“In your dreams” I stated.

“Yeah and I’m gonna pin yah for it, like this”. He then pulled another dirty trick and began kissing my cheek and going towards my ear and he began whispering Gaelic deep into my ear.   

I let out a moan and tried to get out of his hold but Rauri held on strong before I was sent down to the ground and Rauri was now hovering over me.

“That was low even for you”.

“You never said seduction couldn’t be used my love”. He then began kissing me with so much passion I almost forgot that we were in the middle of a match. “So you gonna tell me what you and Shuri do, hmm?” Rauri cooed softly. “What does my sexy and smart Alpha girl do in that big laboratory with the Princess of Wakanda?”

“Not….telling” I moaned out through Rauri’s kisses as they began trailing down my neck. I heard him hum and he whispered.

“Well then, let me take those hands,” he took each of my wrists and then pinned them over my head continuing, “And pin them down, just like that. One…..two…..” Rauri then leaned in and captured my lips in his. 

He moaned which sent a shiver down my spine as our kiss got deeper and more passionate.  His wolf growls coming out in his human form made my stomach do such flips and made my inner She-wolf come out and want more of him.

“Yeah I’ll get that Alpha girl out of you, I’ll get her out of yah” Rauri moaned as his hands began to wonder around my sides. At that moment, I pulled my own trick.

As I separated and began kissing down Rauri’s neck making him moan and chuckle softly as well as growl.  I wrapped my arms around his back and slowly clawed down his bare back making him arch and at that moment I made my move as I flipped him over with great speed and hover over him.  Rauri laughed and threw his head back as he said.

“Oh my god that was amazing”.  Then just to make sure he got who won this challenge, I gave him a couple of slaps across his handsome face and he just grinned up at me before saying, “Okay baby I’ll say it, you are the champion,” he sat up and captured my lips with his before whispering against my lips, “You’re my champion”.

“Damn straight I am, now I believe you owe me lunch for the next week?”

“As agreed and I’m not complaining”. I got off of him but he brought me back down beside him making me giggle and he hovered over me before capturing my lips again.  “God I love you so much (y/n), my beautiful She-wolf”.

“I love you too Rauri, my tall, dark and handsome black wolf”. He smirked and nuzzled his nose against mine and he phased into his wolf form which made me turn as well and the two of us nuzzled and licked each other lovingly before running off into the jungle together. 

As more weeks passed by, and the weeks soon turned to months, Rauri and I felt like we were on cloud nine together.  I had never been more in love with anyone and I thought having a romantic relationship was far beyond my reach and that I would miss having the one thing everyone wishes to have, but Rauri has been my saving grace and I couldn’t ask for a better man than him.

Every day with him is something new, whenever I wasn’t busy training or working with Shuri on my armor (and that day after the wrestling match between us, I went ahead and told Rauri what he wanted to know and he wished to see it once it was completed) he’d always have a special little picnic out or leave a beautiful flower in the lab or in my room for me with a cute little rhyme or poem.

Tonight, Rauri and I were out in the plains staring up at the Aurora Borealis dance across the sky.  The sky glowing a beautiful violet and blue which made Rauri appear more handsome.  He turned towards me and he asked me.

“What is it?”

“Just you” I reached up and brushed a stray curl of hair out of his face and said, “and all your Adonis glory”. 

“Nah not really”.

“Oh so I can’t be insecure of when you compliment me but you can when I compliment you” I mocked.

“It’s different”.

“Bullshit how is it different?”

“Because I’m always looking at a true beauty inside and out, me on the other hand……” I took notice that something was off about him tonight so I said to him.

“Hey, you know whatever it is you can tell me right?” He looked at me with shameful eyes but he leaned towards me and captured my lips with his in a kiss as he cupped my face.  I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him deeper into the kiss.

*3rd Person POV*

Unbeknownst to (Y/n) they were being watched from beyond the plains.  A man with slick, short black hair, a beard starting to grow around his jaw stared at the two of them saying.

“Do it. What are you waiting for Rauri? Do it already!” He clenched his fists tightly only to see Rauri and (y/n) separate from their kiss and cuddle up to each other.  The man growled then took off running but surprisingly he turned into a big black dog. 

Hidden within a warehouse, a fearsome cry was heard and there stood Conner himself.

“You’re sure Russo?”

“No question, I saw it with my own eyes”. The man known as Russo said to Conner.  Conner snarled and turned his back on Orion and snarled out.

“Rauri cannot betray us!” His eyes suddenly phased snake-like as a snake hiss came from out of his throat. 

Later that night, after Rauri had dropped (y/n) off at her room and kissing each other goodnight, Rauri snuck out of the facility and ran in wolf form into the woods. 

He stopped at a clearing and he heard Conner’s voice hiss.

‘You’re stalling mate!’ Rauri phased back into his human form and said.

“I know I keep saying this will be it but I still need more time to win her trust….”

‘YOU’VE HAD PLENTY OF TIME!! You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?’

“No Conner I’m…..”

‘Stalling Rauri. Tomorrow, bring her out here to me and we settle this once and for all. Do it or I will do it tonight in her sleep!’

“YOU LEAVE HER ALONE CONNER!! We agreed it has to be me, I promise you tomorrow first thing I’ll bring her here”.

‘You better, wouldn’t want my best mate’s girl to suddenly fall into a terrible accident late at night, now would we’.  Rauri hissed in pain as revealing itself from his neck was a symbol of a snake and his eyes suddenly turned wolf gold but instead of full blown black pupils, they were straight and dagger like, almost like a snake.

“No Conner” Rauri stated soullessly like he had no conscious anymore.

‘Good now get back there so no one suspects anything, and remember Rauri. No stalling this time’.

“Yes”.

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Honeymooners pt 1

Gonna turn this into a multi chapter thing since it’s getting kinda long. The prompt about reader and Loki going undercover as honeymooners at a fancy honeymoon destination that I said I’d write forever ago but didn’t get around to

(So if you’re going under cover for anything, you’d probably want fake names, but I don’t want to make up fake names and I like using Loki’s name so yea...)

A loud ringing from your nightstand roused you from your deep sleep. Your eyes opened instantly, years of training instantly putting you on alert as you recognize a mission briefing call. "I'm here." You answered.

 "Agent, good, head up to the debriefing room," Mariah Hill's voice came through the speaker, "we have your next assignment."

You nodded, the last traces of sleep leaving you as you remembered she couldn't see. "Should I grab my partner?"

"Not yet, he's getting a debriefing packet but there's classified information we need to go over with you separately."

You raised an eyebrow. Loki, god of mischief, currently tasked with aiding SHIELD for glorified community service and thus your partner on most missions, would be debriefed separately? If you were working together, wouldn't the logical thing be to brief you simultaneously so any ideas the other had or questions could be addressed together? You knew better than to ask questions though, Mariah would just end up repeating her orders. "Understood, I'll be there in ten."

"Hurry, your transport leaves in two hours, everything you need is packed, so this debriefing has to be fast."

You sighed as she hung up, failure to plan on SHIELD's part always warranted an emergency on your part. Hopefully the travel time would be long so you and Loki could fill each other in on anything that had been missed. Still, something about separate briefings disturbed you. No sense in worrying about it now though, time was ticking and you still needed to shower.

Ten minutes later, you were rushing into the briefing room where Mariah sat at a long high-tech table, a TV screen displaying a mountain lodge behind her. "Recognize it?" Mariah asked, looking up as you entered.

You stared at the screen blankly, searching your memory. The lodge seemed familiar in a dreamlike way, but nothing truly stood out.

"Not sure, your history and all, but some little girls grow up planning their dream weddings and honeymoon vacations."

You frowned glancing between her and the screen. "I'd never really thought about it, I guess. Marriage might come some day, but I've had other things to worry about. Maybe friends planned their's..." You trailed off, not sure what she was getting at.

Mariah smiled, "don't worry, it's not a test, just was wondering if you recognized it. That's the location of your mission. 'Lover's Lodge, Honeymoon Resort', honeymoon destination of only the wealthiest and luckiest clients. It's such a destination resort that any who attend have to prove they've been married in the last 48 hours. Officially they prefer 24, but occasionally travel gets interrupted and they felt like expanding the inclusion list. Newlyweds plan their weddings around when there's space available here, very exclusive."

"I'll bet." You crossed your arms, not wholly impressed. Sure it was an interesting place to visit, presumably anyone lucky enough to be an actual guest would enjoy it, but that type of feather in your cap didn't particularly interest you, not when you'd been told of an impending mission and you were very much single. Sure you pined after a guy, but he was millennia out of your league and definitely didn't return the feelings. Plus with your busy work schedule, dating really had taken a back seat to your plans.

"So what's the mission?" You finally prompted.

Mariah blinked, "there's underground seismic activity. Gamma levels are off the charts. We have reason to believe a magical portal of sorts is open in an underground area. The lodge itself exists in a weird jurisdiction and since the portal is believed to be magic in nature, we need your partner to investigate it."

"Loki."

She nodded, "he's uniquely equipped to handle magical enemies and we don't particularly trust him to do anything solo. The god of lies title and history inspires a great deal of understandable distrust."

You shrugged, "fair enough. I trust him though."

"Which makes you uniquely suited to operate as his partner, as well as the other portion of this undercover operation."

You were starting to get a headache, she seemed to be hinting at something without daring to say the actual nature of what she meant. "So we're undercover as work staff?"

Mariah smiled thinly, "I was hoping you might've guessed... no, the owner needs to be investigated to see if he has any part to play in the operation of this portal and the background checks and period of time it would take to sneak you into the workforce would be far too long."

"So?" You prompted, mind not quite working.

"I need you to go undercover as guests. Far more freedom to move around this way."

You swallowed hard, mind reeling. "But guests have to be newlyweds..."

Mariah held up a sheet of paper. Warily, you took it from her, examining it carefully. There in crisp new letters, signed by the state of New York, lay your full name married to Loki Laufeyson. You looked up at her stunned, "what the hell is this?"

"Less than 48 hour old marriage license between you and Loki, thought that was clear. We have wedding pictures as well as several witnesses that can attest the validity of your wedding."

"You married me to Loki without either of us knowing?" No wonder they didn't want Loki in attendance, he was sure to be pissed.

"It's forged, but will fool the admissions there, we snuck a different couple in several weeks ago to make sure. You're going undercover as a newlywed couple, enjoying all the amenities and making sure to close that portal and if necessary, remove the owner from his position, assuming he is involved. Think of it as a working vacation."

"With an ornery god, you do know Loki isn't going to be pleased."

"It's a six hour car trip, you'll have plenty of time to warn him. And it's by limo, refrigerator and bar fully stock, all expenses paid."

"What if I refuse?"

"You'll be out of a job." Mariah glared at you.

Your eyes flashed, "I'm one of your most loyal and successful agents, one refusal and I'm out on the streets?"

Mariah sighed, "no, you'll be heavily reprimanded and demoted, pay cut and put on leave, but please, you're the only one qualified to do this, we need you."

"You need Loki."

"He won't work with anyone else, there's no punishment we can give him, all of it has to be willing. Even threat of returning to prison on Asgard hardly bothers him. Please, he seems to like you."

You grit your teeth, that was the bitter crux of it. That Loki considered you an acquaintance of sorts but would never share your feelings. To have to openly act as though you were madly in love with him, only to return to hiding your feelings would kill you. Worse, Loki would either pretend to go along with it and not see how badly it tore you apart each moment, or he would refuse because ultimately he couldn't even tolerate you as a friend. Nothing of this mission wouldn't end extremely painfully for you. "Fine, but I'm getting another more expensive vacation after this."

"It's practically a vacation already, other than the portal."

"And an obstinate Loki. That's the only way I'm agreeing." You crossed your arms.

"We'll take it up with Fury, no absolute promises, but I'm sure we can manage something."

"Good."

By the time your conversation ended, you were becoming pressed for time. You practically flew out of the room, rushing down the many stairs and out to the waiting limo that Loki sat in, already looking annoyed. His arms were crossed as he glared sullenly out the tinted windows, fingers tapping in time to some unheard beat. "Sorry," you panted, scrambling in beside him. A soft smile touched the corners of his mouth upon seeing you, "got held up with Mariah."

Loki nodded, "for a moment, I was worried they might send a replacement for you."

"Can't get rid of me that easily." You winked, settling in as the car lurched forward.

Loki nodded curtly, that smile once more returning. "I take it there's a reason we were informed separately."

"Oh yea, and you're just going to love it." Sarcasm dripped heavily from your tone and Loki raised his eyebrow curiously. Over the next hour you and Loki shared the various information regarding the specifics of the mission finally coming to the part you dreaded most.

"But all this could just as easily have been told together, why the separation?" Loki mused.

"It's our cover," you sighed heavily, lifting up the marriage certificate. Loki frowned, "I suppose I didn't think we'd spend long there." You shook your head, "part vacation since it's a resort and SHIELD is cheap, and we need to investigate the owner as guests. It's easier than getting us jobs apparently."

Loki squinted at the paper, "we're married?" He looked up at you and blinked.

You popped the cork off the bottle you'd been struggling to open, "only technically," you said taking a long swill. "It's a forgery but best in the business. Sorry to do that to you, only way they could think of apparently."

Loki shrugged, "I could think of worse covers."

You looked at him, mid drink. Slowly you removed the bottle, "really?"

"They could have placed me with a different agent, which would be insufferable."

You laughed, "yea, I guess." Still your heart ached, not sure how to vocalize your feelings.

Loki could see the sadness in your eyes but didn't seem to realize what caused it. "What if we made it into a competition?"

"A competition?" You repeated.

"Whoever appears the better and more in love spouse, the winner."

You winced internally but you knew you loved a good challenge. Almost unwittingly, you heard yourself answer, "you're on, I'm going to kick your ass at this."

"My love, that you could think to hurt me?" Loki placed his hand over his heart in shock.

You scowled, "you didn't say we started yet!"

"Fair enough agent."

"What's the loser have to do?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something." Loki smirked.

Scoffing, you retorted, "yea right, I'm going to win."

The car ride passed uneventfully, you and Loki having plenty of the finer details of the mission to discuss and plan. "So it's in a sort of mountainous area, built on a number of natural hot springs that make for quite the scenic hot tubs."

Loki pursed his lips, "perhaps we might skip the hot tubs?"

You stared at him blankly, "and sauna? I gather?"

Loki nodded, "I don't care for heat much." He trailed off, looking away. You didn't press him, but he had alluded to not tolerating heat in the past, perhaps this was related.

"It's built over an inactive volcano, I believe, dig deep enough and you'll find lava but no worries of eruption in my life time. At least that's what SHIELD's experts seem to think."

"Is that related to the portal?"

"More like a fun fact." You shrugged, "and a tram that can take guests down to the beach, only an hour's ride. Sunbathing could be fun."

Chuckling, Loki reached for his drink, "I'm sure the number of newlyweds enjoying the sunset will be amusing."

"Probably. The tram doesn't stop, every half hour all night. Midnight swims on a clothing optional beach." You swallowed hard, trying not to picture Loki partaking in that.

"They really are encouraging intimacy everywhere, aren't they?" Loki blinked, studying you.

The look he gave you was so intense, you found yourself turning away, if only to hide your blush. "Guess so. At least no one will check on whether or not guests do, right?" You forced a weak laugh.

Loki nodded thoughtfully, "that would be awfully invasive of them."

Sleeping with Loki, or rather sleeping with Loki had only briefly crossed your mind. It would be hard to get around not sharing a bed but two mature adults could handle that surely, but if anyone noticed? That would be the final nail in your coffin to fake sex with Loki just to maintain your cover, or real but wasn't mutually desired.

"Agent?" Loki prompted, pulling your mind back to the present.

"Meeting the owner might be challenging if he's behind the portal." You forced yourself to change the subject. "Though I believe he greets each couple personally during their stay, guess we'll have to meet as many couples as possible to increase our chances of running into him."

Loki sighed, resting his chin on his fist, "wonderful, socializing with mortals."

-

“Oh! Loki!” You paused, “I mean, darling look! We’re here I think!”

Loki straightened up, roused from his bored stupor and followed your pointing finger out the window. For the past half hour, the limo had been winding its way slowly upwards through a forested mountainside and it had at long last shown signs of nearing a massive resort. The picture Mariah had shown you really didn’t do the place justice for its size and splendor, anyone fortunate enough to visit would definitely have to pay a small fortune.

Loki chuckled at your pet name for him, “So we have, congratulations on our first day of marriage.”

You reached for your phone and opened it, noticing a barrage of pictures featuring you and Loki photoshopped into a number of wedding poses. It had been a small, private affair apparently, contrasting notably with the amount that would go towards the honeymoon but it was evidently about the two of you and no one else.

Loki leaned against you, staring down at the pictures. You could feel your cheeks heating in a blush at the close proximity, you had been this close before and managed to hide your feelings, why was it suddenly different? You silently admonished yourself.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Loki murmured, tilting his head to the side. His long hair brushed against your cheek and you fought back a shiver. “Somehow, I think the dress would look better on the actual you, not this model they chose.”

You furrowed your brows, surprised by the sincerity of the compliment. Opening your mouth, you looked up to ask him if he was acting or meant it but Loki’s attention was already back to the sprawling grounds of the resort. Your mouth fell shut and you stayed quiet.

The limo finally rolled to a stop, the door opening as the two of you scrambled out. Loki left first, turning around and offering you his hand to help you, placing a gentle kiss on it before allowing you to straighten up completely out of the car.

You closed your eyes, praying silently for patience, strength to make it through this mission, then slowly opened them and beamed at Loki. The flirtatious giggle came easy to you as you leaned forward and pecked his cheek. Loki stiffened for a moment, before sinking into your touch as though it were the most natural thing ever.

“Do you have the marriage license, love?”

“Right here, sweetie.” You giggled again, waving it for him.

Loki pursed his lips, eyes darkening, clearly not amused by the pet name. If you were going to suffer, dying for this to be real, you might as well punish Loki with cute names. A hotelier approached as the two of you stood there, no time to turn back now.

[poppun-chan]

The Year of Keroro Challenge Update 5 (Yes Sir)

We’re Back! Actually this one was much easier than the last when I actually had the chance to work on it. Either way I’m going to be doing this a little bit differently, the end result will still be the same it’s more a difference in the production process so it will be easier to catch up.

On that note I had a bit of a surprise, I thought I was going to have several bits of writing to cover between the “Room of Reflection” and Labbie’s dry erase board on uses for bread crusts, but now it turns out both of those were more or less covered by Funimation (A few of the room of reflection notes seem to have been missed) so I have a whole bunch of unexpected free space now which I’d like to use to thank everyone who has been following my updates....And to give a special mention to DeadofFrogs who has been commenting on all of them, I just wanted to let you know that I do read and appreciate your comments, even if I can’t always think of something to say in response.

And now as usual, the plan count:

Serious Plans: K66:18 D66:1 MMK:1 TMM:1 (The anime one was a bit hard to classify since it could also be a funding one)

Funding Plans: K66:2

It’s a plan, I Swear!: K66:6 (I threw the birthday one in for good measure) 

Oh look! Progress!: K66:3

Also I somehow forgot to bring this up last time but in regards to episode 22, has anyone else realised this? It’s a bit odd that Tamama made such a big deal out of being leader since, unless he’d have to cross Momoka in the process, he technically has an army of sorts at his disposal already in the form of Momoka’s bodyguards (speaking of which, I wonder how he kept everything from that episode from getting back to her)

Episode 29: Oh goodness this episode is just full of fun little easter eggs....And Keroro’s acting, that’s just hilarious. Either way the first is Keroro parody Chigusa Tsukikage, the acting mentor from the shoujo manga “Glass Mask” who has a similar hairstyle to the one Keroro wears in the episode to hide the burn marks on her face. Rabbie’s bit about uses for bread crusts is a nod to a trope in Japan that a staple food for poor characters is the bread crusts that bakeries throw away when making their sandwiches (They sell crust-less sandwiches)

I remember somebody mentioning that the members of the Newspaper club are likely inspired by the human children from Doraemon (less Nobita), and I can sort of see that; but more than that has anyone else noticed the small animal they test the device on looks a bit like Ryo-ohki from the Tenchi series? No really, look at it.

Episode 30: Now let’s all be honest with our ourselves, this episode represents our worst case scenario when meeting our online friends; we all say it’s finding out the other person is really a creep twice our age sporting a moose hat or a serial killer or something like that, but after several years we can assume such people would have lost patience. No, secretly the thing we dread the most is having the other person meet the people we see everyday and reference all the times we’ve vented our frustrations over things they’ve done. 

Oh! One thing I noticed was that Taruru mentions being the representative of the 4th year group, not the kindergarten group....granted that doesn’t really tell us that much; in Japan only elementary school has a 4th year, but since Keron is a different planet altogether they could have a fourth year of middle school or high school, or it could be a system where the first year of training starts much later than you’d except (maybe around 11 or 12). Another is at the end Tamama says “Our Generation’s Turn”, not “Your Generation”, but the Funimation release’s subtitles fixed that anyway (my guess it is was a typo, it does make more sense with “Our” though since the age gap between the two doesn’t seem to be that big)

Moving along to part b, regardless of your stance on these sort of things and whether we should show developing characters being insecure about their appearances and working through it or whether we should have them always be satisfied with it no matter what (I lean more towards the former, it covers the people who arrive at insecurities on their own), can we just take a moment to look at Momoka’s Mother? She more or less looks the way Momoka wants to and considering the other ways she takes after her Mother, just waiting a few years to see what happens seems a viable option (Though I have to admit I never understood when other girls compared their appearances to adult women; it’s like comparing a kitten and a cat, you’re a similar thing but you’re not there yet). I have to admit I never really went through this though, my parents didn’t really draw much attention to these things and there’s quite a lot I didn’t notice about my appearance until I turned 20 (Plus I had a back brace I wore most of the day from ages 9-15 because my back muscles weren’t strong enough and after it came off most of the major changes had already happened, like a butterfly)

Episode 31: Aww! This one was quite cute, really there’s no other way I can describe it, this episode has a lot of really adorable moments between Keroro’s excitement over his space craft, the effort he goes through to make it back with his souveneer, and the moments with the narrator. And of course the two sweetest moments of the episode: the interaction with the Mojajin had the same sort of charm as seeing somebody pay a backhanded, yet sincere compliment and seeing Natsumi go searching for Keroro was adorable as well. I’m going to admit, when I first watched the series Natsumi’s way of handling the aliens rubbed me the wrong way and it still does, especially when she does the authoritarian “I’m forbidding it and expect you to just accept it” bit (honestly, I can’t condone that behaviour in anyone), so the opening was a bit dicey for me but the ending makes up for it. Really Keroro and Natsumi have one of the most tumultuous relationships in the show, so the rare moments when we get to see that they do care about each other are always nice to see.

And as a side note, the moment with the frog was absolutely hilarious; I always love it when you see characters based on an animal species interacting with that animal (Honestly, I’m shocked that after four movies Equestria Girls still hasn’t done a “Pony meets Horse” joke)

Episode 32: I’m going to take a moment to ask the one question that’s been burning in the back of my mind since I first saw this episode and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s wondered this: What would happen if they used this thing on a frog? Would it turn into a Human or a Keronian? There’s the potential for quite a few humour moments with this one and I would have loved to see that explored a bit. Also does anyone else find it funny that when Keroro explains why a Panda would make a good ally he basically describes a role that’s already filled by Tamama? Having a cute appearance, but becoming violent when you get too close. Actually Pandas aren’t especially aggressive towards humans, they have attacked them, but usually out of irritation (Dolphins would fit the cute yet deadly bit better than a Panda, some species such as the Atlantic Bottlenose Dolphin hunt for sport).

Having said that I’m guessing the Zoo they visit is based on the Ueno Zoo since that Zoo is located in Tokyo and did have a Panda at the time; though that Panda was male, also the Elephants they had during the war died of starvation, there’s a memorial, and a historically inaccurate picture book about it and everything

Episode 33: Now this one is interesting, my goal is to be a director/producer of animation (I’ve actually been working on a story board for a fan project) so I always enjoy a peek into the production process, especially for shows. It’s doubly interesting since the process they show is very different from in North America where the voice acting is typically done first, while the method shown here has it as the last step (it must make dubbing foreign shows easier though, if you usually do something similar anyway)

Though there are a couple of options for a difficult to draw pose that weren’t in here that I remember from the classes I took, one is taking a picture so you don’t have to have a model standing for as long. The other is a bit controversial considering the sensibilities I’ve seen from some fan artists, but it’s something called a swipe file. Basically it’s a collection of pictures that that catch your interest that you can use for inspiration, reference and things you can’t get to look right. I know some people don’t approve, but some professionals do actually trace poses and details they have trouble with, especially if it’s something like key animation where you have to make a large number of drawings in a short period of time with nothing to work off of (in-between animation is easier since you’re working off the key drawings and most of the image is the same once you figure out how the character will go from pose a to pose b, and the inking stage of cel animation even more so, enough that Walt Disney replaced the entire inking depart with photocopy machines after Sleeping Beauty released in theaters because the film did poorly and the studio was in financial trouble as a result). If nothing else it’s a good way to practice since you can build muscle memory.

I just wanted to mention this since I remember a while back in another fandom that a lot of people were scandalised when it came out that one artist known for drawing comics had been using screenshots to get the basic pose he built the character on top of and I thought people’s reactions were a bit unfair given how quickly he had been putting his comics together. Especially since nobody was bothered by vector tracing and it’s apparently something that the animation industry has done for years (Some actually do more than that, I remember reading a book from overseas that mentioned a possible shortcut for monochrome pieces of keeping a stack of travel and real estate brochures and catelogues to cut out background from. That I don’t know if you’d be able to do here though) 

Episode 34: Oh I remember this one, to be honest I prefer the ending in the anime version, not just because everyone gets to go, but also because it acknowledges the fact that Keroro never needed a ticket to begin with (on a side note, I feel the Tamama shaped canon on Momoka’s powered suit is a fun little touch). 

As for part 2, actually I don’t think I’ve watched either part of this episode very many times, but watching it again I’m surprised that one Duet with Keroro & Fuyuki doesn’t play, the one about finding a pebble while walking....Having said that I remember back when I first watched the series, the song boulevard of broken dreams played on the radio a lot and I think this episode was the reason for a parody that always popped into my head of Keroro singing it as “Boulevard of broken plates” (By the way, the best way to fix ceramics is to moisten it and use crazy glue; it needs moisture to stick so running it under the faucet should work)

Episode 35: It’s the birthday episode! I remember this inspiring an entire discussion trying to work out the approximate Birthdays of each character based on astrology (Fuyuki & Momoka have actual hints since we see their birthdays celebrated; Fuyuki’s is likely mid-October and Momoka’s in late March) we actually worked out a few, though I remember we had trouble with Dororo, Mois, Koyuki & Saburo & I’m not sure what we ultimately settled on.

Having said that Keroro’s does fit really well, there’s one person my family knows (the mother of my closest friend growing up) who has her birthday the day before Keroro’s and there are certain....similarities in their behaviour (To give you an idea, my mom first met her when I was in kindergarten and she asked my mom to be the emergency contact for her son who was in my class and my mom agreed to avoid her asking someone dangerous)

Also the gifts Giroro gives Natsumi are space versions of the items the title character of Kaguya Hime asks five suitors (one per suitor) to bring her to win her hand in marriage, in the end all of them fail since the tasks were supposed to be near impossible (it was more to stop them bothering her parents). Either way Giroro’s comment that he casually picked them up for her would probably have been a bit more believable if he had taken that claw/fang out of his head first....just a thought.

[seriouslyhooked]

She Wanted a Sailor (The CS Mixtape) Part 127/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: Hey all! This is an AU drabble set in our world in the past where Emma is an orphan (now grown) sailing the Atlantic for the chance at a better life. While out there she meets Killian, a humble sailor. They fall in love over the course of the voyage, and in the end Killian asks her to marry him and she says yes. Inspired by a reader request for a Killian POV chapter to accompany ‘Fille Du Roy’ by Heather Dale.

When Liam said they were set to convey a different kind of cargo aboard their ship all those months ago, Killian never would have guessed that he meant people.

The Jolly had long been a trade vessel, one that Liam began captaining after he and Killian served their time in the royal navy, but it dabbled in goods bartered all around the Atlantic, not passengers looking for a new life in a new world. Still Liam was in charge at the end of the day, and when he assured the men they’d all be paid handsomely as soon as they docked, no one felt the need to truly complain.

It had further taken Killian aback on that first morning to see twenty young women awaiting a voyage across the seas. This was a hard journey, and an even harder life to adjust to, but it turned out that most of the women aboard this vessel were destined for some sort of comfort. They had husbands awaiting them, men who were in need of wives and settled on one without so much as a look.

This idea of choosing a suitor with little more than a letter of acknowledgement might not have upset Killian had it not been for one ethereal and entrancing woman amongst the group. Her name was Emma, Emma Swan, and from the first moment that his eyes gazed upon her he was spell bound.

The attraction he felt for Emma burned hotter than any rum he’d tasted or flame he’d dallied near. She was sunlight and lightening all in one, with jade colored eyes that were always trained on her surroundings, aware of every threat and happenstance. Even after weeks of sailing, she’d never waivered into terrain that was less than beautiful, with her wind swept golden hair and the freckles that appeared from exposure. She was a dream made real, and it took ever last ounce of honor in him not to take her into his arms and confess his feelings every damn day.

As it was, Emma was the most involved of all the women. They might be passengers, paying for a voyage free from work or fatigue, but Emma wasn’t interested in an idle life. She wanted to keep busy, and for some reason – some blessed, wonderful reason – she’d chosen him to be her guide.

“Why me, love?” He’d asked her a few days into their voyage.

“Because you’re good, and because I trust you.”

Her confession completely blew him away, and with each passing moment that they were in each other’s company, Killian fell more and more in love with her. It could hardly be helped, Emma was so miraculous and so full of life that he would wager a hundred men had lost their hearts to her at some time or another, but she never paid another man on the ship any mind. Aside from an easy string of conversation with Liam each morning, Emma spent her time either by herself or at Killian’s side. Even with the other women she hesitated to connect, remaining kind and courteous, but closed off. She was a mystery to most of the people aboard this ship, but Killian knew her better than he knew himself.

He knew, for example, that Emma preferred rum to tea (which she classified as stale and unappealing), that she favored the color red over all others, and that she fancied herself capable of blending into the background. She’d told him a month into the journey that as an orphan, it was easy for her to go through life unseen, but he didn’t believe it. Killian was absolutely certain that Emma would stand out in any situation. She was too perfect to not be the center of the universe, and he wanted to make her see that, even if it technically wasn’t his place.

And there was the problem, the one clinging to his heart tonight – Emma was promised to someone else, a man she’d never even met before. It was the cruelest trick of fate, to think that Emma would walk off this boat tomorrow when they made it to port and leave his life forever. If that were to be the case it would mean the best days of Killian’s life were behind him, for surely there could be nothing better than loving Emma and being in her presence day in and day out.

“How did I know I would find you here?”

Killian turned to find the siren in question, leaning against the railing just beside him. She was quiet in her approach, but he’d sensed her a few moments before she spoke, because his body was particularly attuned to her and her alone. He tried his best not to let his eyes feast upon her but it was difficult since the moon was full and the lantern light from across the ship cast her face in pale lights that made her look even more angelic.

“Because you are privy to every part of me, Swan.”

Emma smiled at his use of just her last name. She’d been begging him to call her Emma forever, dreading the title ‘Miss Swan’ more than anything, so they compromised. When they were alone he dropped the title, comforting her and granting him the illusion that she was tied up enough with him to make the break in politeness okay.

“How do you do it?” Killian’s brow furrowed.

“Do what love?”

“Go back to the real world after all this time at sea. I keep trying to remember life before this and I can’t, and yet I know come tomorrow it will all just be some spectacular dream.” Killian’s heart clenched painfully. On the one had he was happy to know that for Emma these past few months would be considered a bright spot in her life, but on the other he was drowning in his own remorse that they would even have to say goodbye at all.

“I’m not entirely sure, love. I’ve never managed to stay away from the sea for long, but perhaps some of the magic of the voyage wasn’t in the setting but the company.”

Killian knew it was too forward, that he was going to hell for even granting himself a chance like this, but he couldn’t help reaching for her hand and reveling in the zinging pleasure that followed. The connection when he touched Emma was unparalleled, and he’d never felt more at home in his life, even if the whole world was crumbling down because she was set to leave him.

“Perhaps I should look into returning too. Do you think I’d make a good sailor?”

Killian’s breath caught when Emma turned her hand in his, her thumb coming to trace against his wrist lightly. It was intimate, a touch he felt coursing through his very spirit but then the darkness came again when he remembered how this couldn’t happen. Yet the pain of removing himself from her in any way was too much.

“The best, love. But I hardly think your husband will look fondly on the change in course.” Mentioning the man, whoever he was, aloud was torture itself, but it was made all the worse by the hurt expression that flicked over Emma’s eyes.

“My husband?” Emma asked, clearly confused.

“Aye love, or rather the man you’re promised to come tomorrow.” Something passed over Emma’s face that surprised him. There was humor there, and a bit of hope despite the hopelessness of the situation.

“Killian, I’m not sailing towards a husband.”

There were no words to express the confounded emotions within him. One moment he’d been a man living with the bleakest of fates before him, the next he was born again, seeing the world for the first time in a long time as one that might work out in his favor. He hardly knew what to think or feel or say, but all that shone through was a need to know everything. Was Emma unclaimed? Was she free from attachment and so able to make her own choice? And if she was, could she ever possibly consider him, a man who loved her more than he’d ever loved anything before?

“But the others…”

“Have a vastly different world view than me, haven’t you seen that?”

He had, and it had plagued him for months why Emma would be subjecting herself to the life these other women claimed to want. They weren’t dreaming of any romance or passion, just comfort and stability. On some level he understood that, especially if they were running from situations that were unstable or harmful, but with Emma… it simply ripped his soul apart to think that she would settle for anything but the realest, truest love.

“Aye, love. I just assumed  - Liam informed that all the maidens aboard were bound for matrimony.” Emma smiled kindly before casting her gaze back to the sea and the multitude of stars that surrounded them on this clear, mild night.

“I asked him to keep my intentions a secret. I didn’t want to risk undue attention. I…”

The longing in Emma’s voice as it wafted over the tiny bit of space that remained between them pierced something in Killian. The slight warble in the melodic tones he’d grown accustomed to from her mirrored his own enormity of feeling. He was desperate to hear more, because maybe – just maybe – she felt as he did underneath it all.

“You what, love?” Her eyes flicked back to him.

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

This was the sign he’d been looking for. In her words alone there wasn’t a complete reveal of attachment, but it was more than Killian had ever hoped for and as such it prompted him to pull the ring that had been burning a hole in his pocket since the first night Emma boarded this ship. Her eyes went wide as he bent down on one knee, her free hand that he wasn’t still holding covering her mouth in surprise. But her eyes, Gods her eyes were a swirling sea of happiness and hope that sparked the words he’d been dying to say.

“Emma, I know I’m just a sailor, a humble man when you deserve a king, but you must know that I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being, without question and without uncertainty. You are the single most precious part of my life, the best part of every day, and I beg you to consider me, to make me the happiest of men by being my wife.”

Killian didn’t know what he expected. Perhaps a beat of silence where she considered or even a refusal. It was all too unbelievable to think that she could really love as fiercely as he did. Yet her reaction, that radiant smile shining down on him and the fresh tears in her eyes that went with it, coupled with the single most beautiful word that passed her lips was better than anything he’d ever known before.

“Yes.”

With her agreement and slightly shaky hands, he slipped the ring upon her finger, knowing that the band and the matching sapphire had once been his mother’s. She’d always wished the ring would find a happy ending, a love that was real in a world that cared little for affairs of the heart. Now Killian knew he’d granted his mother’s final wish, for there had never been a love as strong as his for Emma, and he wagered there would never be another one again.

Killian rose back up to his feet and pulled Emma close, feeling freer when he had Emma wrapped up in his arms than he ever had before. It was liberating, to know that she wanted him and that she’d agreed to be his just as he was so completely and totally hers. Still a trickle of doubt flooded in, despite Emma’s joyous look, and he wanted to assure her that they could have more than this. In truth, Killian would do whatever it took to give Emma whatever she wanted. All she had to do was ask.

“We live modestly on the ship, love, but I swear I’ll build us a home, a real home. We can have the roots you always wanted, we can -,”

She interrupted his professions with a kiss, one that felt destined and perfect and right. It was as if Killian waited his whole life for this moment, the moment that Emma and he could be one, and it was better than any bloody dream he could ever have had. For this was real, an embrace mixed with need and passion and something so much purer – love.

“I want you, Killian. I want you just as you are because I love you. I love you so much more than I can say. So wherever we go, however we live, it will be more than enough. It’ll be everything.”

He ran his hand along her cheek, taking in his bride to-be, and he basked in this feeling, knowing that with Emma by his side it would never go away. As long as she was with him he’d be fated for a happy life, a life that mattered, with purpose and love and every good thing.

“Killian?” Her voice was warm and washed upon his skin, seeping to his soul and blending with the magic of their moment.

“Yes, my love?” She smiled at the endearment, the subtle change that meant the world to him and to her.

“I just have one thing to ask.”

“Anything, Emma. I will give you anything.” Her hand ran lightly across his chest, a silent show of her appreciation for his devotion.

“Let’s not wait. All we need is Liam and the two of us. I want to marry you tonight.”

“You’re sure?” He begged the question not because he was adverse to such a plan (truth be told it was exactly to his liking), but because he didn’t want to deny Emma the chance at a wedding in white, with flowers in her hair, a church full of people looking on and wishing them well.

“Yes Killian I’m sure. This is exactly how I’ve dreamed it.”

Killian grinned at the thought that Emma had imagined this. Lord knew he’d done the same, but he was still in shock that this was his life and that the story was turning out so exceptionally well. It was that shock that kept him immobile, clinging to his Swan as he was instead of rushing to retrieve his brother as a more sensible man would.

“And besides, I think we’d both rather like me to be your wife sooner rather than later. We have a lot of time to make up for.” Killian growled out a sound of affirmation that lit up Emma’s eyes and he brought both her hands up to kiss gently.

“We have our whole lives ahead of us, my love, and it starts right now.”

With that they set off to find Liam (who of course agreed, claiming he’d expected such a call to action far sooner) and they were wed, declared man and wife out there on the sea under a starry night as they both so wished. And in their eyes it was perfect, a series of wonderful moments in a life filled with similar happiness. Adventure, a family, a place to call home: they found it all, and amazingly enough, they found it together.

…………..

Twenty young women were there on the dock From an orphanage East of Paris Girls without fathers now King Louis' daughters Who'd chosen to cross the wide sea Nervous and hopeful, no strangers to toil They'll do well in the new lives they'll lead As honourable wives in a place called Quebec They're not meant for a sailor like me

Nineteen young women asleep in their bunks But one up on deck here with me She's watching the stars with the wind in hair And she tells me her name is Marie No stranger to laughter, no stranger to joy And a spirit as wild as the sea She'll make a man happy in distant Quebec But he won't be a sailor like me

Thirty long days from the broad St. Laurent And the other girls scarce have been seen But Marie's gone and learned all the terms of the trade And her feet found the roll of the sea All the boys love her and everyone jokes That her smiles carry more than I see I don't know what she wants in la ville de Quebec But she can't want a sailor like me.

But I've borrowed a ring from my friend P'tit Robert And the boys have all left us alone And I've asked what she'd think of a life in the town And a husband who's not always home Then she's laughed and she's kissed me And told me that love is more precious than land on la Rive Thank God that she chose to go out to Quebec And she wanted a sailor like me

Post-Note: So first and foremost shout out to the lovely reader who suggested this song months and months ago. It took me far too long to get to this prompt, but the story finally came to me this weekend, and I am so thankful that it did. I hope that all of you enjoyed, and thank you to all of you guys who have prompted songs or tropes to be included in future chapters. It means a lot and I am happy to say that thanks to you guys the mixtape has a long, bright future still ahead of it!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39, Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46, Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54, Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61, Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69, Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76, Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84, Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91, Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99, Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107, Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112, Part 113, Part 114, Part 115, Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123, Part 124, Part 125, Part 126

[learnspanishfans]

Mayan Languages: How I Learned to Speak Tz’utujil in Guatemala

Have you ever wondered what ancient Mayan languages sound like? I did. My curiosity, in fact, led me to the indigenous town of San Juan La Laguna in Sololá, Guatemala where I volunteered my time at a health clinic and studied the language of Tz'utujil in my spare time. [caption id="attachment_20189" align="aligncenter" width="700"] San Juan La Laguna, Guatemala.[/caption] Six months have passed and I haven’t been able to leave. I’ve had too much fun.

What is the Tz'utujil language?

Tz'utujil is a Mayan language considerably younger than its ancestor K'iche' which predates it by thousands of years. When I first arrived in San Juan La Laguna I was pleasantly perplexed by what I heard spoken on the streets. It sounded like a peculiar form of Arabic. With a sound system characterised by glottal stops, clicks (I'm not kidding) and unorthodox consonants such as the 'j','r' and 'l' sounds, my ears had never experienced anything like it. Some say that the clicks were inspired by chickens. The three main languages spoken along the shores of Lake Atitlan (K'iche', Kaqchikel and Tz'utujil) could be, but are not considered, dialects of one another. They are close enough to be mutually understood by many speakers, albeit with some difficulty. Another interesting feature of these languages is how easily they morph from generation to generation and even from town to town.

Guatemala’s Disappearing Mayan Languages

When the Spanish colonised Latin America, they nearly succeeded in obliterating all evidence of one of the most advanced civilisations on earth. Calendars, religious texts and descriptions of the cosmos were burned, but the living languages of the Maya survived! They're still spoken today. Guatemala has 22 officially recognised indigenous Mayan languages, many of which are edging closer to endangerment or extinction. With an estimated 47,000 speakers, UNESCO has classified Tz’utujil as vulnerable but not endangered. Since the peace accords of the mid-1990s, efforts have been made to revitalise these languages with only limited success. Ultimately, the younger generations are more inclined to opt for Spanish for various reasons. All Mayan languages are presumed to stem from one original, theoretical, proto-Mayan language. Scholars generally agree that this ancient language branched into about five or six major language groups, one of which is K’ichean which includes both the K’iche’ and Tz’utujil languages. While many Mayan languages are closely related, others share little in common save for some grammatical and phonetic features. Tz’utujil and Kaqchikel, for example, might be considered as close to one another as Spanish and Portuguese, whereas Mam and K’iche’, both spoken in the city of Xela but belonging to different language groups, are mutually incomprehensible.

Is Learning a Mayan Language Difficult?

As I continue to study Tz'utujil, I've made up my mind that it's not difficult. Why not? Because if you say it's difficult, then of course, it becomes difficult. [caption id="attachment_20188" align="aligncenter" width="700"] San Juan La Laguna, Guatemala.[/caption] It’s curious how different languages reflect different decisions about how their native speakers break the world up into concepts. The presence or absence of certain expressions and grammatical features tells a story about how the world is perceived.  For example, in Tz’utujil the verb ajob’eneem can be translated as to love, to want and to accept. K’utuneem can be translated as to ask for as well as to teach. Furthermore, what English-speakers would consider to be past and future are understood in Tz’utujil in  terms of completion and potential. Personally, understanding these subtle differences in perception constitutes a major motivating force for me in learning a language. Given that the roots of Tz’utujil date back thousands of years, it seems intuitive that the living language itself provides insights into the cosmovisión (world view) of the ancient Maya. In this post, I'd like to share some insights I’ve gained on fruitful ways to go about learning an indigenous language. I’ll also discuss some of the challenges I’ve faced, and how I’ve overcome them. I hope you’ll find something useful in what I share, whichever language you are learning. So, onto my seven tips on how to learn indigenous languages. Here goes:

Tip 1: Seek Out the Elderly

One of the things that blew me away when I arrived in San Juan La Laguna was seeing wide and authentic grins on the faces of the elderly, which is almost unheard of in my country, where old folks are sequestered from society in retirement homes and geriatric institutions. There is no division here between young and old. People of all ages are well-integrated into society, but there are generational differences. In terms of language, the ancianos of San Juan, though they can understand Spanish, typically speak very little of it. Instead, they converse almost exclusively in pure, unadulterated Tz'utujil. The reverse is true for the youngsters. Among the youth, there can be a certain vergüenza about speaking Mayan languages, a certain sentiment that they are slightly backwards, uncivilised and out of touch with modernity. If you want to learn a Mayan language, then, it is imperative to seek out the elderly for conversational practice! Luckily, they're some of the friendliest people around.

Tip 2: Hang Out in San Pablo: The Town with No Tourism

Three kilometers north of San Juan La Laguna (Xe´ Kuku´ Aab´aj in Tz´utujil), an offbeat sister town named San Pablo La Laguna (To k´or juyu´) hides in the shadows. San Pablo is also Tz'utujil speaking, but there is virtually no tourism there. It seems to be the butt of all jokes in San Juan. If Lake Atitlan were a high school, San Pablo would be the kid that everyone makes fun of, but never to his face because they're afraid they'll get beat up. San Pablo has a reputation for being poor, unhygienic, "tough" and just generally backwards. This is the type of place you have to go to really learn a Mayan language. Why? Because if you walk down the streets of San Pablo, you won't hear a single person speaking Spanish. You will, however, hear plenty of hip-hop and witness a thriving evangelical community. Oddly enough, hip-hop and evangelical Christianity have something in common in that both are, in their own respects, social movements designed to spread a message and appeal to marginalised groups. Aside from these two notable exceptions, however, San Pablo has remained remarkably resistant to outside influences compared to its neighbours. In other words, it is one of the most authentic towns, and the ideal place to learn Tz'utujil. Seek out the San Pablo of your indigenous language community and figure out a way to spend time there.

Tip 3: Talk to Tuk-tukeros and Tortilleras

When you’re learning an indigenous language, it’s a good idea to talk to whoever you can in the language. Some of my best conversations in Tz'utujil have been in the tortillerías, the small nearly-empty rooms inhabited by only a stove, a bowl of masa and three women slapping tortillas together with Toyota Prius-like efficiency (FYI: There are no Toyota Priuses in Guatemala). While you sit on a stool and wait for your tortillas, you'll have the opportunity to practice. Everyone in there will be speaking Mayan, except for the kids. Don't be shy! Tell them what you did that day. Ask them about theirs (all they've done is make tortillas). In my case, I fell in love with one of the tortilleras and asked her out, five times. She never really said yes or no. A wise man once said that anything other than a yes is no, but that didn’t stop me from persisting. How do you ask a girl out in Tz'utujil? La nawajo' naatij kape' wik'iin ja chuwaq (do you want to drink coffee with me tomorrow?) will work. Technically, you should ask her parents first, which I didn’t. In the tuk-tuks, the little red go-carts that shuttle people around Guatemala at a speed of about two kilometers an hour, you'll have the opportunity to strike up dialogue with passengers and drivers. Most of them will ask you about Donald Trump. Chicken buses, which are former US school buses that have been flamboyantly refurbished for the Guatemalan esthetic, also offer excellent speaking opportunities. They constitute the most economical (and blood-curdling) method of travel in the country. For the record, I’ve never seen a chicken on one. Locals refer to them as camionetas and in Tz’utujil the name for them is nimachijch (big metal thing). They blow a whistle that sounds like a locomotive and light up like Las Vegas at night, though it’s safer to ride them during the day. They would not pass emissions inspections in any country with any environmental standards. When you get on one, you’re in for a wild ride! You’ll either be crushed by other passengers or find yourself sliding off your seat while a reckless driver, with absolutely nothing to lose, accelerates into each turn. These buses, as I mentioned, are a fantastic place to practice your Mayan language. Be aware that the person sitting next to you may not speak the one you’re learning. For example, the bus from San Pedro La Laguna to Xela typically carries a mix of K’iche’ and Tz’utujil speaking passengers.

Tip 4: Scavenge for Educational Materials (They Can Be Hard to Find!)

During the Guatemalan civil war, in many communities indigenous people, language and culture were under attack. Following the peace accords of 1996, powerful movements were born with the aim of strengthening and revitalising Mayan languages in Guatemala, many of which were and are still dying out. If you’re interested in reading more about this, I’d recommend reading the 1998 paper Mayan Languages and the Mayan Movement in Guatemala by Ajb'ee Odilio Jimenez Sanchez. Out of this movement, the Academy of Mayan Languages (ALMG) was born. ALMG promotes Mayan languages in Guatemala in part through its publication of educational materials for school children. Luckily, you can also purchase these materials at their offices scattered throughout the country. There is no Rosetta Stone for Tz'utujil, and online materials are scarce. However, the materials developed by ALMG are of high quality and come in a variety of media including textbooks, magazines, audio and video. There's only one caveat: you'll have to know Spanish in order to make any sense of them.

Tip 5: Be Prepared to Start from Ground Zero

If you're like me and have learned a handful of Latin languages, by learning an indigenous language you’ll enjoy the challenge of having absolutely nothing handed to you (except a Westernised alphabet). If you already spoke Spanish and Portuguese, for example, learning how to speak Italian would be akin to learning ukulele when you already play guitar and banjo. No big deal. Now try learning the bagpipes. Unless you already speak another Mayan language, you'll be starting from ground zero which means you have to be patient with yourself. If you're an English speaker learning a romance language, you get a lot of words for free (e.g. “composition”, “description”, “revitalisation”, etc). Not so with indigenous languages; you will have to earn every word. The silver lining? There will be no false cognates to trip you up. Plus, you'll discover in a whole new way how another group of people choose to arbitrarily break up the world. When I first got to San Juan, I struggled to tell the faces of my coworkers apart. Everyone looked the same until I got to know them. And it was the same with nouns and verbs in Tz'utujil (e.g. k'amooneem, k'uluuneem, k'aqooneem, k'ulub'aaneem, k'otz'ooleem, ka'muluuneem). Are you kidding me? In terms of grammar, you may struggle to make sense of directionals, ergative subject/object relationships and Mayan prepositions, which some say don't exist. Finally, you will have to learn to produce all the curiously charming sounds that characterise your chosen Mayan language, which brings me to my next tip.

Tip 6: Walk Around Making Funny Noises

I learned to roll my Spanish Rs in Jamaica Plain's Arnold Arboretum walking around like a madman saying guitarra over and over again. It worked! People looked at me strangely, but it worked. In San Juan La Laguna, it took me a while to be able to pronounce the glottalized q' which is essentially a click from deep within the throat. One of my teachers described it as the most serious sound in Tz'utujil. For months, I couldn't find it at all. Then, maybe one out of a hundred tries I could get it. Certain words were more conducive to success. For example, I found the sound more easily with the word ruuq'a' (his arm) than with the word q'iij (day). But in the end repetition was the most important ingredient. Whenever I went for a walk, I repeated ruuq'a' over and over until I could get it one out of fifty, twenty-five, ten, five and eventually every other time. Across many of the Mayan languages, the phonology is similar. For an English speaker, there are a few tricky sounds but nothing that can't be overcome with a little determination and locura (insanity).

Tip 7: Enjoy Making People Laugh (At You!)

This much is true: When you start speaking a Mayan language in Guatemala, you will make everyone in the room laugh, in addition to the people standing outside. If I've learned anything about Mayan culture in the six months that I've been here, it's that these people love laughing. They value it over almost any other activity, except making money. And nothing could be funnier to an indigenous Guatemalan than a kaxlan winaq (foreigner) speaking his or her mother tongue cumbersomely. Of all the San Juaneros with whom I spoke Tz'utujil, no one laughed harder than my coworker Elena. She didn't even try to restrain herself. Every word I uttered in Tz'utujil would send her into an uncontrollable fit of foot-stomping hysterics. I started saying things to her just to get her going. [caption id="attachment_20190" align="aligncenter" width="279"] Author Stephen with his co-worker Elena.[/caption] Truthfully though, although the folks in your Mayan community may (will) laugh at you, their faces will also light up, huge smiles will come across them and their eyes will grow wide when you start speaking their language. They may even thank you. For some, you will make them proud of their heritage. Don't be surprised if they start opening up to you in ways that they didn't when you spoke to them in Spanish. Finally, expect to gain a deeper understanding of their culture beyond the usual tourist-friendly façade. The takeaway message: it all starts with you making a fool of yourself.

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