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#but everyone likes it so it must be a me problem
stylespresleyhearted · 20 hours
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THE MAJOR’S WIFE
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warnings: mentions of miscarriage, adultery, nsfw, marital problems, oral (m! receiving), spanking, being turned on even when your brain isn’t in it, bucky in 1x04, bucky married pre-war, slight age gap bc reader can come off slightly immature (i think?) angst, historical inaccuracies, new mediocre writer be nice
summary: John Egan gets to know his wife again
word count: 9.7k
notes: i’m not sure where this came from i wrote it all today and got no part of my research paper done. there’s really no point to it and also irl john egan was actually really close to his mother so i emphasized that here. he wrote to her so much. no disrespect to any of the real people, this is based on the show/show timeline as well.
Lila gets the call on the 2nd of October and her dreams come true.
Not entirely, no. The real dream would be having him home safe and the tragic war being over but she knows how fortunate she is to have the next best thing happen. Her husband’s been granted a few days leave and Colonel Harding believed it would do Major Egan some good to have his sweet, young wife join him during those days overseas. For the good of John’s mental health the Colonel or the President - or whoever was in charge, Lila really had no idea - had agreed to pay for her ticket and their hotel. There was only one thing they asked for in return and although it wasn’t explicitly said, Lila caught their drift: sort your husband out.
Lila knows it would do her no good to sit and wonder how horribly John must be doing in order for them to declare an all expenses paid trip for his spouse. All she does is worry for him anyhow so she forces herself to focus on the one good thing of the entire ordeal - she’s going to see her man.
There’d been letters, although not as many as she liked and she tried not to let it show how it hurt as every other wife received more than one letter at a time. Her John wasn’t the sort, she knew that when she married him. He was the kind of person who needed endless skies and land to maintain his sense of stability. Having him cooped up would do him no good and she partly wondered how much of what he was struggling with was the trauma he witnessed in the air and how much of it was feeling caged on base. At least his plane, good ol’ Mugwump (he wrote about her quite often) offered him the opportunity to head anywhere he wanted.
The only person he wrote consistently and readily to was his mother. It was rare if a week went by and she received no letter. During these instances it was more times than not an issue with the postal service.
Be that as it may, Lila knew who she married and it made her love him no less so she tried not to let it get to her. His mother was a saint. Firm and strong and loving all the same. Lila would have never survived sending John off if his mother wasn’t who and how she was. She held Lila at night when her cries woke her and she let Lila sleep in his old childhood bed. She kept food on their table and ensured everyone got their work done through the worry.
When John first left and Lila was sick to her stomach and vomiting multiple times of the day it was his mother who consoled her through the night when her sheets turned a crimson red and any ideals of having their baby through the war was lost.
Frances Egan was the glue holding them together. All of them, even her son who was an entire ocean way - so no. Lila would not be angry that she was John’s preferred pen-pal.
“You fix him right up,” Mama Egan had said in lieu of goodbye when leaving her at the airport, “you give him the loving he needs as his wife and the smacks he needs from me to get on the straight and narrow before sending him off to continue saving the world. You do it for him, not for any of them war bastards. You hear me?”
All Lila could do was nod. Dropping her bags on the floor and clutching her pseudo mother tightly. She was excited as she was frightened.
They had only gotten two months together before he had been pulled away. She didn’t want to complain, loads of women had gotten less time at all while others had only ever been left with the promise.
But her two months as Mrs. Egan? They’d been a dream. Her man was a romancer. He hadn’t hesitated in introducing her as the newly (and younger) Mrs. Egan, always resulting in an arm slap from his mother, he held open doors and he never stopped courting her; however she thinks the best times were when he was teaching her how to act married.
In their bed, at a home he had spent a year building for them. Using any extra pennies he had to pay off younger boys to help him hurry it along. Giving her the wrap-around porch she had always envisioned.
He showed her how to kiss. How to undress him. He had laid her underneath him, using his large frame to cover her completely, protecting her from the cold as he threw the sheets off them and making her feel tiny compared to him. She had never felt safer.
It had hurt the first time but he had held her through it. Never allowing any inches of space between their bodies; as if telling her they were in it together. She’d always known he was large, everything about him was large in general, but she never thought how much it would hurt to have all of him fit inside her. Lila hadn't wanted to disappoint him so she tried to muffle her tears and whimpers but he had swallowed her cries and gone slow, soft.
“If this is it, it’ll be enough,” he had promised, only about half way inside her and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. As a thank you she had taken that calloused thumb into her mouth and sucked. He allowed her; hiding his face in her neck and pressing wet kisses along there.
And for the first few times that had been it. She couldn’t take all of him and his thrusts couldn’t get too deep so he would only slip inside until her tight hole resisted and pulsed and he’d hump against that spot until reaching his pleasure.
“Do other girls take all of it?” She had asked a couple days later, trying to wrap her head around it.
She was no idiot. John Egan was no virgin.
“Yes.” Lila could always count on him to be honest. At least there was that. Meanwhile she couldn’t even fully pleasure him. She was failing as a wife. “Hey,” he lay facing her and she lay on her back. He tapped her cheek until she turned her face. “You’re my wife. That’s what makes this feel better.”
And she had beamed at his reassurance even though she didn’t feel much better. She knew John would never push her, and he couldn’t stand to see her cry, so if she ever wanted to learn to be a good wife she would have to take it upon herself.
So that’s what she did.
He was always on top and she was always on her back. That’s the first thing she had to change. From her understanding of it, from her talks with friends that always ended in giggles and blushing cheeks and from what she learned from John, it could be done in many different ways.
“I prefer to be in charge,” her school friend, Linda, had admitted to her. “Not like that -” she clarified, cheeks pink, “Just - if I’m gonna take it, I’d rather do it at my pace. Be on top. Some husbands are good like that. They’ll allow it.”
And knowing her husband wasn’t just good, he was great, she knew he would hold no qualms about it. The next time they lay in bed kissing it was easy to turn him over and straddle him. Move her wetness against his belly to let him know there was still more she just needed him to accept it.
Except he thought she was asking him to do it so he flipped her on her back again. And without breaking their kiss, she turned him over again.
It was more like they were wrestling.
Lila pulls away from his mouth, reluctantly, noticing his lips were wet and red and swollen and wondering if hers were much the same. They had been kissing for so long her mouth felt raw.
She loved it.
Straddling him, she reached behind her, feeling him standing straight and hard against her backside in between her cheeks. Sticky.
He gasped, bucking into her fist with a loud, guttural groan. It was so manly she rocked against his stomach again in need.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, “what’re you doing?”
“I want to try it like this,” she breathed, leaning over to whisper in his mouth, her tiny hand still wrapped around him and lining her up to her hole. “I want it all.” Lila clarified.
And John allowed it, like she knew he would. Let her take control and go at her pace. Let her swivel her hips on the way down to help with the tightness of being stretched so wide and thick.
Nothing but curses and promises of love leaving his lips. Gasping mine, mine, mine and my perfect fucking wife and I’m gonna fuck you forever.
He felt large inside of her, like if she was being split in two but it felt so good as the tip of him repeatedly hit a spongy part inside that had her coming with no contact to her clit for the first time.
She was beautiful, red splotches appearing on her body from the heat of their love-making, her hair tangled in his fists, her mouth falling open as she threw her head back - all of it was too much. He was flipping her over and pounding into her trying to chase his peak and a second one from her, their headboard banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
Things changed from then on. Sexually, that is. Becoming aware of how badly she needed to feel like she was pleasing him, John was not above using it against her. Like letting him lick at her.
“Good wives allow their husbands everything,” he would say, lips wide in a smile and eyes bright at the prospect of getting his way but Lila always knew the choice was really hers. He would respect what she wanted.
He was just too damn addicting. She couldn’t stand to tell him no.
His favorite times were when she allowed him to sit her over his face and let him feast. It drowned the outside world for him and he kept at it even after she had reached multiple orgasms and was pulling on his hair and the only thing keeping her up was his forearms locking around her thighs.
Her favorite was when he allowed her to taste him at the same time he was licking her. It was a tie between those times and when he held her down until all of him was in her mouth and she was spluttering, choking, gagging. Knowing she made a filthy vision and he adored it did something to her.
Now she was in London, closer to him than she had been in years, and all their intimacies were within reach. She could almost taste him, feel him petting back her hair and settling a hand at the low of her back. She still remembers the smell of his after shave and sweat, how he’d come into the kitchen asking for some of her homemade lemonade to help with the heat.
Jack Kidd was tasked with picking up Mrs. Egan from the airport and having her arrive at base with him. She remembers meeting him a couple of times before John shipped out early. Originally she was meant to wait for John at their hotel but there had been an issue when planning her flight and she arrived sooner than intended.
“Ma’am,” he greeted, placing a friendly kiss on her cheeks and taking her bags from her. “Bucky’s gonna be happy as hell to see your face.”
The tone in his voice - relief? alleviation? - had some of her happy wife's facade crumbling. How badly was her Johnny hurting that everyone was looking at her at his only chance to remain sane or alive?
Stop it. Maybe everyone’s just aware Johnny misses you. You’re his wife.
“Not as happy as me, I wager,” she returned with a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, Jack. Glad to see you still kicking.”
His shrug didn’t soothe her worry but she saw him try to mask it with a smile.
“All we boys can do is pray.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder, gathering his attention. “You boys have got the prayers of our entire country protecting you.”
Jack simply nodded in response.
For the most part the ride to base was quiet. Her bags would be kept in the trunk until her and John were ready to drive out to London in a couple of hours and until then, she’d be his surprise at the officer’s club. Silver Wings, Jack called it. Where all the boys gathered and had drinks and celebrated accomplishments. And where some chose to mourn, too.
Her stomach was turning as she neared the hut, following Jack’s footsteps. There was so much that could go wrong and although this was meant to be a surprise, the U.S Army showing their gratitude towards a brave Major, she suddenly wished she would have called John and told him. She wished he knew so that she wouldn’t have to walk in feeling alone and unwanted.
Not that Lila thought John would turn her away, she simply wanted to have him hold her hand as she walked through the threshold.
“Stick close by,” Jack murmured, being respectful of where he touched her before deciding to lead her by her shoulder. “It gets crowded but I’ll take ya to him.”
As she walked through different groups, she felt the offending eyes of men and women alike. Wondering who she was. With a pang in her heart she realized she had met John’s squadrons before but all these crews were new. The boys she met, most of them at least from what she could tell, hadn’t made it. John never wrote about who passed away (except to inform her of Curt) ; most of their letters were him expressing his love and how he missed her so and asking what she got up to.
Having walked around the roundabout bar in the center of the room, her stomach in knots and fingers tangled in front of her - she caught sight of her husband smack middle in the dance floor. Pressed against a beautiful brunette.
Lila caught sight of him before even Jack did. That’s how connected she was to her husband. Jack whistled from beside her to gain Gale’s attention who was resting against the bar holding his signature ginger ale, also watching John Egan chat up the woman he was swaying with with something like disapproval in his eyes.
His large hands were occupying most of the space of her waist, keeping her body tethered to his as she laughed.
“Lila,” he gasped, eyes wide. He was smart enough to not turn and look at his buddy. To act as if nothing was amiss and she expected nothing less from Gale Cleven, “damn it all to hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Egan.”
Because he was close to John, he didn’t hesitate in wrapping her up in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her tinted cheeks. He knew John wouldn’t mind.
When he pulled back she patted his chubby cheek in return, “You still shame the rest of us with your good looks, Gale,” she laughed. “I’ll let Marge know when I see her next.”
Lila also knew she would share with Marge that while Gale was being loyal, standing off to the side her husband was exchanging oxygen with a woman on the dance floor.
His cheeks tinted at the mention of his girl. Buck and Bucky were both aware Lila and Marge wrote to one another and visited each other whenever time made it possible.
“Colonel Harding said Major Egan was in need of something from home,” she said, studying his reaction to see what she could read but Gale had always been aloof, cold. He wasn’t close to her like he was with Marge and John.
Gale thought back to a few moments earlier when John had disrespected their Colonel and all his actions before that too - disrespecting superiors, drinking more consistently, becoming angry - hopelessness in his eyes.
“He’s in need of you Lila,” Gale clarified and it wasn’t lost on either one of them that he they were referring to was currently on the floor wooing another woman.
“Holy shit! It’s Mrs. Egan!” Hambone animatedly announced and suddenly it felt like the eyes of everyone in there were on her. Her cheeks tinted pink, never having been one for the spotlight like her husband.
She was greeted with welcoming cheers and hugs.
John, for his part, disentangled from the woman he was holding at the mention of his missus. He was sober enough to appear sheepish and guilty, but in the next second it was gone as he stalked towards her. Determined. Quick. His smile growing the more he neared like he was becoming more aware she was really there and it wasn’t a fucked up scenario in his head.
“God, Lila,” she managed to hear him say before she was elevated in the air, his arms tight around her waist and lifting her high so they were at face level and he could kiss her. Channeling his love and exuberance and aggression into kissing his wife. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s really you,” he was saying in between smooches, “I missed you. So fucking much, doll.”
Basking in his love she didn’t feel the need to mention the woman that was so kindly keeping him preoccupied before she entered.
She couldn’t help the first tear from falling or the rest from following. It was like the tightness in her chest unlocked as she finally got to hold him and feel his heat surround her. He still smelled of after shave and the same hair gel that was kept in their bathroom at home but he tasted strongly of whiskey and cigarettes and strawberry lipstick.
John tucked his face into her neck, setting her down and bending to her level. Sniffling in there as he continued to hold her.
“None of that,” she did her best to stop her voice from wobbling or breaking, “we’re together. That’s all that matters.” She drew his face out from where he had hidden to pepper him with a few more kisses.
None of it was enough.
The rest of the guys were kind enough to return to the dance floor and act like they couldn’t see them.
“Who? What - why? How?” He was obviously having trouble forming coherent thoughts in between the kisses he continued stealing from her.
She was crying and laughing and trying to return all his touches. It was a terribly difficult ordeal but she had never been happier.
“Colonel Harding called and said you had a weekend leave. He said he talked to some of the higher ups but they couldn’t allow you a leave home so this was the next best thing,” she explained, cupping his cheek as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. He had minor scars that weren’t there before.
She wanted to kiss every single one of them.
He was still bent towards her height, taking her in as she was taking him in.
She forgot how blue his eyes were.
He was whole. Complete. Hers.
“You’re here for the entire weekend?” He asked to confirm and she nodded, laughing when he lifted her again with a loud whoop to celebrate. That got a few of the guys to join in although they had no idea what their Major was celebrating.
“I need you,” his voice suddenly dropped, setting her down as he turned to the door. “Let’s go.” He was buckling up her coat to make sure she was protected from the freezing London air. She was lucky he was too far gone to scold her for arriving with it unbuckled in the first place - she could get sick.
“John, John - relax, my sweet man,” she laughed, cupping his cheek to get his attention. “We can stay for a while. We don’t have to go yet.”
It’s why she was at the officer’s club in the first place. She had arrived early.
John turned stiff in her hold, straightening to his full height as he suddenly loomed over her. “I’ve got you in my arms for the first time and you want to stay here?” His voice was tight. His face stern.
“Yes - no, I -” she was unsure of where she went wrong or how to fix it. She clasped his hands in hers but he didn’t allow her to thread their fingers together so it was just her holding on. “I just meant we’ve got time, John.”
The way he was looking at her made her want to cry. She felt her lower lip quivering.
She felt ashamed, whispering, trying to get him to keep his cool.
“Time? Time?” He laughed loudly. She was mildly aware of Gale breaking away from a group of guys to near them, worried but she was mostly focused on John. The tense lines on his face even as he laughed and the quirked eyebrow even though she found no amusement in their situation. “You think I’ve got time? You have no idea what it’s like up there.”
She shook her head but didn’t try to verbally explain herself. She wasn’t sure she could manage a few words before breaking into tears.
“Come on, Bucky,” that was Gale stepping in to save the day. Perhaps the only person who could get John to listen. “When have you ever left before dancing with your girl? You gotta show these rookies how it’s properly done right?”
With Gale slapping a hand to John’s shoulders, he seemed to snap out of it. Releasing a deep breath and seemingly all the tightness in body with it.
He leaned down again, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, clasping a hand around her neck so she wouldn’t pull her head back. As their eyes locked she felt a tear fall again and this one wasn’t happy. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. It’s this place. It’s fucking with my head.”
And she chose to believe him, nodding her head in understanding and trying not to think about how she wasn’t his preferred person to write letters to or the one who could clear his head.
Maybe the Colonel should have allowed a weekend pass for Gale and John.
Lila swallowed the thought, allowing John to pull her to the dance floor as he lost all anger and aggression and became charming and loving all over again.
“Everyone, this is my wife!” He bellowed and everyone cheered in response. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and -” he hiccuped and she realized he was drunker than she thought, “and I bet we can out dance any couples here tonight!”
So for the next hour she found herself being twirled around the dance floor by her husband. She almost forgot their prior negative interaction; his love and energy was so infectious. For the slow songs he would hold her close and she would rest her head against his chest, letting it lull her to a relaxing state. He was alive and she was with him. That had to be enough. For the more upbeat songs, he was challenging any couple beside them. Asking those sitting who were better dancers? Who could perform certain dance moves better?
And all throughout, he was like he used to be back home. Loud and happy and the center of attention, keeping everyone entertained. He kept announcing to his boys that his beautiful wife was there and then he’d place a wet kiss on her mouth that had their cheeks (and hers) turning red but all he would do is smile and continue on.
She was finally able to disentangle herself from him when Crosby pulled him in for a conversation. Lila wonders if her state of disheveled hair and panting breaths made him want to aid her in allowing her to sit and grab a refresher.
Once she accepts Crosby’s hug and cheek kiss, she excuses herself to go grab a drink. John only pulls her back once to steal a kiss before she gets too far.
Her lips might be bruised by the time they leave if he kept it up.
She orders a cup of ice water from the man tending the bar, looking back out at her husband as she waits. He’d always been tall and strong, but she notices the change in his posture. The bulges in his arms as he twirled her around and lifted her in the air. His eyes were only bright when he forced it. They had lost their shine and she wishes she brought the picture from back home. Where he looks young and full of life and joyful. Even when he smiles he seems hollow; hopeless.
She’s there but he doesn’t really care because in his head he’s already thinking of when she leaves again.
She wasn’t used to that. Her John only lived in the moment.
“He keepin’ you busy?”
Gale settles up behind her and pushes the glass water towards her. She didn’t even notice when it was put down.
“Dizzy, more like,” she jokes and gets him to crack a smile. She thinks to when she walked in and seen Gale, how he’d been watching the scene unfold but with a disapproving look in his eyes. How he didn’t try to hide the scene from her or excuse it. He let it be. And she knows John has never shied away from attention. He’s always been handsome and charming and girls always swarmed but Lila wasn’t aware she had to be around to keep him loyal. She thought he just was. And she knows it’s not too long before they leave now so she decides to be direct with him. “So, does that happen often?”
She sees Gale’s expression split for a second, like he debates playing dumb before deciding against it and she respects him even more for it.
“I think you should talk to John about it.” He decides on.
“Is it something that needs to be mentioned?” She doesn’t like playing this game with him but she knows at the first words of cheating and adultery Gale is going to excuse himself and her chance will be lost.
She can’t be simple and ask: Does my husband cheat on me?
“Another ginger ale, Marty,” Gale raises two fingers to grab the man’s attention and mutters a thanks as his drink is immediately refilled. He turns his attention back to Lila. “He still loves you, Lila. It’s just - hard. Being out here.”
“You seem to be coping fine.”
She feels bitter. Crazy. There’s a sob she has to choke back.
Lila’s too embarrassed to meet Gale’s gaze. Ashamed that everyone knows what’s been going on and she was the ditzy woman being twirled on the dance floor.
“I think I was used to loneliness. He isn’t.”
And he says nothing else as he leaves her behind heading back to his boys. It’s just Lila and her shattering heart and her husband calling to beckon her back to the dance floor.
Luckily they didn’t stay much longer. She walked over to Bucky but he wasn’t able to pull her back out for a dance - it’s my song, Lila! - because Jack Kidd was approaching, letting them know it was time to leave them at the train station.
Lila waited in the car while Bucky ran into his quarters to pack his bag. He didn’t have many things to take, he would be stuck wearing his uniform anyway. Gale walks him back out to the car and despite the earlier conversation Lila exits the safety of the interior to say her goodbyes.
“Take care of yourself, Major,” she squeezes him, “I need you to stick around after this weekend to look after my man.”
“It’s a hard job but I try,” he replies, both of them ignoring Bucky’s protests.
Besides that, Bucky’s quiet on the ride to the train station. He carries her bag on board but he’s quiet for the duration of the train ride. Lila doesn’t disturb him; he might be tired or hungover or both.
And if she’s honest she’s scared of him snapping at her like the night before.
Instead she takes the time to take him in. He’s handsome in his suit. Tall and big and strong, his sharp jaw and powerful mouth, his eyes blue like a sunny day and his curls coming undone from the gel after all the dancing he did.
Lila doesn’t allow her mind to wander down this path too often but suddenly she can’t help it. Would their baby have looked like him or like her? She wishes more than anything they would have had his ears. She wishes they would have had his heart and his strength - but her loyalty. Her faith in them.
It’s crazy when she stops to think she was nineteen when she married him and now she’s twenty-one. She’s loved him for more than she’s been allowed to have him. She has changed without him like he has without her and it’s frightening to think neither of them could be accepting of those changes. Whatever they may be.
Lila shuts those thoughts out, closing the distance between them to sit on his lap. Passerby’s and his horrible mood and what scares her could be damned to hell - all she wants is her man.
John doesn’t deny her; she admits she was a little scared he would.
“I love you,” she tells him, catching his eyes.
“I know.”
He doesn’t return the words as they continue staring at one another but she refuses to let it get her down. This is her husband. She has the rest of her life to get to know him; new or old habits, she doesn’t care.
So instead, Lila plasters a smile onto her face. “What’re you gonna show me first in London, Major?”
“Well I really wanna show you our hotel room,” he plays along, allowing her to trace the edges of his mustache. She lets out a knowing chortle. “And I really want to show you -” he cuts himself off to look around, making sure no one was near them as he leans in to whisper, “- my cock, Mrs. Egan.”
She turns a bright red, trying to sputter out a proper response for that but all she can do is indignantly scold him. “John Clarence! If your mom were here -” and they both break out in loud laughter at the many possibilities of what his mother would exactly do to him if she heard his wicked mouth.
“Wanna grab some grub first?” He asks instead, knowing she hadn’t eaten at the officers club and before then she had been stuck on a plane. “I know a few places.”
Lila nods happily, pressing a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and as plump as she remembers them. His mustache tickles her.
“Let me feed you first, woman!” He groans, trying to be a gentleman. “When’s the last time you ate?”
She puckers her lips to think about it and that’s the only answer he needs: food is definitely first.
When they arrive at the hotel John enters to check them in but he slips a few bills into the bell boy’s hand with strict instructions to leave the bags in their room before pulling her back out to the London streets.
Lila felt underdressed surrounded by women in diamonds and fancy hats, and it didn’t help that John was beside her in his uniform looking dapper and catching the eye of many. They were stopped multiple times on the way to the diner; men wanting to shake his hand and show their gratitude while the women introduced themselves, uncaring of Lila under his right arm.
As long as he wasn’t ignoring or dismissing her she realized she didn’t really care. It wasn’t much different back home; everyone knew and loved John Egan.
The diner he chose was small and cozy and his legs were too long to fit under their table so his boot and his knee kept bumping into her own and she adored it. She wanted to feel close to him and since sitting on his lap currently wasn’t an option she figured this would have to do.
He tells her many stories but none of them are sad or tragic. He only shares the happy ones. He talks about how he convinced the Colonel to allow Buck, Curt, and himself a London weekend pass one time and they had shoved Gale into a haberdashery where he tried on a multitude of top hats worth more money any of them would ever see combined. But because they were soldiers and majors at that, the owner allowed it. There’s a museum nearby he talks about wanting to take her too, it showcases art from as early as the 1400s and he says he’s gotten lost in there plenty of times and it was lovely.
All the while, she listens without hearing him. Choosing to take him in and letting her mind wander to how it would be if things were different. It pains her to think how much older he looks since she last saw him. Looking more like it was ten years instead of the measly two. John’s always been one to smile freely but the wrinkles by his mouth, eyes, and forehead aren’t from smiling or laughing too much.
Lila knows they’re from worrying and stressing and being scared and she hates that she can’t understand him or be there for him. No matter how hard he tries.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes when a sob breaks free. She curls in over the table and John’s reaching over to rub her shoulders. She grabs a hold of her hand in his. “I just missed you so much.” She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t think I know how to not miss you.”
John doesn’t say anything but he motions a server over to settle the bill and once that’s done, he’s taking her hand and pulling her out the chair.
“You got enough food in you?”
All she can do is nod.
Her body feels electric on the short walk back to the hotel. He doesn’t do more than hold her hand and she thinks that is what has her nerves jittery, his palm in her hand sets her alight. She can feel his rough skin and the calluses on his fingers and the fingertips he runs over her skin and she bites back a moan.
Moaning in the middle of a bustling London street? She’d be thrown into an asylum she’s sure.
Beside her he’s quiet but his steps are quick. She has to lightly jog to keep up with long strides. He pulls on her hand to help her keep pace. It makes her think he’s as impatient for it as she is so she was surprised when upon closing the hotel room behind him he stays by the door. Not nearing or touching or kissing.
Just - nothing.
Her throat becomes tight again as she remembers the girl from the night before and her conversation with Gale. Is that the reason why?
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says before she can spiral any further. Approaching her and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss, wasting no time in sliding his tongue alongside hers.
“I love you,” she responds and once again he doesn’t say it back. She figured he wouldn’t but she wanted to try. He takes her mouth in his again.
She gets irrationally angry, suddenly feeling the need to claim him so she bites at his bottom lip. He pulls back to press a finger to his lip, wiping the blood there.
Lila pulls on his belt, dropping to her knees right there in the middle of the room.
Mine. He’s mine.
“Make me your wife again,” she’s not sure but it sounds like she’s begging as she manages to unbuckle his belt and pull them around his strong thighs.
“God,” he breathed, “fuck. Look at you.”
Swollen lips parted for him to put to use. John wrapped his fist around her long hair to maintain a good grip, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat. There was no resistance, no gag, her body remembering how it was taught to take all of him even though time had passed. John loved that fucking mouth and he found himself angry as thoughts entered his mind - if anyone had fucked her mouth while he’d been away - and he jerks his hips more forcefully. Rough.
This time Lila does gag. Her hand goes to push against his hip but he doesn’t allow her to pull away.
“Did anyone else do this?”
She splutters, eyes on him and confused with a mouthful of cock, unable to talk.
“Did you suck someone else’s cock? This is mine, Lila. Mine.”
He holds her down for a couple of more seconds before allowing her reprieve. She sputters and coughs, looking at him the entire time.
His dick is still hard and long, standing to attention, and he’s not sure whether he should apologize before she’s taking his bobbing dick back into her mouth. To the back of her throat and gulping and fondling his balls. Her nose kissing the coarse hairs on his belly trail and although it feels fucking amazing - he can feel the anger too. Her anger.
How dare he accuse her.
When she pulls off there’s a strand of saliva connecting his prick to her tongue. She has half a mind to go back for more but he’s pulling her back by her hair.
“I’m so lucky to have a wife who’s cock hungry,” he groans, pulling her to her feet by her hair and connecting their mouths in a rough kiss. Their teeths crash and tongues wrestly and he feels fucking crazy that she tastes like him. Simultaneously ripping each other’s clothes off.
Lila didn’t have any warning. One second she was kissing him and ripping open his shirt and the next she was bent over the bed with her ass in the air. John ran a finger over the wet patch on her underwear. The bite on her cheek was also unexpected and she clawed at the sheets, sure she could come from the feeling alone.
“This is mine, Lila,” he leaned in close, burying his face in her underwear. “Mine.”
All she could do was whimper and agree.
John smacked her ass so hard it jiggled. Lila yelled and after the pain ceded, time seemed to stop. Nothing but their rough breathing filling the room. John had never done that before.
She wasn’t sobbing but there were tears escaping. She was sure he didn’t know. He was waiting for a reaction.
Lila wasn’t sure where this side of her husband came from. Had he held back those two months? Did he learn it in Europe? Was that why there was another woman - because she couldn’t satisfy him?
She can’t lose him.
“Please,” she begs, hiding tears in the duvet, “do it again.”
Lies. It was all lies but John believes her and he strikes again. She yelps, fisiting the sheets. He believes it’s in pleasure.
Ten slaps. That’s how many she endures before he begins shushing and petting her again. He runs his fingers through her folds and although she didn’t enjoy the punishment mentally - she did nothing wrong, he was the liar - her body certainly did. She’s sopping wet, she’s gonna have to throw out her underwear because they’re destroyed.
“Did you enjoy that?” He grabs a fistful of her hair to sit her up, her back against his sweaty, matter chest. “You like being spanked, baby?”
“Yes.” It’s only half of a lie.
“Now - now, I’m going to fuck you. Nice and hard, just how you like it,” she wants to scream at him. She wants to hit him. When did she ever like it hard? When was hard ever nice? Who was he thinking about because it wasn’t her.
But at the same time she rocks back against him to feel his cock hard between her cheeks. She can’t say she doesn’t want it. Him. This.
He pushes her back down at her teasing, using his now free hands to spread her cheeks and show her tight asshole. Untouched and pure. He presses the tip of his cock against it but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t move.
She jerks at the pressure. Drools on the mattress as she tries to bite down to temper her screams.
Do it.
No, don’t.
“One day,” he promises, pressing deeper so her hole opens but not deep enough to push. “But today, today I want this.” And without any prepping like she’s used to, without any more warning, he’s sliding down and pushing into her. Hard. Deep.
She screams, can’t help it, claws at the mattress in an attempt to crawl away.
It hurt but it felt so good.
Who was she?
“You think you can go be with other men? Let them use the holes I trained? The ones that belong to me?” He pumps into her deep. Once, twice. She’s so wet the noises filling the room are pornographic, her yelling and his panting and her sopping wet vagina smacking against his thighs and taking his cock so well. “You like it like this, Lila? Like when I fucking own you?”
“Yes, yes,” she swears and this time she isn’t lying. It’s all she can manage; she thinks she’s gone cock dumb. There are no words, no feelings, just the feeling of him filling her.
She clenches tight when he slides out. She wants him inside her forever.
He releases his hold of her hair, stepping away. He’s tired of muffling her moans and words. He’s tired of not being able to see her beautiful face.
John’s favorite face in the entire world.
“Turn around,” he commands.
Lila kneels on wobbly legs as she turns over, having little to no energy and bouncing as her body lands with no grace on the mattress. John grabs one of her jiggling breasts in his large hand, squeezing tightly.
“I fucking missed these.” He takes one in his mouth, biting down on her nipple hard. She shrieks but holds his head to pull him closer.
Her thighs are forced open by his hand and then he’s taking hold of himself and thrusting in deep again. Releasing her breasts from his mouth in order to look at her mouth. Lila’s face when he’s fucking her is as close to heaven as he thinks he’ll ever get. She’s incoherent but she’s begging for more - that much he can make out. She manages to gather the strength to grab hold of him and pull him down, clawing at his back.
He hisses at the pain and bites on her collarbone to reciprocate it.
When she grabs the nape of his neck, the cool touch of her wedding ring against his skin, it gives him pause. This was his wife. His wife.
John has been gone so long he thinks he forgot he was married.
“I love you,” he finally says it, pressing his forehead against hers as he slows down. He sniffles then, leaning down to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against hers and swallow her moans. John can’t believe he forgot he had this; can’t believe he forgot for a minute how lucky he was. She’s gorgeous (and not just externally) and he’s quite sure he somehow managed to dream her up. “I love you,” he swears again.
This time she’s the one who doesn’t say it.
She clutches at neck and pulls him down to take a boob in his mouth. Looking him in the eye hurts too damn much. Why did he have to do this now? She was lost in the pain; she had been taking her punishment.
Lila squeezed her eyes shut, moaning loudly as she thrashed around the bed. Her orgasm taking over her body. She wrapped both legs tighter around John, squeezing and pulsing around him and dragging him to the edge with her.
“Fuck, fuck,” he roared, “so damn tight. Yes, Lila. My perfect wife.”
For a couple of seconds, they lay in the aftermath. Lila could feel the heat of John’s breath against her neck. She counted how many breaths they shared in between one another as they recuperated.
Forty-seven that’s how many breaths they shared as they stayed connected.
Forty-eight that’s when John managed to lift his head and place a peck against her mouth. One she didn’t return.
Forty-nine that’s when John pulled back in concern. Lila was so still.
Fifty. That’s the breath she used to say, “you cheated on me,” looking him right in the eyes as she broke out in uncontrollable sobs.
She cried and cried underneath him. Unable to move because her legs felt like jello and they held no power. Unable to push him off because she didn’t want to let him go. Unable to speak because she was suffocating in her heartbreak.
John watched her until he couldn’t, until he was afraid she was going to choke on her own tears and then he was sitting her up, trying to ignore the way she fought against his touch.
I’m sorry, I’m here, he kept saying.
I hate you, she thought but didn’t say.
Until finally, “don’t touch me!” She yelled when he got too close and made to wrap her up in a hug. “Get away from me, John. Stay away.” She crawled to the edge of the bed and curled herself into a tiny ball. Aware she was fully naked and he was still leaking out of her but she couldn’t find it in herself to do anything except cry.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t open her lungs and get any air in. She slapped at the headboard, aware that she was having a panic attack as suddenly everything hit her all at once. It was entirely consuming and she couldn’t do anything to fight against it except cry. All the feelings rushed her at once.
This was going to be it. The weekend of two lovers reunited was the weekend from hell and this was going to be it. She was going to return home in a day and he would stay in Europe and continue to fight the war and seek out other girls and when he returned she wouldn’t be his wife anymore.
Lila would be scornful and full of resentment and miserable and he would leave her. This last time was going to be all she had and she hated him for ruining it.
Why couldn’t he hide his affairs better?
Why did she have to surprise him?
She was perfectly happy not knowing. She was worried and stressed to hell and crying every night missing him but, oh God, all that was better than this.
Lila isn’t sure how long it’s been since she last took a breath but she feels herself fading. She’s shivering and naked in their bed and she can only slightly take in that John’s wrapping her up in the duvet and curling himself around her to warm her up. She’s trying to tell him she can’t breathe, she’s suffocating, at the same time he’s blowing air in her face.
She’s fading when she feels it. A sting on the left side of her face. Hard and sharp and enough to have her gasping for a deep breath.
“Baby, please, wake up,” he’s crying over her, his head on her chest, “wake up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Her chest aches. She coughs.
He whips his head up so fast she almost laughs. Almost.
“Lila,” he holds her against his chest, rocking them back and forth on the bed as she takes in her surroundings. She isn’t sure how long she was out or how long she was panicking for. Had the sun been setting while she lost her shit? It was dark outside now. “Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. Please.”
She taps at his arms to get him to release. She doesn’t think she can talk.
John allows her the space but he doesn’t remove himself from the bed. He stays kneeling, watching her. His hands keep twitching like he wants to reach out and touch her but he’s trying to respect her wishes of not being touched.
She doesn’t lay back down, she stays resting against the headboard. Breathing hurts. She’s scared of suffocating once more. Her left cheek begins burning and she wishes she had the strength to go look in the mirror. Did he mark her? She hopes he did.
Lila’s glad he made it hurt.
“You need to go,” she finally manages to say, ignoring the way he’s already shaking his head in defiance. “Leave me here, John. I want you to go. Get another room.” Find another woman. “I leave in a day.” She wishes she never came to stupid London. She wishes she could forget this entire trip.
“Lila it’s the war,” he starts, shaking in his own tears. “It’s all the shit I see, baby. None of it was because of you okay? None. You don’t fucking know what it’s like up there for us but I stay alive in hopes of coming home to you.” He promises.
She shakes her head, fighting back any more tears. How the hell could she still have any tears left?
“But Gale didn’t cheat,” it bursts out of her before she can stop it and she knows it’s the wrong thing to say entirely.
John stops his apologies, clearing his throat as he gets up and begins dressing into his suit. She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t take back any of what she said. She gets tired of sitting so she lays on her side, staring out the window and noticing London doesn’t have many stars. Is that why it’s so horrible here? Because there were no stars to wish upon.
She could hear his boots stomping on the ground as he reached the door. “Maybe you should have married Gale fucking Cleven then.” And the door slams shut behind him.
She wonders if he’s angry enough to find a girl and sleep with her. Her eyes blur. The time on the clock is six p.m and London’s already dark. She realizes she hasn’t slept since her plane ride. About 19 hours awake - her and John.
Lila allows her eyes to close, hoping when she wakes everything will be better.
Shadows over her eyelids wake her up. Lila finds she hasn’t moved. She’s in the same position facing the window. Facing London, only now bombs are dropping over it. The prettiest colors burst forward in the window but she knows it's truly only tragedy and loss. Murder.
She recognizes John sitting in the arm chair and she wonders when he got back. He isn’t facing her, he’s watching bomb after bomb drop and land no more than mere miles away from them. He’s holding a whiskey on ice, twirling the ice so it hits against the glass.
Lila wonders then if it was the shadows or the noise that woke her up.
“I must have punched in my card a long time ago,” his voice is strong in the dead of the night, seemingly even louder than when he’s singing in the pub. “It must be the reason for all of this. Karma.” He scoffs.
I deserve this, is what he’s trying to say.
Lila feels her stomach twist and spin and there’s bile sitting in her throat. She closes her eyes to stop herself from imagining John in a plane, dropping a bomb that lands on children. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see the hurt sitting on his shoulders.
She remembers how angry she was when he first signed up. Before they were married. They had been dating for over a month, barely, and she already scribbled ‘Mrs. Egan’ over her notebooks. She’d heard it from his younger sister, Eileen, and she felt her world stop. She hadn’t hesitated to run to the stables he worked at and confront him in front of all the men.
“You’re leaving me,” she had accused him. “You’re gonna leave! I’ll never forgive you, John Egan.”
And in front of everyone he’d knelt down and produced a ring, the one his father had given his mother and said, “Marry me.” He didn’t ask because they both knew it wasn’t a question.
She was already his.
And he was hers.
Lila had forgiven him and promised to love, honor, and obey for the rest of her life.
She doesn’t have the strength to stand so even though her throat burns she speaks. “Lay with me,” she croaks. Her voice is raspy and broken and even clearing it aches.
John shakes his head. “You don’t want me to.”
“Lay with me,” she repeats, firm. “I just want to fall asleep with you.”
He looks at her like he's scared to believe. Trying to figure out whether she’s simply being cruel and going to kick him out in her next breath. Or more likely, he’s scared she’ll lose her shit being near him again.
John, hopeful and never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, sets his drink down and nears the bed. Lila keeps her eyes locked on his and he does the same. Their moves and tension resemble a game of chicken, one of them afraid any sudden change can have the other running off.
“Take off your uniform,” she says when he pushes back the covers while still fully dressed. He jerks his head in confusion and she bites her lip to contain a laugh at his dirty mind. Sex is the last thing on her mind. “I want to feel you, that’s all.”
John does as she asks, setting his cap down and shredding every layer before he’s naked and gorgeous and sliding in beside her. She doesn’t allow herself to think about what it means when she immediately slides closer.
Lila’s the one to wrap her arms around him.
Lila’s the one to intertwine their legs.
John follows her lead, lifting an arm so she can raise her head and use it as a pillow. She scoots her face closer and she nuzzles into her armpit, smelling his deodorant and feeling his hairs poke at her nose. She moves further along, escaping the cocoon of his armpit to press her cheek against his chest. She clutches his dog tags in her palm, tight, so he can’t get up in the middle of the night.
“Can we fall asleep together?” She asks, but when she looks up John’s already there.
The next time Lila wakes up her palm aches. She releases what she’s gripping, remembering how she clung to John’s dog tags when he slid into bed beside her. She lifts her head and finds John already looking at her.
He’s got the saddest eyes she’s ever seen and she hates that she’s partly why.
“We should talk,” her voice is low and cracks from not being used. John nods his head but makes no move to begin.
Lila lays her head back on his chest, lightly picking at his matted, curly chest hair. She presses her lips to a freckle near his nipple and his intake of breath lets her know he felt it,
“I’m not the one you write the most letters too,” she starts, finding it easier to not have to look him in the eye. “You write the most to your mom. And I’m not the one who can calm you down when your anger gets the best of you,” she’s so tired of crying, “that’s Gale. “And I can’t even be here for you at the end of a mission to console you or kiss you or help you forget,” she chokes on a sob. “That’s whoever else.”
I couldn’t even keep our baby healthy, she leaves out.
“What’s your point with all this, Lila?”
Lila lifts her head from his chest, “My point is I’m a horrible wife. I - I don’t know if it was too soon or just not thought out but this - I- ” she can’t get the rest of the words out.
“Don’t say that,” John sits up against the headboard, forcing her up as well. He grabs both her wrists in one of his hands to pull her closer and grab her attention. “Don’t fucking tell me that, Lila.”
“I don’t make you happy,” she shakes her head.
“You do. Everything I do, everything I’m doing - it’s for you Lila.”
“I don’t want to marry Gale. Or someone like him. I love you. Only you. But I’m scared that I don’t make you happy. You deserve better.”
“Oh you dumbass,” John coos, suddenly finding the entire situation amusing. He pulls her in for a hug. “You’re my entire fucking heart, Lila Egan. You don’t think you make me happy? You’re the only thing in my life, in my head, that makes me happy.”
She pulls away to hold his face. “If you’re gonna leave me John you need to tell me now. I don’t care about the girls if all they are is to pass the time. And I don’t care that you write to your mom more than me and I don’t care that Gale is the one you listen to but I just need to be the one you love the most. I need to know I’m making you happy.”
His heart aches at the fact that he made her feel she was ever anything less than the most important person in his life. “Lila,” he presses a kiss to her lips, “Rose,” another kiss, “Egan,” another. “Are my only reason for staying alive.”
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ok yeah I'll bite what the fuck was Diane's problem because holy SHIT
What The Fuck WAS Diane's Problem, indeed. I lost contact with her since I quit that hellhole, and I'm not sorry. (Please picture a petite, thin, golden-blonde white woman around age 50 wearing high-end boho/athleisure clothes.) But her Fun Quirks included:
being like. weirdly dedicated to our crappy retail job at a company run by a former real estate bro. we sold fancy stone tableware and got commission, so she would hang around after her shift in case someone she'd talked to earlier came back to buy. to make sure SHE got the commission from the sale. we each had individual passcodes for the register, so she could clock out at the correct time and still get sales credited to her. a few times she got mad at me for "stealing" her sale (read: ringing someone up who she'd previously talked to, like an hour into my shift)
pushiness. EXTREME pushiness. she had amazing sales numbers, probably because she wouldn't take no for an answer. I once saw her chase a man down who had walked away from the shop, because she'd chatted with him but he hadn't bought anything. she chided me for "letting him walk away" afterwards
toxic positivity. I once commented, during a shift change, that the market where we worked seemed slow that day. with a big sweet smile, she told me to NEVER say that because we needed to be giving off positive energy that we'd get lots of sales. um. okay
as previously mentioned, being super-pumped at the idea of our boss taking our stool away and mad when I pointed out that that was, how you say, literally illegal in our state (because "nobody needs to be sitting; it doesn't look welcoming!")
her email was something like [email protected]. very business-y. I asked what her other job was. turns out that was just her personal address; she didn't have a business or a side gig or anything
She let everyone think she was a manager. We didn’t have a manager; just the owner and the salespeople.
She tried to gaslight me into thinking she had been there as long as I had (she hired on a year after me) and therefore had seniority. Again, none of us had power over each other
the stealing from the register thing, which was just bizarre. at 23, working my second post-college job, I was desperately trying not to get in trouble; at 31 I would stand my ground more. In short: the exact amount I’d taken in cash went missing a few hours into my shift, when Diane was hanging around as usual. She knew where we hid the register key when we went to the bathroom, nobody would have looked askance at her rooting around in the stall, and when I called her panicking after mid-shift drawer count, she was ADAMANT that I must have forgotten to take the cash from all three customers who had paid me that way.
To the point where, when I called the boss to report the incident and hesitantly said “I think I might have forgotten-“ she barked at me “NO. YOU KNOW. YOU KNOW THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED. YOU DON’T THINK; YOU KNOW.”
I did not fucking forget to take cash from three separate customers and if this happened today, her response would raise a huge red flag for me
There was no camera on the register area so I could never prove anything. But money went missing from the drawer “overnight” after two other people’s shifts, who hardly seemed like thieving types, and Diane was all too ready to cluck over their alleged crimes. And since she was always gunning for more shifts…I don’t know. It was just very weird.
She ultimately got her wish when almost everyone else quit- and then became burned-out by manning the stall single-handedly. Womp womp.
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Kisses Taste Like Candy
Part 1
-Orla McCool x Michelle Mallon
-Didn’t proof read it so I’m sure it’s not the greatest
-I have never lived in Ireland or even pretended to so I’m not so good at the slang part
Summary: Jenny Joyce is Evil and it doesn’t get better during summer home from university. What’s the worst that could happen during spin the bottle.
“You can’t be serious!” I said.
“Come on Michelle it’s just a wee peck you don’t even have to do anything.” Claire whispered. Since college she has grown a bit of a spine it seems must be the college girls.
“It’s Orla for christs sake!” I said glancing at the girl in question she was focused on something else entirely already bored with the game they had just started playing. Whoever said spin the bottle would be fun lied.
“Is it because she’s a girl?” Claire asked me with a flash of hurt in her eyes.
“No, I’ve been to college parties Claire I’ve probably kissed more girls than you’ve even looked at.” I said.
“But you both went to an all girls catholic school.” James pointed out.
“A rides a ride James.” I said blushing a bit.
“So then what’s the problem?” Erin asked.
“Is someone backing down?” Jenny Joyce taunted. She had already came out on top in this game not only avoiding all of the girls but managing to get to make out with the hottest man to ever step foot in Derry.
“I’m not backing down I just don’t think it’s fair to Orla is all.” I explained. Jenny smirked her wicked smirk and looked to Orla who was busy taking the ends of her hair and individually separating the section strand by strand almost as if she was counting them.
“She gets a pass doesn’t she?” James asked.
“Yeah, she does.” Erin smiled.
“It’s not a pass though.” Claire said remembering the rules.
“That’s correct Claire, Michelle can pass but she would have to take whoever it lands on next and the person who goes after her has to take Orla.” Aisling said with a sad look on her face. She had only gotten nicer being away from Jenny and her influence but she was still the loyal puppet to the superior girl. I looked next to me as Orla tuned back into the game.
“Oi I’ve got no problem with making out with her, she’s a ride.” The male to my left said. I shot glare at James who earlier had decided to make me sit next to the absolute dickhead who was currently staring at Orla in a way that would make even the brightest girls feel uncomfortable.
“Sorry what did I miss?” Orla asked as she looked at everyone staring at her. She turned red from the attention. I had to admit the dance classes she had been taking were paying off, she chose to stay in Derry and work at the local animal shelter after school.
“You were picked for spin the bottle and Michelle passed on you.” Jenny said harshly. Orla didn’t understand though.
“I thought we were playing tag.” She frowned.
“Tonsil tag.” Jenny Joyce said with a snicker.
“I don’t have my tonsils anymore Jenny, your da took em.” Orla scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. The ballbag next to me stood up and walked over to Orla grabbing her arm hoisting her up.
“Hey! Wait!” I said as I saw Orlas look of confusion once she stood facing him. He had already put his hand on her face.
“You already passed.” The guy said holding Orla possessively.
“I didn’t officially, I just hesitated.” I said nervously standing up quickly to take his place. Typically we didnt have to stand for this stupid game but the fucker had to make it a big deal.
“Go on then Michelle.” Jenny said. I glared at her as the asshole petted Orla’s head and then winked at me and sat back down. I stood in front of the taller girl.
“You alright Michelle?” She smiled at me as she looked less uncomfortable with a familiar face in front of her.
“I’m alright Orla.” I said.
“Enough of the small talk.” Jenny said with her arms crossed.
“I’m gonna kiss you now Orla is that ok?” I asked silently hoping she’d say no.
“Alright Michelle.” She said. I leaned in and placed my hand on her cheek looking carefully in her eyes for any sign that she changed her mind. She closed her eyes as my lips were mere millimeters from hers. I rolled my eyes and just went for it connecting our closed lips in a very innocent kiss. She had lip gloss on. I could smell the little alcohol she had drank mixing with the cotton candy flavored lip smacker she insisted on applying anytime she could, the smell was intoxicating. Her lips were soft and warm. I felt her jaw open slightly and on instinct deepened the kiss a bit quickly going from a quick peck to full snog. I could taste the lip gloss now mixing with the lingering taste of Tequila on my own tongue. I was addicted. I came back into my brain for a minute when I realized that Orla wasn’t participating as much as I was. I pulled away quickly and breathed heavy as if I just ran a marathon. Orla’s brown eyes were staring back at me. I put my hand to my lips covering the evidence as best I could. Orla’s face was flushed. I began to panic, how could I have done that with one of my best friends, the sweetest and most innocent of us all. I felt the sharp sting of tears in my eyes as I ran out of the room. I heard James calling after me but I kept running until I couldn’t breathe anymore and noticed I had ran all the way to finnoulas. I bent over and clutched my sides as I fought to get air to stay in my lungs.
“Stupid Michelle! How could you do that! She’s never gonna speak to you again!” I yelled at myself. I tried to dissect every second of the kiss. The smell the taste the feelings, everything. I panicked more when I realized that I actually really liked kissing Orla and I found myself wishing I could do it again. I almost started running again but a small voice stopped me.
“Michelle, are you alright?” Orla asked as I stood up straight still struggling to breathe properly.
“I’m sorry Orla. I shouldn’t have agreed to kiss you, that wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve just said we should leave.” I apologized.
“Michelle.” She started but I cut her off.
“And I’m sorry I stuck my tongue in your mouth, that was uncalled for and I totally understand if you never want to speak to me ever again.” I said with tears in my eyes now. She opened her mouth to speak but I couldn’t stop.
“You are one of my best friends Orla and I’ve gone and messed that up just because Jenny Joyce is an evil cunt.” I said with tears blurring my eyes until Orla was just a smudge in front of me. Before she could say anything I heard more footsteps approaching quickly. I saw it was the other girls and James.
“Is everything alright?” James asked noticing I was crying. He knew I wasn’t one to cry over just anything. I shook my head. I didn’t dare look at Orla who was still trying to get a word in while Erin, Claire, and James fussed over me.
“I’m gonna take her home.” I heard James say as he put his arm around me and walked us towards our house which wasn’t too far away.
“Wait..” I heard Orla say but Erin had pulled her in the other direction.
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triptychofvoids · 8 hours
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(that feeling when you write an ask thinking "come on, what's the worst thing which could happen?" and now you write it for the third time)
1. We don't have exact information in canon about for how long the mercs have been working and whether they all joined in at the same time or not, do we?
What were your personal thoughts about it, like, how do you see it? If they didn't all join at the same time and let's say were becoming mercs one by one, who joined earlier: Medic or Engineer? (egg or chicken)
2. What were the first "science party's members" thoughts about each other? Were they thinking "he's a creep, and I'm not" OR SOMETHING,,, JUST GENUINELY CURIOUS ABOUT THIS ONE
3. What were the first interactions between Medic and Engie? What caused it? Was it forced? Like "a problem which has to be solved or the team dies" (something similar to what was going on in expiration date) or was it initiated by one of them? Or a pure accident maybe?
That will be it for now, those should be easier to answer!!
1] the team as you know it was more or less assembled by 1968, but not everyone joined all at once, some of us were on the team or working with others beforehand, others joined later and.. well, its a little complicated. i can tell you that dell joined first. in fact, he was one of the first to be recruited! family business. i joined a little later, but if you're curious, most of us have known each other in some capacity since at least 1964 or so.... like i said though, its a little complicated.
2] first ever impressions? hm.... something along these lines.
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3] oh, no, our first interactions certainly werent forced! at least, i dont think they were. as with most of the team starting out, our interactions were purely work based and mostly on the battlefield, so i suppose you could consider that to be forced in a way.... but our first interactions off the battlefield certainly werent! no world ending threat at that point, unfortunately, but equally as important to me! i think at that time i was working on the first prototype for one of the alternate mediguns! i figured the best place to get parts for that sort of thing would be the engineers workshop, and then. well, im not really sure? i cant actually remember at what point we actually became friends, but as far as first genuine interactions go, i think we must have broken some sort of record.
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Will Graham X Reader: Academic validation
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Warnings: smut, switch reader x switch will, use of pet names (darling, baby), drinking, fluff, making out, cowgirl, penetration (p in v), cowgirl, oral (f receiving), handjob, female anatomy, gender neutral reader no use of y/n.
Word Count: 2,5K
You really should be paying attention to the lecture. And boy were you trying to but his fucking hands. His fucking hands were driving you insane. Every time he fidgeted with them as he spoke or used them to point out a particular aspect of the crime he was analyzing you found yourself distracted.
It wasn’t hard to have a crush on Will. He was an attractive guy. An attractive slightly older guy who passed off a sort of touch starved vibe. You had a thing for guys like that. The only problem was that he was your teacher. All though you didn’t think that should matter. You were an adult who was capable of making your own choices and so was Will. The real issue was the way that your little crush had started affecting your learning. You tried to pay attention to what Will was saying but as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips you could help but think of kissing him. You were so deep in thought you didn't notice him finish his lecture. And you didn’t notice as your colleagues shuffled out of the classroom. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone calling your name. Your eyes found Will's frame. He was sitting on top of his desk, eyes locked onto you. You stared at him in silence.
“You okay?”
His brows furrowed in worry as he continued to observe you. Gosh he was cute like this. You shook your head letting out a small laugh.
“Yeah. Sorry Mr.Graham must have gotten caught up in my own head.”
“Will’s fine.”
“Sorry what?”
“Oh uh you can just call me Will.”
“Oh okay Will. I’ll get out of your hair.”
You picked up your textbook, shoving it in your bag before moving down the steps towards Will's desk. You gave him a small smile as you made your way to the door.
“Are you sure you're okay?”
His question made you freeze. You turned around so that you were facing him. His hands were pushed up against his desk drawing attention to his muscles. You bit the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to focus on his face.
“Why do you ask?”
“I just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. You usually participate a lot in class. But you’ve been really quiet this past week. It got me wondering.”
“Can i be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days and I'm having trouble keeping up in class. I didn't want to say anything because I know what everyone will say.”
“What will they say?”
“That I'm not cut out for this.”
Will let out an understanding hum. He pushed his body off the desk, turning his back to you as he made his way to his chair. You watched him, taking in how his body moved.  On instinct you found yourself moving towards his desk. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling you to him. 
“When I started teaching people thought I wasn't gonna last a week. They thought I was too odd. Too sensitive to handle a classroom dynamic. Do you know what I did?”
You shake your head. 
“I proved them wrong.”
Will grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. A moment of silence passed over the room. Will was deep in thought. You could tell just by looking at him. You thought of going on your way but before you could move Will started to speak once more.
“Show me what you’re having a hard time with.”
“Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that. You have to go home and i-”
“Do you have plans?”
You didn’t, not unless you count eating dinner alone and watching a movie before bed as plans. 
“You’re sure I won't be a bother?”
“Not at all. Believe it or not I actually enjoy teaching. Could you just do me a favor first?”
“Yeah sure, what do you need?”
“Close the door will you?”
You placed your bag on Will’s desk before walking to the door. You stuck your head out looking at the empty hall. You shut the door carefully before turning around. Your eyes fell on Will's frame. He was sitting on his desk, his hand slicking back his hair as he waited for you.
You were stuck in a room with Will Graham. 
What had you gotten yourself into?
It turns out there was a lot more you’d missed then you had anticipated. Will didn’t seem to mind though. He went over every case you didn’t remember and never judged you for missing any clues. Even if they were kind of obvious. After a while the two of you drifted into other topics. You told Will about your life and he shared stories of his dogs. At some point Will had pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk and everything seemed to go downhill from there.
You were currently sitting on the floor desperately trying to breathe in between laughs. Will had just told you about the time Winston had run away and gotten sprayed by a skunk. 
“I swear I couldn't get the smell out of the house for a week. And the other dogs didn’t want to go near him. They treated him like he was contagious.”
“You’re kidding!” “I swear!” 
The sound of yours and Will's laugh filled the room again. He let out a deep sigh, finally managing to regain his breath. When you met his gaze he had a smile plastered on his face.
“What is it?”
“Oh nothing. It’s just been a while since I've done something like this.”
“What, gotten drunk in a classroom?”
“Had a fun time with someone.”
Your stomach did a flip at Will's words. You knew he wasn’t a typically social guy but you imagined he had friends. You’d seen him talking to Dr.Bloom a couple of times and couldn’t help but notice how he looked at him.
It was the same way you looked at him. 
“Hey.”
Will placed his hand on yours leaning his head to the side.
“Did I say something?”
“No. Sorry. Just having a hard time believing you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nevermind. I should get going. It's getting late.”
You rose from the ground. Will mirrored your movements, rising to his feet as well. You downed the last of your drink, placing your cup down on Wills desk. You accidentally knocked your bag down in the process, causing your things to go spilling out everywhere.
“Oh fuck me.”
“Here let me help.”
Will crouched down beside you helping you gather your things. The two of you moved without paying too much attention,  the alcohol in your system making you clumsy. Somehow you managed to knock your head into Will's nose.
“Oh shit sorry Will.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. You might be bleeding. Here let me take a look.”
You guided Will to his chair, your things forgotten on the floor. He sat down, his hand still applying pressure to his nose. You placed a hand on top of him, guiding him to let go. He understood your request. Your fingers moved carefully over his nose, trying to see if anything was bruised. Will hissed as you touched a tender spot.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m not a doctor but i don't think anything is broken. And you're not bleeding so you should be fine.”
Instinctively you placed your hand on Will's cheek. You watched him close his eyes, learning into your touch. Slowly Will opened his eyes. His blue orbs bore into you. He was looking up at you with puppy eyes. Your breath sped up at the sight. His lips parted slightly to whisper your name. Will's hand moved to the back of your leg. He pushed your body closer to his, hand wrapping around your thigh. You lifted your leg allowing him to guide you onto his lap. Will moved his head to the side, moving to kiss your wrist. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he continued to kiss down your arm. A gasp left your mouth as Will pressed his face into your chest, his arms wrapping around your back as he desperately tried to be closer to you. You could feel his tongue though the fabric of your shirt. The feeling caused you to throw your head back as your hands made their way into Will’s curls. You heard him call your name again making you look down at him. He had his head against your chest, his beautiful blue eyes staring up at you.  
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Will pulled you down into him, allowing the two of you to be face to face. The kiss was gentle and far too quick for your liking. Your lips parted for each other. Will put his hand on your cheek. His thumb moved over your lips, caressing them. You opened your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the tip of his digit. Will let out a shuddered breath at the action. You smirked at him. 
“You should be careful darling. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?”
The grin that made its way onto Will's face could only be described as wolfish. Before you knew it Will had risen from his seat and placed you on the ground. He wasted no time working his way into your pants. You gasped as his fingers played with your folds.
“This wet already?”
“In all honesty i’ve been wet since we started talking.”
“Jesus baby.”
“I think about you a lot. In class. In bed. Anywhere really.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you think about?”
“Your hands, your back, what you’d look like naked.”
“So that's why you’re behind? Been to busy thinking of fucking me to pay attention.”
“Yes…”
Will tugged at your pants, pulling them down your leg. You lifted your hips to help him out. He lent down, placing a kiss to your thighs and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Will grazed his teeth against your skin and then continued to kiss the spot.
“Will, please.”
“What do you want?”
“Anything, just please give me something.”
“Only cause you’ve been good.”
A moan broke from your lips as Will's tongue moved over your folds. You placed your hand over your face, head turning to the side as Will ate you out. He was skilled. A lot more skilled than you’d imagined him to be. The way his tongue moved over your pussy had you screaming out for him. Your sounds seemed to spur him on because whenever you let out a yelp, Will would focus all his energy into that spot. His palm was splayed against your chest, fingers gripping at your breast.
You wrapped your hands around Will's wrist dragging his hand up to your face. You placed two of his fingers into your mouth sucking on them eagerly. Will let out a grunt at the feeling, his hips moving against the carpet for some much needed friction. You watched him hump the carpet like a dog in heat and you couldn’t help but want to pleasure him too. You wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel because he deserved it. But at the moment you were far more focused on cumming.
“Will, baby, I'm so close…”
“Yeah. You gonna cum for me?”
“Ah Will-shit ugh-please.”
Will seemed to know exactly what you were begging for. He placed a kiss on your clit as he inserted two fingers into you. The combination of his fingers inside you, his tongue on you and the sight of the blissed out look on his face had you cumming in seconds. You yelled out his name, your hand tugging on his curls as you came. Will laid down beside you as you came down from your high. His hand went to his dick, tugging at his pants in an attempt to get some relief. You tried to catch your breath, tilting your head to look at Will. You noticed how he fidgeted with his hard on. You called out his name, making him tilt his head to look at you. 
“What is it?”
“Touch yourself for me.”
Will hesitated for a moment, eyes searching for your approval.
“It’s okay baby, you can touch yourself. It’s your reward for making me feel good.”
It was funny how quickly you managed to switch roles and by the look on Will's face you could tell he enjoyed it. Will opened his zipper, his hand moving to free his member. You inched closer to him, nuzzling your face into the croak of his neck. Will whined as he started stroking his dick. You unbuttoned his shirt, placing your hand on his skin. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pleasure himself.
“That’s it baby.”
“Oh fuck. Want to…”
“Tell me what you need, Will.”
“Need to be inside of you.”
“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”
You pushed your body off the ground, moving to be on your hands and knees. You crawled over Will's body maneuvering yourself so you were hovering over his dick. You placed your hands on his chest bracing yourself. Will humped into you causing his dick to nudge against your cunt. 
“Ah ah patience Will.”
“Sorry.”
Slowly you sank down onto his dick. His hands gripped your hips instinctively. You let out a breath, trying to adjust to his size. You clenched around Will, making him grunt at the feeling. You lifted your hips before dropping back down. Will moved in unison with you, his hand playing with your nipples as you continued to ride him. Your nails dug into his chest as you moved, the sounds he was letting out only spurring you on. You could feel your upcoming orgasm causing you to fasten your movements. 
“Fuck i’m gonna cum. Gotta get out darling.”
Will moved to tug you on him but you sank your nails into his shoulders. He looked up at you with a startled look. 
“I’m on the pill. Cum inside just please…fill me up. I want you to fill me up.”
You had no idea what your words did to him but it became clear a few seconds later. You barely had time to register Wills orgasm before your own ripped through you. You sagged onto his chest exhaustion finally catching up to you. Will placed a kiss on your neck before nuzzling his nose into you. You caressed his chest as you two tried to recover.
“Think you’ll be able to pay attention in class now?”
“No fucking way.”
Will's laugh filled the room, his vibrating against yours. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound.
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hiso03 · 1 day
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do you think there's a reason why the justice league pretty much abandoned hal when he's trying seeking for help (heck even ollie says to him that he should fuck off 😭😭) like their the main build up why hal becomes a supervillain
but I guess that's just how the league was written in the silver age, like if the emerald twilight was written today I don't think the league would treat hal that way
I honestly think there are reasons for everyone to tell Hal to hell, I don't think they're valid reasons, but they are reasons.
I guess it plays a big role that everyone was too busy dealing with their own to also pay attention to Hal's problems and the best thing they could think of to do was minimize Hal's pain. Tell him to get over the death of his best friend, the destruction of his coastal city, his age crises, among other things.
Personally, whenever I read "Emerald Twilight" and remember everything in the background, it pains me to remember that all of that was a product of how lonely and neglected Hal was.
"His friends" invalidate him and tell him to move on with his life, when Hal can barely stand up.
I think that the attitude that they have is also something that I have seen many times in real life with several friends. 
It is difficult and tiring to deal with a person who has mental problems.
It takes patience and empathy to understand what's going on, and a lot of times that's not even enough.
When you are so used to seeing a person you love and know perfectly well be so happy, and just months later you must see how they slowly fall into an abyss and how the smile and attitude you were used to disappears and becomes a blur dead in life, it is difficult to deal with and many people tend to leave.
Am I trying to justify what the league did to Hal in the 1980s by leaving him alone and minimizing his feelings and then looking at him as scum when he became a callous and depressive villain?
No, of course not.
But I think I can understand why they acted the way they did.
Still, he didn't justify them, and it still hurts me to realize that Hal was left alone when he needed someone most.
(Parallax would never have happened if Barry had been alive, because Barry wouldn't have pressured him like that and tried to help him, and no one's going to be able to change my mindset about it.)
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batbeato · 1 day
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Someone asked me on my retrospring if I preferred the Umineko manga or VN. (I prefer the VN, for a lot of extra details and lovely prose).
But that reminded me of the manga-specific Confession chapters, which I have an incredible amount of issues with, so I'd like to talk about that a bit.
The very first problem with it is this: it goes against the fundamental principles of Umineko, not just in opening the catbox, but in how it contradicts Sayo's character.
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Sayo wrote her forgeries and created her entire murder mystery to confess her crimes and try to have someone understand her feelings. They feel so much shame and guilt over everything that they are incapable of openly confessing to someone about everything and must instead use this oblique method. Even Beatrice never openly confesses everything, no matter how hard she is trying to get Battler to understand her. Even when she must use the red truth to deny witches against EVA, she asks Battler to cover his ears so that he doesn't hear it.
Why would Sayo create this direct confession of everything and then put it into the sea like all their other message bottles? Genuinely... why? They are already writing their forgeries as confessions and want someone to use those to understand them. This is what multiple characters state Beatrice's goal is and also state that someone understanding her will grant her peace/happiness.
The answer is that there is no reason besides a contrivance to:
a. have Ange (and us, the audience) learn about Sayo's backstory without having love to "see" it
b. explain why Ikuko (and thus Tohya) know everything about Sayo to be able to write their forgeries (a lesser reason, but one nevertheless, that also reduces the potential effort Tohya spent to learn more about Sayo by studying her forgeries)
Also, this manga differs from how EP7 frames Yasu as a bodiless being, one without a sense of self who takes on different "roles" - Yasu becomes Beatrice, but is also separate from Beatrice in the narration, speaking of "us" but not speaking of a self as "myself" or "me". They can become their personas, but they are not their personas directly.
In Confession, we see that everyone besides "Sayo" is just an illusion or fake, centering Sayo as "the real one".
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"And when I was myself, I could actually smile and be happy" - implying that Beatrice and Kanon are not her true self, and only "Shannon" is, as Shannon isn't mentioned in the above section.
Another thing is that this chapter introduces more contradictions than just characterization ones. Nanjo mentions that Natsuhi pushed the servant and baby off the cliff.
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However, how does Nanjo know this? I tried to figure this out, as someone asked me about it on here before. But no one was there at the time. They had to have guessed this, or assumed this, or else somehow overheard Natsuhi talking about it.
Was this line meant to confirm that Natsuhi did, without a doubt, push Lion off the cliff? But this was already pretty much confirmed, given Lion's existence and all the discussion about it in 5 and 7.
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Also, it seems as though it's trying to confirm that Sayo is trans and AMAB, but Nanjo specifically says "though you could not bear children". Hopefully some weird translation thing... on the official translation... (@dainadjakyou checked her Japanese copy and thankfully this is a mistranslation; it's meant to be that Sayo is unable to have children in general).
But otherwise, well. It doesn't manage to even confirm that Sayo is AMAB, whether that line is a mistranslation or not, since if Sayo was born with ovaries and those ovaries were destroyed by the accident, Sayo's body wouldn't produce enough estrogen to have a feminizing puberty, which would be similar to if Sayo was born with testes that were destroyed (not enough T for a masculinizing puberty).
I should also mention that for whatever reason, even though it canonizes the fact that Sayo has a scar on their abdomen, this scar is never depicted despite the fact that we see Sayo's abdomen. Just didn't draw it. So it has internal contradictions, too.
Oh, it does confirm that apparently Jessica didn't know that Kinzo was dead. Somehow.
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It also tries to confirm or at least more heavily imply that Kinzo was responsible for the Italian/Japanese fighting in EP7.
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As much as Confession confirms some details, overall it contradicts Sayo's character and other depictions of them in the story while also adding some new contradictions, not managing to properly confirm several things it clearly wants to hammer in, and also contradicts itself at some points due to what I'm assuming is either artistic oversight or poorly thought out stylistic choice.
Opening the catbox didn't need to be this way. And yet, it is.
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chlo-le-mouton · 2 years
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I need more Moomin content I might give Moominvalley a third chance
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millenianthemums · 1 month
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parents of disabled kids will be like “we know our kid is disabled but we just won’t tell them about it. we don’t want them to think they’re less valuable than other kids. we don’t want them to feel limited by their disability, we want them to know they’re capable of anything.”
meanwhile those kids are growing up thinking “why is everything so much harder for me than it is for everyone else? there’s no reason i shouldn’t be able to just do this. i guess i’m just a failed, broken person.”
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cluescorner · 4 days
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I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc
#damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#batman#batfamily#for all of the issues that come with having Steph as your fave having too much wild shit happening at once is never one of them#btw I quite like The Boy Wonder Issue 1. wow shocker an artist and writer who I have liked everything they've ever done#has once again written something that I am enjoying with art that makes me want to be part of its world.#it's almost like Juni Ba is really freaking talented or something#like I have some problems with it but it seems like many of those are part of the point. Damian is learning that his siblings are more#three-dimensional than he realized and that is part of this 'coming of age' story merged with fairytale#so I can't be mad at the oversimplistic defining of Dick and Jason and Tim until the conclusion of the series. that might be the point.#I hope that the series will address Steph as a Robin but if not then frankly it's not an issue unique to this series.#I'll be annoyed and disappointed but ultimately roll with it like I am with Babsgirl being here. There's too much good stuff here to get#hung up on shit that seems to be almost an editorial mandate at this point. at least that's where I'm at.#I am also very sorry that Chip Zdarsky is massacring your boy. he has 'X (Tim for him) is the best Robin so everyone else must suck' diseas#where a writer really likes one specific Robin and in trying to uplift them demeans all of the other Robins. instead of like...just writing#for that one character only or alternatively not demeaning the other characters in order to make his blorbo look good#it's wild because I actually think his writing for Tim is pretty solid. but he's not writing a Tim series. he's writing a Batman series.#and if you are going to write a Batman series and include other Batfamily members you need to actually write them well.#instead of assigning them like 2 personality traits while Tim gets to be a whole character#I accept that behavior in fanfic where I have lesser standards because it's fucking free. not a comic run that wants me to pay#tens of dollars in order to understand what the fuck is going on. he's been going for a while now it's gotta be a lot of money.#I can buy Steelworks with that money. I can see John Henry and Natasha Irons in a trade. Fuck you Chip.#it's why it takes such a special person to write a good ensemble story/a good Batfamily story. you have to be good at writing a LOT#of different characters. which I don't think most people are. I sure as hell am not. I can write maybe 3 at a time confidently well.#and you also have to give all of them at least SOME love or else people will be upset that you aren't focusing on their fave#and also the writing as a whole will suffer. Chip Zdarsky is a pretty good Tim writer. I'd maybe read a Tim solo written by him.#I would not read a story focusing on multiple characters that I like written by Chip Zdarsky. because every character who isn't Tim#is at least a bit weak/inconsistent/out of character INCLUDING FUCKING BATMAN. THE NO. 1 GUY MOST ARE HERE FOR
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i love a/b/o steddie where they get started like so young that if it was someone i knew irl i'd have a panic attack. like,, mated right out of high school, baby pops out a year later, they've got like five kids by the time they're 25
thinking about an au where they were already together pre- start of s4 and steve goes through the whole thing like three months pregnant. like he's stressed about the baby and eddie and eddie's SUPER stressed about the baby and steve, like eddie's trying to get steve to sit this one out for the baby and steve has to yell at him to stop bc yeah, he's worried about losing their first child, but if he sat at home while everyone else dealt with the upside down and someone didn't come back??? he'd never be able to live with himself
and when the bats get eddie and steve tries to use the mating bond to share some of eddie's pain, help him hold on until they get to the hospital, eddie weakly tries to tell him not to, to think of the baby. and steve's just. not having it. and once eddie wakes up from his medically induced coma he's like :(( why'd you do that and steve is just. so mad. he says yeah, if i had lost the baby (he doesn't, she's fine) that would have been the most terrible pain i'd ever felt. but it would have been worse if i lost you. and eddie's like. oh. bc maybe part of him has always been thinking that steve's only stuck with him bc he's the father of their kid. but no, steve loves him.
so eddie's crying, and steve's crying, and then steve shows eddie the ultrasound they did during eddie's coma to check the baby hadn't been hurt by the week of stress and danger and pain-sharing, and it's the first time they've been able to actually see the shape of a baby in all the weird white noise of an ultrasound, and now they're both crying even harder
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lemonduckisnowawake · 17 days
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I've been using tumblr wrong
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tsaricides · 2 months
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hope you’re doing well yutro!! 💛 just saw the iwtv season two trailer dropped! any thoughts? 🎤
i've been postponing watching it because i was too nervous and thought i would be thoroughly disappointed... especially that the 1st season introduced some changes into the text that i thought were completely unnecessary and detrimental to it.
but i have finally watched it now and... i'm a bit obsessed? the way lestat haunts them... and armand! armand repeating "lestat"... i truly hope it is not just some display of jealousy and that there will be at least hints at armand's own psychosexual obsession with him. if not, i will be a let-down that will ruin the whole adaptation for me once again (the monogamous worldview that the show writers impose on vampires is so tiring.) especially that i'm already highly skeptical of louis & armand still being in a relationship. but i have already complained about the strange standards and butchering the beauty and horror of the immortal love at length when the first season came out so i will not repeat myself.
there is so much going on that i cannot dissect because it's a complete turn away from the original... in that one scene, is lestat laughing at armand?? why are they talking about the interview itself as if so much is at stake... what happens to claudia in this iteration of the story? etc. etc. it makes me both nervous and a bit curious where they will go with it all.
the thing i'm really thrilled to see is the theatre though! this was my favourite part in the books... and we didn't get much glimpses at it in the trailer, but i know some of it was recorded in prague, and i'm also excited to see it.
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wiitzend · 1 month
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this is gonna sound mean but people who make everything about their diagnosis/sexuality/mental illness/race etc., and shoehorn this one fact about themselves into every single conversation no matter how unrelated are insufferable. it's especially annoying when they do this in fandom spaces. they think that 'x character' or 'x show' HAS to be directly related to this one label about themselves despite their never being any actual canon evidence to support this (because they can't just accept the fact that not every character or piece of media has to be a carbon copy of themselves in order to be good or relatable), and then get angry when people don't agree. if you don't agree w/ them suddenly you have random weirdos crawling out of the woodwork calling you a bigot and unfortunately people like this are everywhere. it's so insane to me.
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icewindandboringhorror · 11 months
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A very interesting cloud formation!
#I don't think I had ever really seen clouds like this before? it looks like a cool painting or something :0#Pulling just a few images from my cloud and sky photos folder which has like 650 pictures in it becvause I'm obsessed with the sky lol#I will usually spare everyone the cloudposting but... in some exceptions when it's really cool I must Share#(upcoming covid mention in tags for those avoiding the topic)#I WANT TO BE ON AN AIRPLANE SO SO BAD I am going to start casting evil spells to explode all these 'back to normal' bastards who are out#spreading virus and shit HHHHHH... Covid is NOT over actually contrary to popular beielf especially for people with health conditions#that make them more vulnerable or would have worse consequences if they were to catch it etc. etc. wearing a mask in public is#in MOSt cases not THAt much of a horrific terrible evil inconvenience and it helps keep everyone around you safer including these#vulnerable populations!!!! Even if I didn't have any problems myself I would STILL be masking because it's a small gesture that can make a#big difference in people around me being comfortable. It's not like people with health issues just never have to go out or go to the stor#or whatever. There are still people out there who could be helped by extra precautions that are being overlooked. grrrrr...#Like at this point since I'm vaccinated and everything I would MAYBE consider flying on an airplane IF everyone else around me#was masking and being just as careful as me. But at this point it's just the wild west and I would literally be the only one who gives#a shit or who gets tested freqeuntly before after and during traveling and wears the proper type of mask well fitting and not half off my f#ce and blah blah blah. And precautions work best when EVEYRONE is participating. There's only so much you can protext yourself if everyone#around you is doing nothing. So.. alas.. I still do not feel safe traveling. And probably won't for years until more progress is made in#terms of like understanding and treating certain long covid issues and etc. Since I think it's inevitable that if I start going out again#I would get covid. Me and my household bubble are some of the only people I know who haven't had it yet (or at least not knowingly so - if#so it was one of the asymptomatic cases etc.). So if I was GOING to get it anyway I'd at least like the assurance that whatever long term#issues I inevtabley suffer because of it will be more easily treatable at that point instead of entirely disabling even further than I'm#already disabled. etc. AAANYWAY!! all that to say. I JSUT REALLY WANT TO be on an airplane!!! I dont even like traveling and going places I#hate vacations and would rather be at home working on my projects I'm fixated on lol HOWEVER I love the view from airplane windows#like the very few times in my life Ive actually been on a plane and the window is so COLD when you lay your forehead on it and sometimes yo#even see little ice crystals and it's like you're just in a landscape of clouds with a sea of clouds above and below and aaaAAAAAA#Literally I want to get on a plane just to go up in the air and then land and fly back. I don't even want to go on a real trip. I just NEED#to see the sky I need to be IN the sky I need to have that VIEW and the cold and everything!!!! gRGGHGgg... And I will do that the entire#time. I think my longest plane ride was 7 hours and I do not watch movies. I dont text or play games. I literally do nothing to entertain#myself except stare straight out the window for 7 hours (with a few eating and bathroom breaks). not even joking lmao. It's like a trance#I LOVE the sky and clouds so much and the view you get from an airplane is like incomparable!! also I love airports with the big windows an#people watching. but mostly I just long for the sky view again. GRRR.. sobbing and yearning >:T
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autisticlenaluthor · 2 months
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being back in school after being in the hospital for over a week is so disorienting. like this English paper? yeah, not a real problem. this exam? it's made up. meaningless.
it is so hard to care about turning stuff in and getting good grades now after going through non stop hell and then having to return to 'normal' as if nothing happened at all
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