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andguesswhat · 3 years

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The Fool on the Hill - Chapter 4

The secret behind the Two Gentlemen of Verona and the beginning of Lokius...

Their story on the Archive

Between the shelves

Tom’s fingers slid over the spines of the books along the shelves.

MayaAngelou...

William Blake...

Robert Frost...

Ah there we are Shakespeare's poems...

He took an edition of Shakespeare’s poems before 1640 out of the shelf and sat cross legged on the floor.

Camera and lights had to be relocated for the shoot in the library and Tom thought he might spend the break doing something useful.

“Sir?” he heard Owen’s voice imitating a stern security guard, “I’m afraid reading on the floor is prohibited. I have to ask you to get up immediately.”

Tom looked up to a smiling Owen and smiled back. “Why don’t you come down?”

And he did. Owen sat down, leaning at the book shelf opposite, his legs drawn up, smiling at Tom.

“So Shakespeare again?” his head pointed to the book Tom held in his hand.

Tom laughed softly. “Yes, the conversation yesterday got me thinking again.”

Owen nodded and smiled in amusement. “Maybe I get myself a copy of Hamlet to read before bed. What do you think?”

“Good choice, good choice,” Tom reassured him.

And he couldn’t help smiling either. They had been doing this a lot lately. Talking and constantly smiling at each other.

Owen leaned forward to search for the right book, his fingers now also sliding over the spines.

“Ah look at that!” He pulled out a copy of Two gentlemen of Verona and waved it in his hand.

“I read this in college. I always thought: this is about two bisexual guys, right? And the teacher was like,” he mimicked an older Brit, “oh no, this is Shakespearian English, it’s a bit different than you are used to, I guess. He was from England and wanted to show me that I as a stupid kid from Texas could not understand Shakespeare...”

“And oh how wrong they were about you...” Tom remarked and hoped, it didn’t sound like he was blushing.

He imagined Owen in high school and how he got underestimated just because of the way he was. Tom certainly would have loved being Owen’s friend back then.

Owen opened the book. “Aaah, I remember it now. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus:

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.” He looked at Tom. “That already sounded somewhat gay to me. All these sweet words they have for each other…”

Tom’s heart began to pound. He had been looking for the right moment to tell Owen.

He had talked with Owen about Loki before they began shooting and of course he had mentioned that Loki was bisexual. Owen had been surprised but not in a bad way. He had said something like “Okay, good for him.”

So Tom could assume that Owen wasn’t homophobic. But still, what would he say when he knew Tom was bisexual himself? And Tom even wondered about Owen himself?

Tom had the feeling that Owen was flirting with him. But Tom had flirted with his straight friends, too, so that could mean absolutely nothing. And he would hate it for the flirting to stop just because Owen was suddenly insecure about knowing Tom was bi.

So Tom just said, “Look, this is interesting as well,” and showed Owen the book with the poems. “These are the poems by Shakespeare. And this is an edition with the original text, where a lot of poems are directed to… men. And later they were published again by a publicist called John Benson. But he changed most of the pronouns from he and him to she and her.”

“Wow…that’s… outrageous! I didn’t even know that... You really know a lot of that stuff. Not just Hamlet.” Owen smiled at him. “Maybe we should start a new lecture, the Shakespeare lecture.”

Tom laughed in embarrassment. He knew he was a nerd and got on people’s nerves with this whole stuff.

“You know, I always could kinda relate to Shakespeare somehow.” Owen said, looking at him, intently. “I always felt we shared some similar… feelings. It felt somehow familiar.”

Tom felt a little dizzy hearing this.

He still could be misinterpreting this.

But he had heard Owen say that and he thought he just had to act on it.

So he looked a bit left and right to see if there was anyone near them and said, “I know what you mean, I always felt the same. Because he wrote for both, you know. For women and for men.”

He cried out inside. Why was this still so hard to just say it? He was 39 for Christ’s sake.

But he probably got it right after all, because Owen nodded slowly, his face all soft, his smile reassuring, knowing.

“It was nice, by the way, there at the table. I loved that," Owen said after a little pause. "That Loki would sleep in front of Mobius.”

Tom became a little embarrassed. “I just felt that it would fit. Because he trusts Mobius. That’s new for him. And there’s a scene later on with Sylvie where he says that he can’t sleep around people he can’t trust. So… I wanted this to match. I’m glad Kate went along with it.”

The look that Owen gave him was kind of mischievous…

“I think we should talk about the relationship between Loki and Mobius a bit more… dig a bit deeper. Because I think there is a lot to show that’s not necessarily in the script. You know I was lying in my bed yesterday, imagining Mobius lying in his bed, thinking about Loki. Yes, he’s obsessed with him but I think there’s so much more. He really cares for him, you know.”

And the way Owen said “he cares for him”, God, Tom’s heart immediately began racing again. And he thought he would burst. He felt so much joy and so much love and so much excitement that he was probably grinning like a clown.

Yes, they already talked about the relationship between Loki and Mobius a lot, how much these character could give to each other… but they hadn’t taken it to another level… yet. Honestly, when he first read the script, he didn’t see it either. But with Owen now here on set… it was getting better every day.

“I’d love that,” he said softly.

And Owen just smiled at him. And then something happened that Tom hadn’t expected. Owen leaned his head back on the shelf and began to talk quietly.

“You know, there was this boy. Charly. We were best friends, from a young age, you know sandbox friends. And we were doing everything together. And one day when we were like 9 or 10 or something he asked me ‘Should we kiss?´ like he would ask me `Wanna go for a ride?´, as if this was just something you just do with a best friend. So we kissed.” Owen smiled in memory of this. “And it was nice… It felt good… So now and then we would make out… And… a few years later he would ask me `Should be jerk off?´ and I again was like ´Why not´… so we jerked off together” He shook his head as if he himself couldn’t believe that really had happened. “So until we were 18 we pretty much did everything one could do in this… area. We had girlfriends from time to time. We were crazy about them. But with Charly… it felt always different, more like coming home, something you could always go back to. It was comforting. And all the time it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.” He sighed and looked at the floor, lost in thoughts. “If there hadn’t been the people to tell you otherwise…”

Tom didn’t know how to breathe, didn’t know what to say. He was so overwhelmed about Owen’s endearing story, and the sadness behind it. And that he had shared it with him….

“TOOOM? OWEN??” Lea, the production assistant, was searching for them and calling their names until she finally found them between the shelves. “How should I find you here?” she reprimanded them. “It’s all set up!”

“Sorry…” Tom and Owen answered simultaneously and helped each other get up.

Owen straightened himself and turned to Tom.

“Meet me at section F for Fitzgerald at the next break?”

Tom laughed softly. “Sure!”

And while he said this, his heart fluttered in his chest excited about what would happen in section F.

#hiddlewow #widdlewow #rpf #loki fanfiction #widdlewow fanfiction #the fool on the hill #chapter 4 #loki series #tom hiddleston/owen wilson #tom hiddleston #owen wilson

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pronouncingitwang · 3 years

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jon, melanie, and georgie friendship | 1.5K words | basically just. how jon finds out melanie’s bi | for the @jonsimsbipride prompt “solidarity”

“Martin? Are you still there?” Georgie calls from the couch at a volume that makes Jon wince.

Martin’s fallen asleep on the loveseat, his face smushed into the arm of the chair as he snores. For the last few minutes, Jon has been looking at the rise and fall of his chest with something resembling awe. Even a year after the world began again, Jon finds it difficult to believe that they’re safe, that he can just watch Martin without needing to watch over him.

“Pretty sure those are his snores I’m hearing right now,” says Melanie, and Georgie whispers a quick apology.

Recovery has been hard, but being roommates with the Qing-Barkers helps, at least sometimes. Georgie described their shared living situation as “living in group therapy” on more than one occasion, which is true on hard days. Melanie described it as “being back in uni again, but mostly in a good way?” which is true on better days. Martin maintains that it’s worth it for The Admiral and Melanie’s service dog, Mothman, alone, which is true on every day.

Today is a good day. There’s been a lot of laughter, from when Georgie and Melanie had met him and Martin at the airport to telling them honeymoon stories over dinner to now, when they’re all lying around doing nothing, and jet lag has rendered Jon too tired to drag himself to bed.

“Come and cuddle with us instead, Jon,” Melanie stage-whispers from beside Georgie. After checking that Martin is comfortable one more time, Jon agrees.

Melanie is snuggled under a blanket with a pink, purple, and blue yarn mix. Martin had gifted the blanket to Georgie for her birthday, even though Jon, I swear everyone gives their friends pride stuff when they don’t know what else to get them; are you sure it’s not obvious that I didn’t have a better idea? It's warm and soft, and by now, practically a household staple.

Jon sits down on the couch and, after checking that she’s okay with it, rests his cheek against Melanie’s shoulder. At first contact, Melanie lets out a small noise of surprise. “You shaved,” she says. “Georgie, you’re supposed to tell me about major life changes like this! How stupid does he look?”

Georgie hums. “Not too bad. I’d say… no more stupid than usual?”

“Damn,” Melanie says. “Why the smooth face, Jon?”

Georgie opens her mouth, but stops herself to let Jon explain.

“Oh,” he shrugs, “I just tend to shave whenever I have to deal with airport security. Less likely to be stopped for suspected terrorism and all.”

“Ah.” Melanie clicks her tongue. “Makes sense. Sucks, though.” She shifts, resting her head on top of Jon’s. “I guess it’s a good thing that Big Heathrow”—Georgie giggles from the other side of the couch—“doesn’t know how the apocalypse came about, then.”

Jon laughs. The part of his mind that wonders if going along with this particular joke about the apocalypse is a sign of developing emotional distance or just a coping mechanism perks its ears up, but he ignores it. “No, I’d imagine the Daily Mail would have a field day with that one.”

“I wonder how they’d spin your evil boss’s involvement,” Georgie, who steadfastly refuses to use Elias’s name, muses. “Innocent bystander? Secret lover?”

Melanie makes a retching sound, which Jon makes back at her. Melanie repeats it at a slightly higher pitch. This continues for at least a minute, before they lapse back into laughter. It really is like uni again.

“Hey, Jon,” Georgie ventures after a spot of silence, mischief coloring her voice, “Kiss, marry, kill: Big Heathrow, Daily Mail, evil boss.”

“Georgina.” It’s difficult to have a staring contest with Georgie’s body pillow in the way, but Jon manages to aim his glare right at the space between Georgie’s eyes. Georgie doesn’t back down, just smiles sweetly and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Fine,” he sighs, resting his head back down onto Melanie’s shoulder. “Fine. Kill Elias again. Marry… marry Heathrow? I think it would have a tolerable personality. Which leaves…” he sighs again, “kissing the Daily Mail. Christ.”

“Bad choice,” Melanie says. “They’re basically the definition of kiss and tell. Imagine the scandal!”

“Alright, fine.” Jon says, not awake enough to debate but curious enough to challenge. “Same options. What would you pick?”

“Easy,” Melanie says. “First, obviously, I’m stabbing Elias to death. Second, I’m pretty sure Heathrow sells toothpaste, so it would be the least unpleasant to kiss. Third, and most importantly, I’m going to use my marriage to the Daily Mail to edit the articles it publishes and slowly radicalize the old white women of the UK.”

Georgie gives a few snaps of approval, and even Jon has to admit she has some points.

“There aren’t many situations where I’d divorce you willingly, Melanie,” Georgie says, “but if it was for this, I would understand.”

Melanie laughs. “I appreciate your support, babe. Your turn.”

Georgie deliberates for a while, then winces. “Sorry, Melanie. I’m going to have to go with Jon on this one.”

“Ha!” Jon says.

“I just don’t think I could deal with being married to the Daily Mail.”

“Cowards, both of you!” Melanie exclaims loudly, but is quickly shushed by both Jon and Georgie with a “Martin!” She continues in a quieter voice, “And before you say anything, Georgie, I know that’s not actually possible for you, but I’m sticking by my words.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe this. The heartbreak. The betrayal. From my own wife, and right after she said she would willingly divorce me…”

“Stop taking my words out of context!”

“Can’t, my new spouse Mx. Mail is a bad influence”(—“Which is exactly why it's better to marry Heathrow instead,” Georgie interjects—)“but at least it’d side with me against Jon.”

Jon grins. “It’s the biromanticism, Melanie. It gives me and Georgie the same taste.”

At this, Melanie sputters. “Nuh-uh. No way. Absolutely no way. Your bad choices are the results of your own bad opinions. Don’t bring me into it.”

Melanie continues to speak, but Jon is no longer listening. He feels, suddenly, like he’s missing something important. “What?” he asks, causing Melanie to pause. “How have I brought you into it?”

“Well… you said being bi makes you choose the worse option,” Melanie says, which just confuses Jon more. Then, “Wait, Jon, you do know I’m bisexual, right?”

Ah. That would do it.

“Not… not quite.”

“Oh my god,” Georgie says. “Seriously?”

“You—I’ve only ever heard you call yourself gay!” Jon cries, giving Melanie and Georgie the chance to shush him with “Martin!”

Melanie shakes her head mournfully. “I’ve been your friend—okay, not quite that, but I’ve known you—for years!”

“I was trying to save the world during most of those years!”

“You also had spooky all-knowing powers,” Georgie adds.

Jon feels his leg begin to bounce. “Well, yes, but I was actively trying not to use them on people. Checking someone’s sexuality would be a gross violation of—”

“It’s okay, Jon,” Melanie says soothingly, “I know you wouldn’t do that.” There is quiet for a few seconds as Jon takes a few deep breaths. Then, Melanie says in a wryer tone, “Jon. One of my sets of prosthetic eyes is literally the bi pride flag. I know I don’t wear it that often, but…”

“I’ve only seen it once, in bad lighting, and… I don't know, I thought maybe you were just being supportive!”

“Oh my god,” Georgie says again, her voice muffled by the pillow she’s buried her face in. Jon feels like burying his face into a pillow himself.

“This is awful,” Jon groans.

“Stop being biphobic, Jon,” Melanie says.

“Stop being bi-aced, Jon,” Georgie says, which is unfortunately quite good.

“Fine,” Jon says. “This isn’t awful. It is, instead, wonderful.” He means the last sentence to come out begrudging, but it sounds more sincere than anything else. Jon blames his emotions. Now that the initial surprise has worn off, warmth is beginning to replace it. It’s not that he’s particularly starved for bi friends, but it’s nice, having one more thing that ties him and Melanie together.

“Thank you.” Melanie gives Jon a haughty sniff, but she smiles as she does it.

Jon’s neck is beginning to strain, but Melanie is still resting her head on top of his, and he doesn’t want to bother her. He closes his eyes and tries to focus his attention elsewhere. He can take a few minutes more.

“I just realized something,” Melanie says. “Jon, I’m literally under a bi pride blanket right now.” Georgie starts to giggle again.

“I’m asleep,” says Jon.

“Yeah, under a bi pride blanket that I, too, am currently under. Because I’m bi.”

“I’m double asleep,” says Jon.

“And I’m bi,” says Melanie.

“I know it’s useless to ask, but is there any chance we can forget about this and pretend I’ve known all along?”

“No,” Melanie and Georgie say in unison.

“Great,” Jon replies, and hides his smile in his bisexual friend’s shoulder.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #melanie king #georgie barker #melanie qing #fic

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whereisstevethestove · 3 years

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Ventricle.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Katrina Flores (OC), Nico Flores

Relationships: Familial Logan &Virgil, hinted at Logan x Nico

Additional Tags: abortion mention, bisexual disaster logan, teen parenting, hate sex mention, logan having an emotional breakdown in a walmart, nico being a smooth motherfucker.

Word Count: 1805

Summary: Logan made a dumb decision when he was eighteen, which led him to being saddled with a difficult choice when he was just nineteen. Now he's living everyday with the consequences.(in the accidental adoption universe, but can be read as a stand alone. no prior knowledge needed)

Notes: *me, looking at the lack of nico x logan*: Fine, I’ll do it myself. Also, I have an actual angst logan x nico fic coming out later today maybe, probably.

AO3

@psychedelicships here’s some logan and nico... at the end, but I promise it’s worth it.

He was nineteen, young and dumb when it happened-

Logan stared down at the sleeping boy in his arms, a newborn that was only five hours old, with a shock of black hair that was reminiscent of Logan’s baby photos. He was the only one awake, his ex also asleep from the sheer toll of birth on her body.

She had wanted to keep him, and then, now that Logan was holding the infant, she had admitted that she was going just… throw him into the foster system and hope that someone wanted him. Logan hadn’t wanted to keep the child, he’d begged her to have an abortion, but he’d promised in the end to still pay child support if that’s what she wanted.

But now…

Now he was holding his son. She didn’t want him, he looked too much like his dad, and Logan could feel his own heart tearing apart as he thought of giving him up.

His ex stirred and Logan looked up as she opened her eyes, a look of displeasure on her face.

“You’re looking at it all weird.”

Logan smiled softly down at the infant. “I know. He’s beautiful.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not a teen mom.”

“You told me that you don’t want him.”

“And I don’t.” She looked up at the ceiling of the hospital room and sighed. “Where did we go wrong Lo?” Lo.

Ah yes, the nickname that she’d called him for so long, when they were first dating junior year in highschool. Logan used to look back on his past with fond memories, but now everything was tainted the smallest bit darker with the realization that he had, in fact, cut his younger phase short.

“It was the drunk hate sex, I’m sure.” He responded and she laughed.

“I can’t take him. I want a life Logan.”

Logan nodded. “I’m sorry. But if I may?”

“May what?”

The infant yawned in his sleep and Logan’s heart broke again. “I’d like to take him. You won’t have to pay child support, we can go our separate ways and never talk again if you want, but goddamnit, I want to raise him.”

She shot him a rueful look. “Take him. After I’m discharged, I never want to see you again though.”

“Of course.” Logan held back his happiness, but his face betrayed him and even she knew as she watched him hold the infant just a bit closer.

Maybe a part of her wondered how someone like Logan could have ever loved that deeply.

Maybe a part of her didn’t care.

…

Logan had a harder time the next morning convincing the nurse who was filling out the paperwork to put him down as the provider. After all, the kid was supposed to go straight to adoption, and now the father wanted him.

Not to mention the whole naming thing. She was less than impressed when Logan told her that he wanted the infant to be named Virgil.

Logan won both battles and after a talk with Virgil’s doctor, he was heading out to his car with the infant safe in a carrier, which he buckled in before getting in the driver's seat and leaving.

…

He had no idea what he was doing. Virgil was sitting in the shopping cart child spot, chattering happily in the gibberish that only babies spoke as Logan had an emotional breakdown in front of the baby food.

It’d been six months since Virgil had been born, and according to online and the various books he’d read, advice from his mother and also from his great aunt, the kid should be fine starting solids, but he didn’t know which.

Virgil babbled something and a tiny hand patted Logan’s hair. He looked up and Virgil giggled before reaching for his glasses. Logan leaned his head back a bit.

“Virgil, we’ve discussed that you cannot gnaw on my glasses. You have a teething toy or a pacifier if you’d like.”

Virgil clapped.

There was a gasp behind him and Logan looked back to see a woman, who was grinning at the pair.

“Is that your son?” She walked up to him and cooed at Virgil. “How old is he?” “Six months.” Logan said tiredly as Virgil clapped again and the woman smiled.

“He’s clapping so early. Most don’t for a good while.”

Logan pumped a tired fist in the air. “Wonderful.”

“I’m Katrina, I’ve got some little ones at home, it can be tiring. How old are you? You look a little young to be this sweetie’s daddy. What’s your name?”

Logan held out his hand for her to shake. “Logan Alt, nineteen.”

“Oh! Is your lucky bride at home?”

Logan bit his lip and looked down at the floor of the supermarket. “Ah, no.”

Katrina seemed to freeze for a moment, but it was fleeting enough that Logan ignored it as she looked up at him.

“Six months you say? He should be in prime time to start solids.” When Logan nodded, she seemed to straighten up. “Would you like some help with a list of foods that you can start him on? I also have a wonderful book in my car I can grab you.”

Logan stared at her.

Then he burst into tears and Katrina pulled him into a hug, rubbing a hand soothingly across his back.

“Hey darlin, I know how hard it can be, having a young one so early.”

Logan nodded into her shoulder and she pulled him back to arms length, a soft smile on her face. “You’re gonna be the best dad this kiddo ever has. Let me help you get him some starter foods and then I’ll give ya my number and you can call me on my phone whenever. We sure are damn lucky for these samsung flip phones, aren’t we?”

“Thank you…” Logan stuttered out as he wiped at his eyes. Katrina nodded and gave him another hug before turning to Virgil and patting his head.

“Hey buddy. I’m here to help your daddy, okay?”

Virgil babbled something and mirrored her smile. Katrina gave him another gentle pat on the head. “Thank you for letting me know that very important thing.”

Logan looked down at Virgil. “What’d he say?” Katrina’s response was simple. “That he loves you very much. Onward to the bananas!” …

Katrina and her family were there when Virgil first waddled up to Logan, and said his first word.

“Space!”

Logan blinked as Virgil made grabby hands, but he complied and lifted his son up into his arms.

Katrina leaned over. “Looks like you have a little science nerd.”

Virgil reached out and excitedly patted Katrina’s shoulder. “Space!” He crowed out and Logan couldn’t help but grin as his now one year old excitedly chirped the word again, squirming in Logan’s arms.

“Looks like you might be right. Would you like down?” Logan asked and Virgil nodded vigorously.

Logan set him down. Virgil laughed and clapped again before looking up at his dad with glee.

“Space!”

“That’s right.” Logan nodded solemnly. “Space.”

Virgil waddled off to where Katrina’s other kids were playing, and the group easily parted to include him.

“Kat.. thank you for inviting us to your Christmas celebration, you didn’t need to.” Logan looked away from Virgil and she shrugged.

“Lo, with your mom’s passing in November, you told me that you didn’t have anywhere to go, of course I’d offer you my home.” Katrina picked at a loose thread on her sweater. “Virgil deserves a good first Christmas, and you need social interaction.”

Logan laughed softly. “I guess you’re right.”

“I always am.” Katrina crossed her arms. “I need to go check on my husband, but I’ll see you around. Try talking to my younger cousin.”

Logan looked around the room. “Where are they?”

Katrina pointed to a man Logan’s age, who was sitting on the couch, surrounded by the stuffed animals that the other kids were bringing to him. “Nico Flores. He’s single.”

She winked and Logan rolled his eyes at her fondly before heading over to the couch. Nico looked up from the kid who was speaking to him, a grin splitting his face. “Hey! I could use some company!”

The kid that he’d been talking to rapidly fired something at him in Spanish and Nico laughed before responding in kind as Logan carefully moved the stuffed animals and sat next to him.

Once the kid had gone back to the others, Nico held a hand out for Logan to shake.

“Nico Flores.”

“Logan Alt.”

“That your son?” Nico pointed to Virgil, who was sitting on the ground as another one year old passed him blocks, which he promptly threw down with a laugh.

“Yeah, how’d you guess?”

“He’s the whitest child here.” Nico ran a hand through his hair and grinned at Logan. “You’re extraordinarily pale.”

“It’s the german from my father’s side.”

“Ah.” Nico laughed as a girl brought him another stuffed animal, taking one from the pile on the ground at his feet as she switched them out.

“Thank you Tio!”

“It’s just Nico, you know that Gemma!”

Gemma gave a screeching laugh as she ran off.

“So, how’d you meet my cousin?”

“I had a bit of a rough time finding Virgil, that’s my son, some food as he was about to start solids and I’ve never had a child, so I was unsure of what to buy him and she helped.” Logan smiled as Virgil looked up to find him, getting off the ground to waddle over and hold his hands up. He picked up Virgil, who pulled his glasses off his face and held them out to Nico.

“Space!”

Nico took the glasses and nodded seriously. “Space.”

Virgil, pleased, wiggled out of Logan’s grip again, but not before stealing a stuffed animal from the pile.

Nico handed him his glasses. “He’s sweet.”

“Indeed.” Logan smiled fondly before shaking himself out of it. “So, what brings you here?”

“Kat invited me because, and I quote: ‘There’s gonna be a hot boy here, I swear it.’” Nico grinned at him. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Logan felt the blush start to creep up his face and he swallowed nervously. “Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s a pity I don’t know his number.” Nico leaned back on the couch and shrugged. “It’s also a pity that there’s not really any mistletoe nearby, the cat’s allergic.”

Logan felt like he was gonna die.

“Guess I’ll never know.”

“Ifyoureallywantmynumberyoucouldhaveit.” Logan blurted out in a rush.

Nico gave him a blinding grin. “Sounds like a date.”

Yeah, Logan had made some dumb decisions in his teenage years. But if it had led him to a warm Christmas party, with a cute boy his age next to him and an adorable son playing with his friend’s kids…

Was it really dumb?

#logan x nico #nico flores #logan sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #accidental adoption au #sanders sides #dad!logan #baby!virgil #infant virgil #virgil sanders

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

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The Iowa Caucus Happened

A job offer slides into Rafael’s DMs as he waits to find out if it’ll be a new start or prison on February 8.

Accidental Feminist Icon

Delete the Twitter app, Mr. Barba

“Mister Barba?”

Rafael didn’t like hearing his name from the young woman behind him, especially not given what he’d done. He’d texted Carmen on the first day of the trial, and she’d agreed to look into the offers from attorneys he knew, and some he didn’t, while he sat beside Dworkin and emotionally prepared himself to testify. The ones he’d looked at the night before came from people he didn’t like or were last resorts. He’d moved from his visceral response to finding law to back his actions. Applying logic could let him detangle himself from his conflicted emotions. Catholic guilt wrestled his humanity. That said, he also found himself desperate to introduce Ollie to music as Carmen worked from his apartment that first afternoon, not caring for once as the toddler drooled or sneezed or spilled all over him.

“Yes?” he asked, taking his coffee from the cart. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“We haven’t. I follow you on Twitter.”

“Ah,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss-”

“Rachel Sullivan. I have, like, a reading Twitter.”

“I’ve seen that! Read with Rachel? Your icon is a copy of Howl?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, chuckling. “I just- listen, I know it’s bad what’s going on and a lot of people are really hurt and going after you. Do I get it? No. But, I think you didn’t get a good choice, and you did what’s right for you. When it seems impossible, it’s not my place to judge something I can’t fathom. And a lot of people feel the same. A bunch of us have a group chat and we hope everything goes well and you get to start again.”

It was a stark contrast to his interaction with mami or emails from church ladies. There was an acknowledgement of disagreement, but he needed more people to respect that they weren’t there like she did. He also remembered watching his father die, and while he didn’t like the man, he regretted not ending that pain. It only drew out hurt for everyone.

“Thank you, Rachel. That really means the world to me.”

“Good luck today,” she said, giving him a wave when she took her coffee and left. By the end of the day, Rafael hated Peter Stone for being a damn good prosecutor, and he wondered if there were any cases he’d tried, especially the ones before SVU that he was wrong on. He made his way into a new bar, definitely not his usual during all of this, and he sat and drafted his resignation. It took longer than he cared to admit, and he restarted and reread it time and time again. By the time he was drunk, he’d written something he could proofread the next morning and ignored calls from Olivia, Carmen, and mami.

He decided it was time to do what he had been dreading, logging into Twitter. Since Carmen had cleaned it up, more people had found him, and he was able to easily ignore anything hateful by skimming for murder or murderer in the body of the tweet. He skipped those, and Rafael was surprised to see some apathy, sympathy, or respect for his reasoning. Lazily, he scrolled his direct messages. A select few of the people who knew him contacted him with revulsion, but his filtered messages were filled with vitriol. He found Rachel’s account again, following her back and deciding he could break his unspoken rule of only following people he knew or the occasional blog/podcast/museum/celebrity. If anyone contacted him with kindness, he was now more open to the reciprocity of Twitter; no one would be asking him to prosecute their case soon.

He saw a message from Tripp Greene. In Harvard, they’d had an unspoken alliance as the two scholarship kids in their cohort, a silent allegiance that continued into law school. There were very few people Rafael respected personally from Harvard, but Tripp had remained kind, even if he worked in something as ruthless as politics. They’d been reunited by Rafael’s uptick in Twitter popularity. He was more proud than he should be by the potential presidential candidates that had followed him. Rafael should have known Tripp would reach out; he was ever the silent cheerleader and had watched a sibling die on life support when he was at Harvard. They’d discussed the morality of pulling plugs and the selfish desire to keep people alive, though most of it had been Tripp talking and Rafael listening.

While moving to Iowa seemed extreme, he was acutely aware that he would end up haunting the DA’s office and Manhattan SVU like some ghost of ADAs past instead of moving forward. His mother had a boyfriend and looming retirement that seemed likely to take the pair to Miami, where she could play grandma to his grandchildren. There was nothing left for him here but Carmen, and while a great friend, she was not enough to erase the last twenty-one years of his life. When Carmen called for the fifth time that night, he ignored it, but it was quickly followed by Answer the phone or I tell Olivia I haven’t heard from you. With a groan, he answered when Carmen called again sixty seconds later.

“I’m fine. I don’t want to delve back into a play by play of my day.”

“That’s why you’re drunk at seven o’clock,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm as she pretended that solved everything.

“It’s only been two hours?”

“You’re not at Forlini’s.”

“I’m not hanging out with Stone.”

“Send me your location. I just picked Ollie up from mom’s.”

“Take your son home, Carmen. I’ll be fine.”

“But we could talk about how much I also hate Stone. I’ll even stop and let you grab take out from that Cuban place you like.”

“Deal,” he acquiesced, motioning he wanted to close his tab. “Call me when you’re close.”

“Deal. ETA is about fifteen minutes.”

He polished off his scotch, signing the check and tipping well before taking his briefcase and leaning against the wall as he waited for Carmen’s SUV. She waved at him out the window, and he hurried into her passenger seat. Though he always knew that she was a great secretary and assistant, Carmen was proving to be the friend he needed right now. Olivia, in the few phone calls they had, was unwilling to discuss anything but the case. She was in cop mode, and she talked to him like she could swoop in and fix what he had done. While she thought he didn’t know, she’d talked to McCoy, talked to Stone, talked to anyone who would listen. But what she didn’t understand is that he’d accepted going to prison was a possibility, but it was one he felt was worth it.

“Barba!” he heard from the backseat, smiling softly to see Ollie more awake than he’d expected. He’d seen the boy periodically, mostly during evening handoffs when Carmen’s mother would drop him off so Carmen could take him home. There were a lot of single mothers in his life, and all were exceptional. The last few days, Carmen and Ollie both had spent a lot of time with him. He kept introducing Ollie to music and movies and foods like he could make up for everything Drew wouldn’t experience by making sure Ollie did.

“Oliver!” he smiled, twisting around to smile at him. The boy kicked his leg, and the blue stripe on the rubber of his sneakers lit up. “I like your shoes.”’

“Thanks,” he giggled, kicking again.

“You’re good with him,” Carmen smiled, the navigation now leading her to get his take out.

“He’s a good kid. Noah made me better with kids. Liv said I held him like a sack of flour at first.”

“You’ll be ready by the time you have your own.”

“I work too much.”

“That can change.”

“I don’t deserve to have a child,” he shrugged, and he could see Carmen purse her lips. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be good at it anyway. Wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I might end up like dad. No kid deserves that shit.”

“Bad word!” Ollie scolded, tablet in hand as he watched a movie.

“Sorry, Ollie. Stuff.”

“You’ve never told me what he did.”

“He wanted heterosexual, toxic machismo and got a swarmy, emotional bisexual.”

“You’re not that emotional.”

“He took care of that,” he said darkly. “I used to cry when he went after mami. That turned his attention to me.”

Carmen knew there was nothing she could say, so instead she silently took his hand, squeezing softly. He was taken aback at first, but he kept her hand loosely in his as his head lulled against the headrest. It was strangely grounding, the physical affection. He’d felt like he was swimming the last few days as memories of his father, his father’s death, his childhood, and each case he tried bubbled up. That wasn’t including the vision of baby drew and Maggie in the hospital room that lingered everywhere.

The conflicting guilt and conviction he’d done the right thing also broke a damn and the feelings he’d suppressed- loneliness, guilt, abandonment, distrust- were all bubbling to the surface. He’d spent so much of his life trying not to process them so he could focus on a conviction rate and moving forward that he didn’t have the tools everyone else did sometimes. Right now, Carmen felt like an anchor, and he was grateful for her.

He got out of the car when Carmen parked, ordering enough food for three adults, one take out container containing whatever he thought a toddler could handle. Soon enough, they were settled in his living room and eating, though Ollie had minimal interest in the pork, beans, and rice in front of him. The thought crossed his mind that when he took one of the out of state jobs, he wouldn’t have Carmen there like this. He was sure this friendship would be short lived; when he didn’t need her anymore, she’d leave him. That’s what usually happened, wasn’t it? She just felt bad for him.

“I’m moving to Iowa,” he blurted out before he was able to spiral into the self loathing he’d recently discovered.

“That’s far,” she said, and he thought he could detect sadness in her voice.

“There’s FaceTime.”

“Not quite the same, but I’ll take it.”

“Tripp understands,” he said, sobering up as the food hit his stomach. “He lost a sister. Watched someone dying like with my dad except she’d been born that way. It was years, Carmen.”

“That’s a lot. I’m going to miss you, Rafael. Ollie will too.”

“Come visit. If the tickets are bad, I’ll pay. Or cover renting a car.”

“You’re drunk,” she chuckled.

“Sorry. Best friend. It’s the rules.”

“We’ll come. But I can afford tickets.”

“Promise if it’ll make things tight, you’ll let me. You’re raising a kid. No kids means I can afford to get my friend the occasional plane ticket.”

“Deal.”

“Next week, will it be Des Moines or prison? Who knows! I’ll probably grow a beard either way. Think they’d recognize me in prison if I grow a beard?”

“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Stop shaving and we’ll find out.”

She could see Rafael getting tired, head leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. She preferred when he joked about all of this. They were stuck waiting, and this time the next night they’d probably know. Ollie climbed between them on the couch, and she realized her boss wasn’t the only one almost asleep.

“You two can stay,” Rafael yawned, hand smoothing Ollie’s curls back.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice not being alone in the morning. And you can stay here to work. We didn’t talk about it, but I know you hate Stone. He’s a good attorney. Doing his job.”

“His job is wrong.”

“That isn’t his fault. If another ADA had done what I did? I’d be prosecuting them.”

“Go get ready for bed,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. As she scooped Ollie up, she kissed the top of Rafael’s head. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Carmen?” She turned in the doorframe. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“I’m glad to, Raf. Promise you’ll actually sleep.”

“I promise.”

“Night, Barba,” Ollie yawned, waving over his mom’s shoulder as they entered his guest room. Maybe Iowa was going to be too far if he didn’t go to prison. He was getting quite fond of having Carmen around quite quickly. He wasn’t going to be her superior anymore, so this friendship could be something he maintained.

Olivia would be a given; even if they were primarily united around work, she was also one of his closest friends and maybe not working together would make him relax. Hell, maybe the end of his life in the city would do it. Rafael couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt he was chasing an upward trajectory in New York City. Even at Harvard, the plan had been to return. Maybe coming into Des Moines established would let him feel comfortable just existing.

He liked cooking and reading in the park and going out dancing on occasion. He rarely had time for two options, and the latter made his cheeks red with embarrassment at the prospect of a colleague seeing him during the outing. In Iowa, maybe he could go dancing and take up a new hobby and wear jeans without feeling like something was out of his control.

He woke up before Carmen, excited to be able to cook for her. He appreciated the fact she was happy to help him, but she had paused her own life for the last few days. Their friendship was relegated to offices and dinners by the office. He’d come to her baby shower and birthday parties and even a holiday party, but that was it and that had other colleagues present. Except maybe the baby shower, but he was determined to buy up whatever was left on her registry when the day came, using mami, abuelita, and the older women at church as pseudonyms to pretend he’d just let family know.

“You can cook?”

“I just never had time,” he shrugged, tray coming out of the oven.

“You made pastries?”

“Pastelitos de guayaba.” Carmen didn’t miss how proud he looked as he admired them. They were something he’d always made with family. “They aren’t hard, but abuelita used to make them for me all the time. Puff pastry, sweetened cream cheese and guava paste. Cafe con leche on the way.”

“You couldn’t sleep?” He shook his head, pouring the espresso and adding the milk before placing mugs at the breakfast counter. His mouth was set in a line now, the corners sucked in as he focused on the countertop. Her hand rested on his, giving a squeeze and he rewarded her with a soft smile. “We’ll be helping you pack for Iowa in no time.”

“I hope,” he nodded, biting into a pastry. Ollie came out, eyeing the countertop. “Want one, Oliver?”

“What are they?”

“Delicious,” Carmen groaned, having torn into her own. That was enough for Ollie, who accepted a pastry from Rafael with a soft Thank you before biting into it carefully.

“Wow! It is good!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

It felt a somber affair, despite the pastries, when Carmen saw him off to court. She chose to wait in his apartment, ringer on high and news coverage on. Ollie was easily entertained by the toys she had in the car, and the phones were forwarded to be answerable on her cell phone. By the end of the day, she’d put dinner in his slow cooker and cleaned most everything at least once. And then her phone rang with his ringer. She’d picked one of the other presets for him long ago, and she watched Ollie with his blocks as she answered.

“Rafael?”

“Not guilty,” he exhaled, still unable to believe it as he surveyed his office to begin packing. Her desk was empty, and he didn’t mind today because if she had been here, McCoy would’ve had her helping Stone. Carmen was his assistant, his friend, and it was bad enough to know Stone would probably take his place at work.

“Thank God,” she whispered. “Did you turn the letter in?”

“I put it on Jack’s desk. I’m hoping to be gone buy his return. I think three heavy boxes will cover it. Plus anything I hung, but other than diplomas most of it came with the place.”

“I put dinner on. Ollie and I ran to the store and picked up short ribs and potatoes and carrots. I needed something to do.”

“Nervous you’d be visiting me in prison?”

“You know damn well juries can be swayed. You’ve done it.”

“And I’m safe. I’ll be there in a couple of hours, okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you get to go to Iowa.”

#Rafael Barba x Carmen #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu

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everything-is-by-design · 4 years

Text

Some Kinda Wonderful

Part two. Okay so I had fun writing this because I am hopelessly in love with Lucifer and of course Mark Pellegrino by extension. And there’s nothing wrong with writing some smut before bed, right? This chapter is just straight up smut-tastic. Enjoy folks.

Word Count: 2.8k

Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, grace!kink, smutty smut smut

The reader has gotten over her scare from the bar and her and Lucifer have grown closer. He longs after you to make you his but is worried that you may not feel the same way. At a fancy gala the reader’s parents are holding, things get a bit heated, to Lucifer’s absolute delight.

Lucifer stood in front of the mirror adjusting his scarlet tie. He wasn’t sure how to actually tie one but you had helped him. And any moment you could spend close to the angel, you took without question. “Why are we going to this thing again? It sounds really boring.”

You fixed your dress, trying to pull it further down over your ass. It was really short. Lucifer turned to look at you and drank in your form. He looked at you hungrily for a moment before snapping out of his daze when you spoke. “It’s a charity gala for my parents. They’re expecting we at least make an appearance.”

The whole incident at the bar happened about a month ago and since then, you and Lucifer had been nearly inseparable. You spent most of your time together but nothing had ever happened between the two of you, save for a few forehead and cheek kisses. You had needed time to recover and eventually it became clear to both of you that best friends was as close as you were going to be.

Frankly, Lucifer wanted nothing more than to claim you as his mate but he was hesitant, unsure if you felt the same way. Of course, you didn’t think he wanted you either. But things were different with you. You were kind and gentle towards him and held no hatred or judgement regarding his very existence. He didn’t want to ruin what you two shared but more than anything he wanted to bed you and make you scream his name. Lucifer was still unsure of the whole intimacy thing. He’d been stuck in a cage for centuries, he wasn’t used to being close to people, and he certainly had never had sex before. Though, he figured he could find his way around you easily enough without actually having to tell you that he was a virgin.

Lucifer cleared his throat, “Will there be kids my age?”

You laughed which sent butterflies zooming around Lucifer’s chest. You approached him and centred his tie. His heart pounded in his chest at your proximity. “You clean up good, Satan.”

An impish grin passed over his features. He grazed his hand along your shoulder as he fixed the strap of your dress. “Not so bad yourself.”

You felt goosebumps arise from where he’d touched you and you stifled a rather large shiver that threatened to give you away. You stared up into his icy orbs as you daydreamed about seeing what he looked like under those clothes. You were thankful that he’d agreed not to read your mind. You didn’t know what he would think of you lusting after him.

You arrived at the gala, taking Lucifer’s hand as you exited the limo. The paparazzi had already made it, you observed, quite aware that they’d be taking pictures of you. The thought made you nervous. Lucifer picked up on it and threaded your arm through his. “You know, I could always—”

“I don’t think violence will be necessary but I appreciate the sentiment.” You smiled.

“Shall we?” The angel offered. You nodded as the both of you walked down the red carpet that lead to the hall. You entered the building to an unnervingly large crowd of people. You slowly moved through the sea of people, desperately wanting to get to your seat before this thing started.

You found your seats at a table by the front of the stage. Before you could sit down, you heard your mother’s voice ring out from behind you. “Oh, Y/N, you made it! You look so glamorous.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You blushed, feeling Lucifer’s eyes on you.

“And who is your date?” Your mother looked impressed with Lucifer. Oh, if she only knew.

“Oh, yes. This is my friend, uh....” You paused. You couldn’t just call him by his name to your incredibly Christian mother. Shit.

“Nick,” Lucifer said, reaching out his hand. You breathed a sigh of relief as your mother shook the angel’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for escorting my daughter. You’re quite a step up from her usual choice.” Your mother sneered a little at the thought of your bisexuality. “I have to go. Enjoy the show, kids.”

“What the hell was that about?” Lucifer asked as he pulled your chair out for you.

You sat down and rolled your eyes. “She’s a bit of a bible thumper. Apparently your Dad is going to send me to hell for eating out.”

A smirk pulled up at his lips as he sat next to you. Lucifer felt a surge of lustful energy when he imagined you with a woman. He then instantly became jealous at the thought. Wanting you and only you. The lights began to draw low as your father walked out onto the stage. He began to do his speech and you sipped your glass of champagne before the toast.

Your father finally raised his glass and the attendees followed suit. Everyone took a sip and after your father introduced the first guest to speak. You stifled a yawn, eagerly awaiting the first wave of food that was soon to be coming out.

You began to eat your salad hungrily and finished rather quickly. Lucifer snapped his fingers quietly and the contents of his bowl disappeared. No one seemed to notice. You elbowed him, “Hey. You’re not a super powerful archangel tonight okay? You’re a normal person who has to eat.”

“I’m a carnivore. I need steak not leaves.” Lucifer whined. You glared at him and he smiled mischievously at you. You shook your head and smiled. He smiled back, his heart fluttering a little.

After everyone had dessert, you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. Lucifer listened intrusively to every step you took. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened a month ago and if that meant listening to you pee then so be it.

You washed your hands and dried them and then stood in front of the mirror. Unable to help thinking about Lucifer. He looked so good in a suit. You thought about him using his tie to bind your hands while he had his way with you. Your breathing accelerated at the thought and you could feel yourself slick with arousal.

Lucifer bit his lip, wondering why you hadn’t returned. Even though he said he wouldn’t, the angel tuned into your mind and happened upon the rather dirty daydream you were having. The rest of the table were talking but Lucifer sat rigid in his seat as he listened in to your thoughts.

You imagined Lucifer finding you in the hallway and covering your mouth with his hand as he dragged you back into a nearby closet. His hands on you touching you in every way you’d thought of over the past month. “Oh, Lucifer.”

Does she really feel that way about me? How long had this been going on? Lucifer thought to himself. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he anxiously awaited your return.

“Snap out of it, Y/N,” You scolded yourself. “You’re just friends. He doesn’t see you like that. He doesn’t want you.”

“You’re wrong,” Lucifer mumbled under his breath.

You took a deep breath and then fixed your hair. You left the bathroom and returned to your seat just as the next guest speaker came on the stage. You cleared your throat before taking another sip of your wine and tried desperately to ignore your dampened panties. You quietly hoped that you wouldn’t stain the chair.

Lucifer inhaled slowly as he breathed in the scent of your arousal. His eyes rolled back into his head at the thought of tasting you. He couldn’t take it anymore when he saw you press your legs together and your fingers curl around your napkin. Lucifer reached out his hand under the table until it came into contact with your thigh.

You drew in a sharp breath at his action and glanced in his direction. He kept his gaze on the stage, fighting the urge to take you right there on the table. Lucifer’s hand moved slowly down your thigh and you let him do it. Fireworks were going off in your mind as he got closer to your sex. He tapped on your inner thigh and you obediently opened your legs.

Lucifer leaned into you, his cool breath tickling your ear, sending shivers through your body. His finger was pressed against your panties and your grip on the napkin had intensified as you waited for him to do something. “Don’t make a sound.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you nodded without making eye contact. Lucifer slipped his hand in through the leg hole of your panties and made contact with your clit. You jumped a little at the contact. You were so wet for him already and it sent shockwaves of lust throughout Lucifer’s body.

He began to rub your clit, starting out slow but then quickening his pace. You bit your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to give you away. Suddenly, Lucifer withdrew his hand much to your dismay. With a quick, yet quiet, snap of his fingers, your panties had vanished. You jumped as cool air tickled your folds. He quickly returned his fingers to your sex, this time slipping in a finger to your wet pussy.

Your gasp at his sudden entrance sent prickles of lust throughout the angel’s body. His breathing was heavy and ragged. For what felt like ages he’d kept his distance, not wanting to spook you after the incident. But now you were at his mercy and nothing pleased him more than to feel you squirm under his touch.

Then, the unthinkable happened. Someone at the table began to talk to you. “Y/N, what are you doing with yourself these days?”

You attempted to squeeze your legs together and struggled to keep a straight face. Lucifer, however, wouldn’t allow you to as he didn’t stop, nor was he planning to. He found this far too amusing and was enjoying himself thoroughly. You swallowed, “Uh, uh, I’m working at a, um, retail shop. Ah!”

You gasped when Lucifer pushed in a second finger. He moved at a rapid pace and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it. The woman frowned, “Isn’t that commoner’s work?”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips and tried to cover it up with a cough. Lucifer smirked. “No, um, it’s actually quite a humbling experience.”

The woman considered it as your head started to spin. Then, you felt a new sensation caress your folds. You recognized that the force was similar to the energy you were able to control. You spoke your query in a whisper, “Is…Is that your Grace?”

You looked at Lucifer and he smirked at you, confirming your suspicion. Lucifer removed his hand which was quickly replaced by a tendril of his Grace. You watched the angel as he sucked on the fingers that had been inside you moments prior. You squirmed a bit as as his Grace pushed inside you and quickly found your g-spot, beginning to vibrate against it. You dug your fingers into the chair, feeling the fabric start to tear. Lucifer returned his fingers to your clit which quickly brought you to the edge.

“I’m gonna…” You said breathlessly before your orgasm crashed into you like a freight train. You bowed your head, biting your lip so hard that you drew blood, as you stifled a scream. You slowly began to come down from your high and felt the force leave your body. You felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of your neck. No one had seemed to notice what had just transpired and for that you were grateful. Once you regained the ability to function, you slowly stood and tucked in your chair. You leaned into Lucifer’s ear, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. “I need you to fuck me. Hard. Right now.”

Lucifer growled hungrily before immediately standing up and and following your lead. You both walked quickly from the hall, his hand on the small of your back. As soon as you got clear of the door Lucifer grabbed your hand and steered you into an alleyway. He pushed you up against the wall and met your lips in a hungry, bruising kiss that left you flushed. You threaded your fingers through his blond locks and pressed yourself closer to him.

Lucifer’s mouth moved to your jaw line and then down your neck before he sunk his teeth into you. You let out a moan which sent the angel into a frenzy. His hands roamed your body from your ass to your breasts almost as if he only had one chance to touch you. You reached down to his pants and made quick work of his belt and zipper.

Lucifer paused briefly to pull down his pants and boxers until his fully hard cock sprung free. He hoisted you up effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He met your lips again but didn’t move. Worry plagued him and he began to doubt his actions. “Y/N, do you want me?”

You were in a bit of a daze and blinked a few times before regaining your ability to speak. “What kind of a question is that?”

“Y/N,” He pressed.

You took his face in your hands and leaned your forehead against his.

Lucifer panicked when you said nothing. “I don’t want to do this if you don’t want me.”

You pulled back and smiled. “I want you. I want to be yours. I want to belong to you. I want you inside me.”

That was all he needed and with one quick thrust, he was inside of you. You yelped at the intrusion but soon became entranced by his steady pace. You revelled in the feeling of your intertwined bodies. Nothing could measure up to it and nothing could compare. You kissed up his neck and across his jaw until you found his mouth once more. Lucifer had one arm wrapped around your waist and placed his other hand on the wall for support. His mind was exploding. His passion and love for you completely overtook him and he was overwhelmed by the force that kept driving him into you.

You felt one tendril of his Grace vibrating intensely against your clit while another slowly entered your ass. You squealed at the immense pressure that was threatening to explode inside of you. “Lucifer! Oh my G—”

Lucifer’s hand was over your mouth before you could finish your sentence. He then tugged on your hair, leaning your head back so that your eyes met. His irises shone scarlet and they cut into you like knives. “Watch your mouth, pet.”

You nodded and he released you. “Sorry, still not used to that.”

“Well, get used to it or I’ll stop,” He threatened.

You clung onto him for dear life. “Please, no. Don’t stop.”

You heard him chuckle, “That’s what I thought.”

Lucifer leaned into you, his cool breath tickling your skin. You felt yourself coming undone. There wasn’t much more you could take before you erupted with pleasure. His Grace and his cock pumping in and out at a relentless pace. Lucifer let out a guttural growl as he felt your walls start to flutter around him. He indulged in every moment with you and at the idea that he finally had you. You were at his mercy. You were in his arms. You were his. Your name slipped from his lips like a prayer as his cock twitched inside of you. “That’s it. Cum for me, Y/N,” Lucifer hissed in your ear.

You whimpered in response as you clutched the back of his neck. Suddenly, the building pressure in your abdomen released and your second orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave. Every nerve in your body felt like they were on fire as jets of pleasure spread down from your shoulders and into your legs which made your toes curl. Lucifer felt his own blissful release smack into him like a ton of bricks and he moaned out your name as hot strings of cum filled your pussy. You both panted heavily while still holding onto each other.

So many things raced through the angel’s mind and yet only one thought escaped his lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

You pulled back to look at him, his eyes filled with a different kind of desire that you had only seen a few times in your life. You kissed him softly, a kiss to which he returned as you held his face in your hands. “I love you too, my beautiful Morning Star.”

Lucifer’s heart fluttered at the mention of his name. No one had called him that in a long time and not with so much love in their hearts. He smiled widely at the thought that after years of bullshit and family drama he had finally found his own piece of paradise.

#lucifer spn #lucifer supernatural #spn!lucifer #supernatural!lucifer #lucifer #supernatural #lucifer x reader #reader insert fanfiction

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elyreywrites · 4 years

Text

so tell me what you want to hear

a gift for @bionerd2point0 for the Capes & Coffee Discord server’s gift exchange!! a huge thank you to my betas for this fic: Oceans and Tasteofpaint!!

title is from One Republic’s “Secrets”!

please REBLOG - DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 3,714 words Tim Drake/Jason Todd

Summary:

And here Tim was, about to ask his goddamn crush to be his fake boyfriend.

He couldn’t do this, he absolutely, positively, could not—

This was a huge mistake.

- - - - -

Tim stared at the phone, at the contact pulled up, and wished for some sign to either call or suffer through the whole situation. He could suffer through it, but… Tim was fed up with being asked the same question every time he was out in public.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Who are you dating?”

“Is there anyone special in your life right now?”

Ever since he turned eighteen, the vicious sharks that made up the press were desperate for the details of his romantic life. Bruce had said it would blow over soon enough, once some new sensational story came about, but four months later they were still going strong. Tim was at the end of his rope with them.

There were only so many times he could say, “No comment.” It hadn’t made any difference at all in four months. Apparently, being the youngest CEO in history and of such a huge company made him very eligible. While the chatter had calmed down a bit over time, it was still present enough that something had to be done. Something drastic.

Something he was dreading.

All he needed for a few weeks was a fake date, a partner that would get the vultures off his back. It had to be someone he knew because it had to seem authentic. That was a short list though. Dick wasn’t an option. Kon, Bart, and Cassie were all out because they were all busy and they’d have to be in Gotham. Stephanie and Tam were just… no. He wasn’t doing that. That really only left the first and last person Tim would ever want to pick.

Jason.

Once upon a time, Jason had been his Robin, his hero, the person he wanted to make proud almost as much as his parents. The hero-worship had died when Tim nearly did. Tim’s crush did too, but that didn’t stay gone. It took a few years, Jason apologizing, and the Reds working a few cases together, but it returned with a vengeance.

And here he was, about to ask his goddamn crush to be his fake boyfriend. Tim would be lucky if this didn’t break the shaky… truce? Friendship? Whatever it was they had. Tim would like to call them friends, but did Jason think they were friends? Oh god, Jason probably didn’t think they were friends.

He couldn’t do this, he absolutely, positively, could not—

The soft chime of his phone’s reminder tone broke him out of the downward spiral of his thoughts. The notification popped up, dragging his attention from Jason’s contact. Right, he was supposed to appear on some talk show tomorrow. Youngest and most eligible CEO and all. He just knew they’d try to pry into his love life.

Tim had to do this. Before he could rethink it, he pressed dial. At the first ring, he almost panicked and chucked it across the room instinctively. This was a terrible idea, but it was the lesser of the two evils. He was just about ready to snap and really tear into the press. Physically, verbally, he wasn’t even sure at this point.

Jason answered on the third ring. “What’s up, Timbo? You don’t call very often.”

This was a huge mistake.

“I need you to do me a big favor.”

“That depends,” Jason drawled, “on what the favor is.”

Wincing, Tim said in a rush, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend for a little while so the press will stop hounding me for details on a love life I don’t have.”

Silence. Every moment without a response made it harder for Tim to breathe. He had fucked up, he had fucked up, abort, abort—

Jason snorted. “You know, I was wondering how you were holding up with that. I’ve seen the news about it. Guess this answers my question, huh?”

“Guess it does. Any chance you could answer mine?” Nerves and stress made him snarky, okay? The past few months were rough, Tim thought he could be forgiven.

“Yeah, Timmy, I can help you get them out of your hair for a little while,” Jason said. “Alright, do you want to figure out our epic love story right now, or is there something you need to do?”

Tim sighed, relaxing bonelessly into the couch. “Now please. I have to be on some morning talk show tomorrow, and they’re going to ask.”

The next hour and a half, Tim swung wildly between excitement over getting to date his crush and hopeless misery that it was fake. They both gave the okay for holding hands, going on dates, even kissing to sell this charade. He would get to do all of that with Jason, which kind of made him want to bury his face in a pillow and scream like a complete cliche. As soon as they were out of the public eye, though? There wouldn’t be anyone to pretend for. All bets would be off.

The next few months were going to be amazing and terrible all at once.

Tim didn’t sleep much that night.

- - - - -

This was absolutely a mistake and Tim should have just suffered through the continual questioning about his non-existent love life. What the hell had he been thinking?! Sleep-Deprived Tim made terrible choices, honestly. Sure, he could totally fake-date his sort of long-time crush! That wouldn’t end in disaster and heartbreak at all !

Real and fake heartbreak, even, because they had a messy break-up planned. It was going to happen in two months in public, and he would cry – that probably wouldn’t be fake – and the press would hopefully feel sorry enough for him to not pester him about romance for a while.

Tim was absolutely doomed. He literally set himself up for failure.

“Mr. Drake-Wayne?”

Tim startled, staring at the assistant that had called his name.

“You go on in 5 minutes,” the assistant said.

This whole situation was messing him up. He was usually more aware of his surroundings, but he kept getting lost in thought because he was fake-dating his crush and one-time hero. Oh god.

Focus. Talk show. They’ll inevitably ask, and then he has to get to work on selling this whole… thing.

He heard clapping and then the assistant gave him a nod. “That’s your cue,” they said. Tim walked out, his CEO-Drake Heir smile firmly in place.

To his surprise, the host, a woman in her mid-thirties, stayed on script and didn’t ask if he was dating anyone until halfway through the show. When the question did come, Tim coughed and glanced away. The flush on his face wasn’t fake because for a couple months everyone would think that someone like Jason would date Tim, of all people. Jason Todd was legally dead, but he was handsome and kind and he would publicly be dating Tim. No, his blushing was very real, but that only worked to help sell the act even more.

“Oh,” the host teased, “that look says you are. Who’s the lucky lady? Or maybe you haven’t asked her out yet?”

His head snapped towards her with a very real scowl on his face. “He and I only started dating recently. It’s still pretty new, and I’m not willing to share more at this time. We would like to figure out our relationship before we face the scrutiny of the public.”

He almost smirked at her stiffly pleasant smile. She was trying to hide her shock, and to the inexperienced eye, she succeeded. However, Tim was a detective on a different level altogether. Plus, with Cass for a sister, he was bound to pick up something from the master of reading body language and expressions.

“‘He’, huh?” she said cheerfully for the camera. “That’s quite a surprise – you’ve had multiple girlfriends in the past.”

Tim hummed, “Yes, I’m bisexual, though I recently realized that I lean more towards men than women. See, something a lot of people don’t understand is that it’s like a scale and everyone has their own preferences. It took me a long time to come to terms with that because of the heteronormativity in our society and the compulsory heterosexuality that many of us in the LGBTQ+ community have to work through.” He smiled back at her, projecting as much innocence as he could as he derailed her interview.

“Ah. Congratulations on finding yourself, then,” the host grinned. Tim saw the panic in her eyes. Her interview with the young, eligible CEO had gone in an unexpected direction and she had no idea what to do.

Meanwhile, he was having the time of his life, and he was fairly sure Jason would be howling when he watched it. If Tim had to suffer through pretending to date Jason, he was going to enjoy any suffering others went through along the way. This woman was the first.

Tim sure as hell wasn’t going to regret coming out very publicly and speaking out about some of the problems in their society. He wasn’t even worried that much about how this would affect Wayne Enterprises – Bruce would back him up. He’d probably even be proud of Tim.

The rest of the show went very smoothly. All personal questions disappeared completely as the host stuck to discussing the various community projects that Wayne Enterprises had. It was rather frustrating that it took a fake-boyfriend and shocking the host of a morning talk show to actually be asked about his work, though.

- - - - -

His phone was blowing up with notifications by the time he was free from the cameras. Oh the joys of a live show and a family that either really supported him or wanted to find something to taunt him about – it was difficult to tell. All he knew was that Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Stephanie, and Cass usually tried to watch any time he appeared on TV. Which meant they all heard that he had a boyfriend, and he was about to be pestered to the ends of the earth.

He sighed but accepted the call coming in. “Hey Dick,” he greeted, projecting as much innocence as he could into his voice. It worked a lot better when he was younger and happier. Now he was a bit too tired and jaded to sell it.

“Timmy! I just wanted to check in,” Dick said pointedly. “You know, see if there’s anything new in your life. Maybe something you neglected to tell me?”

Humming, Tim pretended to think it over. “Nope, can’t think of anything,” he said finally as he continued to his car and climbed in.

On the other end of the line there was a quiet squawk and a scuffling sound, then a click. “Tim,” Bruce cut in and oh, he was definitely on speaker now. That meant they were ganging up on him, instead of letting him deal with them one by one. “You have a boyfriend.”

Tim didn’t answer – it hadn’t been a question, after all.

“Master Timothy, I do believe all of us feel hurt that you neglected to inform us of this development,” Alfred reprimanded.

Oh shit, now Alfred was in on this. Dammit, he really preferred dealing with them one at a time. “Alfred, it’s… complicated, but I promise that it’s a very new development! I haven’t been hiding it for days or anything, I swear. How about I come to the manor for lunch today and I’ll explain?”

“Very good Master Timothy,” Alfred sniffed. “I shall set out a place setting for you.”

Alfred hung up the phone, cutting off Dick and Bruce’s protesting.

Tim stared at his phone for a second and then hurried home. He needed to talk to Jason. He also needed to grab something for the inevitable headache. Any lunch with the whole family resulted in a headache, but at least this one might prove somewhat entertaining as well.

Tim collapsed carelessly across his couch, and dug his phone out of his pocket. With a resigned sigh, he dialed Jason.

When he picked up, Tim didn’t bother offering or waiting for a greeting. “You have to come to the manor for lunch.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Then, Jason asked, “Why the hell should I do that?”

Tim groaned and sunk deeper into his couch. “Bruce, Dick, and Alfred watched the talk show this morning—” Tim waited for Jason to stop snickering. So he did watch it then. At least he enjoyed it, apparently. “Yeah. They weren’t happy that they hadn’t been informed. It was fine when it was just Bruce and Dick, but then Alfred spoke up. Jay, he used the Disappointed In You voice. I had to say something!”

“Yeah,” Jason sighed, “that would do it. So, what did you say? That it’s fake or that we’re dating? Or both.”

“I said it was complicated and very recent.” Tim smirked and added, “I also said I would go to the manor for lunch and explain. If you come with me, you can see Dick and Bruce’s reactions first-hand and we can troll them a little more. Alfred will get the truth out of us pretty quick, but we can have some fun with this before he does.”

“You sneaky bastard.” He knew Jason well enough that he could almost feel Jason’s glare. “Alright fine, you little shit. I’ll be there for lunch so we can mess with those fuckers.”

Tim refrained from cheering – that would only make Jason change his mind. Well, he didn’t cheer out loud. Cheering internally was perfectly acceptable. Though this was going to be his first test at acting like Jason’s boyfriend for a little while. Why did Tim keep putting himself in these situations?

“Alright, see you there,” he said before hanging up. Tim hauled himself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. Coffee was imperative and he still needed to grab some medicine. After today, he’d know for sure whether fake-dating Jason would be amazing or painful.

An hour later, Jason was just climbing off his motorcycle when Tim pulled up to the manor. He waited for Tim to climb off his own bike and then murmured, “How do we want to do this?”

Tim paused. “What are you comfortable with?”

“I can put my arm around your shoulders, if you’re cool with that?” he offered. “Feel free to wrap your arm around my waist.”

Snickering, Tim walked over close enough for Jason to get his arm around him, and Jason pulled him into his side. He tried not to lean into the warmth, but if Jason did notice, hopefully Tim could pass it off as his usual touch-starvation.

Trolling Dick and Bruce was going to be hilarious.

Dick threw open the door just as they were walking up. When he did, his hands were on his hips and he looked ready to scold Tim for all his secret-keeping – something that never went over well in a family of detectives. Then it registered what he was seeing and the only way Tim could describe it was that Dick blue-screened. His face went blank and Tim could almost see an error message pop up.

Dick.exe has stopped working.

“Hey Dick,” Tim said casually, jumping right into it, “Jason’s my boyfriend.” As soon as he said it, he wondered if this was really the best plan. Jason was definitely on better terms with the family now, but there was still a chance that they’d react badly, and that might hurt Jason because as much as he tried to hide it, he still wanted their approval at times and oh god—

Dick grinned, and just – what? Yeah, Tim was glad that this was apparently being received well, but that… wasn’t the response he was expecting. At all. He was expecting shock, stuttering and stumbling and confusion ! Not… this.

“Finally!” Dick burst out. “Oh my god, we’ve all been waiting for you two to get together for ages! I guess this means Bruce wins the bet, then.” He mock-scowled at them. “Really, you two? You couldn’t have waited until one of you was in danger and then confessed? Or is that what happened? Oh my god, if that happened and none of us heard about one of you being in serious danger then the lecture on keeping secrets is going to be so much worse.”

“What.” Jason said.

Tim, however, was well on his way to panicking and fleeing Gotham entirely. Apparently, everyone else had picked up on his crush. Okay, sure, he wasn’t really surprised Dick knew after all the times he gushed about Jason to Dick, but enough people for a betting pool? How did everyone else find out? He’d been subtle! Of all the possible ways this could end terribly that had run through his head, he never thought Jason would find out because Dick couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Dick shrugged, “Yeah, we were betting on you two. I’m not sure why you’re so surprised. I mean, really, after all the other bets we make? I’m just glad you two finally got your shit together.”

He huffed, looking reproachfully at Jason. “Little Wing, I love you, but if I had to listen to one more phone call about how much you wish you had never attacked Tim because he’s wonderful and amazing and he didn’t deserve what you did to him – I was going to scream. And Tim, Baby Bird…” Dick looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “I really don’t need to listen to another twenty minute rant about how incredible Jay is and how you’re so happy he’s doing better now. I mean, you two were ridiculous. Bruce had to listen to me whine about it.”

Tim.exe has stopped working, Tim thought, trying to process all of that with his brain moving at a snail’s pace. Because it sounded like Jason liked him too, but that – that couldn’t possibly be right. There was absolutely no way his feelings were reciprocated. Tim risked a glance at Jason, half-terrified of what he’d see, but Jason didn’t seem confused or disgusted or anything like that. No, he was just as utterly gobsmacked as Tim was, but that didn’t mean he felt the same.

“Man, you have no idea how heartbroken I was when I thought you had started dating someone else,” Dick continued, oblivious to their reactions. “I knew you thought Jason probably thought you were an annoying pest at best, so I thought you’d given up and started dating someone new. Meanwhile, Jason was absolutely convinced that you couldn’t like him after the whole Pit Madness thing. But I am so glad you two worked it all out!”

“We’re fake-dating to get the press off my back,” Tim blurted.

Jason’s head snapped to look at Tim. “You think that I think you’re an annoying pest?”

“Okay , so uh,” Dick rocked back on his heels, “it looks like you two have some things to discuss. I’m just… going to go inside now. Lunch will be ready in ten minutes, so try to have it sorted by then? Come in once you do. Uh. Good luck?” He slipped inside and closed the door.

Tim stared at the closed door, trying not to stare at his… at Jason. Oh god. What even were they now? He was still pressed up against Jason’s side. Why was he pressed up against Jason’s side? He really should not be—

As Tim tried to slide his hand away, the arm wrapped around his shoulders tightened, holding him in place. Then, Jason was in front of him, tucking Tim’s face into his chest and resting his chin on top of Tim’s head. Tim would forever deny that he squeaked.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re an annoying pest at all. The Demon Brat, sure, but I think you’re actually pretty fucking incredible,” Jason said.

“Oh,” Tim whispered. “I think you’re really awesome too. And I forgave you a while ago for what happened while you were still dealing with the Pit Madness. I promise I don’t hold it against you.”

“I don’t deserve that, Baby Bird. I tried to kill you, multiple times. I know for a fact that you’ve got scars from my attempts, so why would you—”

“That wasn’t you,” Tim cut in firmly, dislodging Jason to glare up at him. “That wasn’t you acting as yourself. I mean, it was the Pit influencing you and twisting things. Then on top of that, you were dealing with the trauma of dying and digging yourself out of your grave! It wasn’t you, Jay, and you’re not like that anymore. You’re so much better now, and I’m so glad because you’re happier. I just like seeing you happy.” Tim’s cheeks burned as he realized what he said. He groaned, hiding his face back against Jason’s chest.

Tim felt Jason’s chuckle. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“I like seeing you happy too,” Jason admitted. “Since Dick spilled everything already, I’ll go ahead and say that I like you, Tim. It’s why I agreed to be your fake-boyfriend. I wasn’t sure whether I was dreading or looking forward to the next couple of months. How would you feel about dating for real?”

Tim pulled away, eyes wide. “Yes, please, oh my god I was so not looking forward to the staged break-up. I was going to actually cry without needing to pretend at all.”

Jason laughed louder that time. “I would have probably held it together until I got back to my apartment. I already decided that I was going to be eating a lot more ice cream.” Tim tried to bury his grin in Jason’s chest, but Jason huffed and pulled back. “As fucking adorable as that is, didn’t I just say that I liked seeing you happy? Come on, don’t hide that pretty smile from me.”

“Oh my god, stop. We’re about to have lunch with our entire family, can you please not make me look like a tomato,” he groaned.

“Alright, alright, I’ll lay off for now. Let’s get inside, Baby Bird.”

“How much do you want to bet that they’ve been watching us through the windows?” Tim grumbled.

Jason shook his head as he started leading him towards the door. “I’m sure as fuck not taking that bet.”

#jaytim #fanfiction #dcu #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #red robin #red hood #nightwing #elyrey writes things #fake dating #mutual pining #lgbtq themes #lgbtq character #coming out

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the-queer-look · 3 years

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Bi mad about it

Name: Riley Age: 26 Location: Ashfield Occupation: Legal sector, policy and campaigns Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Gender: Non-Binary/Genderfluid

I think I like some (cisgendered, heterosexual) men for validation because men are easy, and having sexy with men is easy, so if I need to feel validated and pretty, that’s a way to feel better about myself. Once I realised that I began to reevaluate myself and my reasons for being with men, and I feel that while I’m asking myself those questions, I shouldn’t be dating men, because it may be for the wrong reasons.

My presentation and aesthetic has shifted a lot over the last couple of years – shifting out of teenager-ness and young adulthood – and as I’ve gotten more involved in queer spaces and more secure in other areas of my life, particularly around work and study, I’ve felt more secure to present in a way that feels good to me rather than what I perceive to be conventionally attractive. A few years ago, my aesthetic was very feminine – long blonde hair, cutesy dresses, and skirts, and crop tops and glitter – That was definitely a vibe of mine for a long time, but probably starting from cutting all of my hair off in 2017/18, I started pushing to dress and present much more androgynous. I no longer often present particularly feminine. Not because of any particular political statement, or because it disgusts me, but because it doesn’t fit me for who I am. Makeup is very much a sometimes thing now, whereas I used to find that I couldn’t feel attractive unless I was wearing enough makeup.

I genuinely don’t remember ever thinking that I was straight. Not in a “I am queer way” just that there was no point at which I ever went “ah yes, I am a gay now.” I think that a big part of that was having lesbian parents who had no expectations about my being straight. It was funny when I had my first partner at fourteen and my mum said “I’m disappointed that I have such a heterosexual daughter.” very much as a joke, but it did make me wonder if I was heterosexual or not. I knew that I liked kissing that boy, but I wasn’t able to properly think about my sexuality. Then when my mum found out that I’d been hooking up with my best female friend a year or two later, she started yelling out “oohhh the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree now does it?” also very much as a joke, but I was very much aware at that point that I was probably not straight. My mum eventually just settled into accepting that I’d be dating someone at some point and that gender wasn’t relevant to my dating choices.

There are people who feel like a man or a woman, but when I ask myself what it is that makes me feel like a woman I realise that I feel no connection at all to femininity, but I definitely don’t vibe with being a man. Being non-binary for me is a lack of attachment to the idea of any particular gender, and pleasant feelings at fluidity, androgyny, and the ability to be and present myself as I feel. I do still dress femininely sometimes, but it feels more like drag now. I very much vibe with comfy dude clothes and snapbacks now, I will wear a snapback whenever and wherever I can get away with it.

There are different areas of queer community and I feel connected to some more than others. I’m obviously not keen on the conserva-gays, that’s not my vibe at all, and I’m no longer really vibing with the clubbing/partying queer network. Queer activism can be great, but also incredibly toxic and can have a lot of drama that can take an incredible toll, so it’s nice to have queer community connections that aren’t necessarily contingent on organising spaces. It’s refreshing to have friends who are queer, and on board with my radical leftist politics, but also aren’t involved with all of those spaces.

To me queer means fucking with the gender binary, and fucking with capitalist ideas of the nuclear family. You can be homosexual and not be queer, and conserva-gays can die made about it, but having sex with someone of the same gender, or being transgender does not inherently make you queer, to be queer, I believe that you need to have some level of political analysis and awareness. It’s fine for someone to be a dude who likes dudes and live your life that way, those sorts of people are perfectly valid, but I don’t think that simply existing as an LGBT person entitles you to call yourself queer, I think queerness comes in when you have some analysis of Identity, the structures that we are within, and trying to make them better for the broader community. Like you can be gay and queer, but you can also be gay or queer.

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#lgbt #the queer look #queer #bisexual #nonbinary #culture #identity #photography #portrait

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bybibucky · 5 years

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Give Me All - Pt. 5

Bucky Barnes x reader Modern AU

After a series of disappointing wanna-be doms, you give this last one a chance and he not only makes you forget every man you’ve ever been with but also your own name.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: smut (18+ please), language, daddy kink, BDSM, phone sex, masturbation, sex toys, a hint of breath play, anal play, knife play

A/N: now that my assignment about Mozarts is finished and I’ve stopped having a stress-induced out of body experience, it’s time to upload more smutty things with our favourite dom

“Bucky?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I'm bisexual.” Where that came from, you had no idea. It just slipped out, you hadn’t even seen it coming.

In the beat of icy silence that followed, Bucky stared at you and you thought it was disappointment that he felt, ready to be rejected like you had been several times before.

“You mean...” he trailed off.

You nodded. “I also like girls.”

He put his tablet to the side before he gathered you on his lap. “Thank you for telling me.” He could sense this was a touchy subject to you from the way you were so tense before and melted in his arms.

“Thank you for not being an ass about it,” you murmured into his neck.

He put some distance between the two of you, though still remained close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “Why would I be an ass about it?” he asked, confused, “it's a perfectly normal thing.”

You shrugged. “Many people are.”

Bucky's features softened. “Well, I'm not.” He smiled. “Wanna watch a movie?”

The movie had already been left unnoticed when the logos were still on the screen but neither of you complained. You had changed positions on the couch so Bucky had his tongue on your clit and cock down your throat as you lay across him. Steve had left a few days ago and now you both relished in christening every surface in Bucky’s apartment.

::::::::::

“Ah, before I forget it.” Bucky turned back around, away from the door. “I left something in your room. A black velvet box and you are not allowed to touch it until I get back.”

You frowned. “Why give it to me now then?”

He grinned wickedly. “Because I love teasing you,” he said, giving you a kiss to the cheek and leaving.

You looked out the window after him until his car left your driveway and you loved the sight. He was in one of his black suits, which he usually wore at work, and it wasn't noticeable to the untrained eye but underneath, he had a variety of weapons clad to his body. You had watched him strap on the holsters around his ankles and hips, and the ones hidden by his suit jacket, just an hour ago. He had a knife in each sleeve of the jacket, too, and you wondered how he didn't cut himself with every move. But Bucky Barnes knew how to handle weapons.

He also knew how to handle you and you had come to find that he took both jobs very seriously. Not that there was any surprise in the matter. He took everything he did seriously and with the way he took full responsibility in every scene you did and whenever he knew you were giving up your inhibitions to become putty in his hands. It was why you weren't afraid to lose yourself, to fully let go. You trusted him. Maybe with your life even but you weren't fond of ever having to find that out.

And he was gone for a day when you started to miss him. This mission, as he sometimes called it, would have him working all of three weeks. Some celebrity wanted to go on vacation for a bit so he had to go with them.

Now, it was only Tuesday. Though already the second one. Somehow, it had ended up feeling much longer than expected – for the both of you. You had gone to work and lunch break and then to work again and then home every day but the whole time, you knew very well that you couldn't just go to his house or on a date with him. It was boring, to say the least.

You were getting desperate, as well. Of course, he had given you the rule that you weren't allowed to touch yourself at all. And because, weeks ago, you had found the loophole that rubbing yourself on your pillow or sitting under the bath faucet wasn't technically 'touching', Bucky had specified this time that no masturbating of any kind were to take place. You hated him but you loved him. It entailed that your orgasms would be that tad more intense and he had promised a nice, long scene in Tony's club when he got back.

But the prospect of all that didn't help ease the ache between your legs. And obviously, it didn't get better during the curse of the week. Especially when Bucky sent you pictures of himself.

Daddy please, you texted him instantly, you're torturing me. You knew it was pointless to beg but you tried anyway.

That's the plan, baby girl, he replied and shut off his phone again.

He had his phone turned off during work as to not get distracted. Only at night did he have the time to relax. He'd used this to get a hand around himself in order to blow off some steam.

This Tuesday, though, he didn't want to do it alone. He needed your voice to get off. Your moans and whimpers always got him so hard and tonight, he had to hear just that.

On top of that, your begging against the rules left him impatient but desperate times called for desperate measures.

:::::

“Daddy,” you whimpered into the phone when you picked up his call.

“Mmh, baby girl,” he groaned, happy to hear your voice for the first time in exactly four days, “how are you?”

It was a nice thing to say but weren't here for a casual conversation. “Aching, daddy.”

He hummed. “I bet you are,” he said, “same with me.”

You whined. “Daddy.” On the other end of the line, you were rubbing your thighs together, trying to keep yourself from sneaking a hand in between. That morning, you had woken up rutting against the mattress, instantly disappointed with yourself.

“I know, baby,” Bucky said softly, “if you're good for me and follow my lead, you'll get a reward today.”

You inhaled sharply. “I'll be good, I promise.”

“Tell me, what are you wearing?”

“Panties and a shirt you gave me,” you whispered.

“Mhm, I bet you look gorgeous.”

It wasn't a question and you didn't reply.

“Push up your shirt, get your nipples nice and hard for me,” he instructed and you obliged immediately.

“They're already hard, daddy,” you said.

Bucky chuckled. “I'd love to bite them like this, get you desperate. Use your fingers, baby. Pretend they're my teeth.”

“May I put the phone on speaker?”

“Are you alone right now?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Then you yes, you may.”

You tapped the button and threw your phone to the side to get your fingers on you as quickly as possible. The moment you pinched your nipples hard, as hard as he would if he were there with you, you moaned deeply, sensitive due to abstinence.

“You like that, kitten?” He was touching himself as well, palming his hard cock through his boxers.

“Oh God, so much.” You pinched and pulled, rubbed and twisted your aching buds, your panties drenched by now.

“Go on, baby, get your fingers wet for me.”

The index and middle finger of your right hand went up to your mouth and you opened wide, pretending they were his larger ones. You absolutely loved sucking on his fingers, always knowing where they were going to end up next.

A bit of drool dribbled down from the corner of your mouth with the way you eagerly worked your fingers, pushing them in and out, licking them.

Bucky could hear the wet noises you made and knew you were ready.

“Put them on your nipples again, tease them for me,” he instructed and pulled himself out of his boxers.

“Oh, daddy,” you whined at the feeling but you ached to use your dripping fingers on something else, something more south.

By now, he was full-on tugging on his cock, getting closer to release with every minute that passed by. You could his quickened breathing through the phone and your hips bucked upward into nothing.

“Please, let me touch my pussy.”

“You're desperate, aren't you?” You could also hear the chuckle he made before you could even answer. “Beg.”

At his demand, the words flew out of your mouth. “Daddy, please. I need to touch myself, Sir. Shit, daddy, please.”

He let you hang for another minute before, “go on, nice and slow circles on your clit for me. Through your panties.”

You moaned loudly with the first touch.

“That's it, baby,” Bucky growled on the other end of the line. “I'm so close.”

You nodded hastily although he couldn't see you but your words had escaped you. All you could think of was that sweet release. He wasn't there in the room with you but you could feel his hands all over your body, coaxing your closer and closer.

Both his breathing and the breathy sounds he made grew more and more erratic until he told you, “fuck, I'm coming,” and spilt his seed over his hands and abdomen.

You were so, so close yourself, riding the edge like a pro. But he hadn't told you to come so you had no other choice.

“You were so good,” he cooed with a lazy smile on his lips, “helping me get off. You get your reward now.”

But you couldn't believe your ears at his next words. Almost with tears in your eyes, your bucking hips came to an abrupt halt. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said sternly, although also very much amused. You were beginning to think you were only ever going to have an orgasm in his presence. “Go to your dresser and open the present I gave you.”

“But-”

“It's your reward for being such a damn good girl.”

You couldn't stay mad at him for too long, you'd do close to anything for him if it would make him call you that. “You're going to be the fucking death of me,” you sighed and pulled your shirt back into place.

“Have you opened it yet?” Bucky sounded a lot sleepier than he had before.

“On it.” You scrambled off the bed over to your dresser where the small package sat exactly like it had since he had placed it there. Inside was a golden key. You gasped. “Is this...?”

“Yep,” he replied casually, although this was actually a big step forward, “So you can walk in an out whenever you please. You already have a few clothes and a toothbrush there, this was the only thing missing.”

You were at a loss for words. “Thank you,” was all you managed, “thank you so much.”

::::::::::

The idea had been to properly show him how grateful you were and how much you cared for him with a surprise. It was rather easily put into reality, too. A few candles – safe to play with, of course; you'd just hope you wouldn't forget to put them out before it got too heated – dimmed lights and you kneeling on the soft carpet of the living room.

His bag unceremoniously hit the floor before Bucky was fully through the door.

“Doll?” he asked, initially confused at the sight of you. Of course, he was intrigued within a moment of studying your kneeling form. You were wearing his favourite lingerie and your hair up in a braid, just how he liked it. “What's this?”

“What does it look like to you?” you countered.

He arched an eyebrow. “Sassy, are we?”

You bowed your head, closing your eyes. This was going to be fun. “I'm sorry.”

Bucky snorted out a small laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Slowly, he started to circle you. When he came to a halt in front of you, he traced his fingers underneath your chin to lift it.

“I missed you,” he murmured and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “And I brought a few presents.”

You shook your head. “You've already given me so much.”

“These are for both of us, darling,” he said with a smirk and dropped to his knees. He pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle his waist. “For every orgasm you give me, you get a present.” His big hands on your hips pulled you against him. “Give it all you got, baby.”

And you rolled your hips like it was your last act on earth, desperate to be good for him, desperate to get off.

“Bucky,” you whimpered when your cunt dragged over his hardened middle, offering the perfect pressure.

He stopped your movements instantly. “What do you call me?” Bucky's voice was stern and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Daddy.”

“That's right,” he said, pleased now, “you can move.”

You rolled your hips again, faster this time, using his shoulders as leverage. With every thrust, you pulled yourself closer and closer. Whispering his title, the question whether you were allowed to come was on your lips but Bucky beat you to it.

Wrapping a hand around your braid, he pulled your head back to expose your throat to him. “Come for me, baby girl,” he said and leant down to suck a bruise to your skin.

You shuddered in his hands as you came hard and long from all the suspense he had put you through and even worked yourself through the orgasm with desperate force, aching to feel more of it.

“That's it, kitten,” he whispered, “so good. You get your first gift now.” As he reached behind himself, twisting a bit to see better, you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt trying to get it off. “No, no, leave it, baby.”

You wanted to protest but knew better than to open your mouth against him right now, not wanting to risk not finding out what he had brought.

Bucky took one of your hands and you watched in amazement as he strapped a leather handcuff to your wrist. It was thick and wide and felt oddly comfortable with the cushion on in the inside.

“Is this okay?” he asked, “not too tight?”

You shook your head. “I love it.”

He grinned at you with an essence of pride in him you fought to bring out every time you were like this.

Then, he took your other hand and did the same after guiding them behind your back. It made you almost push your breasts flush into his face as he reached around you, not that you were trying to hold back.

Whilst he was down there, he continued his mission to make you melt under his touch by gently kissing and biting your skin. No doubt, you would have bruises all over your chest and neck in a few minutes but they would become a reminder of what you were doing right now. You arched your back to offer him more skin to reach and he gingerly used this new access to move down to one of your nipples. There, it grew hotter and rougher and within seconds, he pulled on the bud with his teeth, forcing a moan out of you. Your bound hands behind your back fought the restrains as you longed to bury your fingers in his hair, making him stay where he was as he carried on his sweet assault.

“Daddy!” you shrieked when he wrapped a hand around your braid and pulled, hard. You fell backwards and almost into the carpet, had it not been for his other hand, the one he held tightly around your waist, that kept you mostly upward.

The rush of adrenaline caused by his action shot straight to your aching core and you couldn't help but rock your hips forward into his.

He chuckled darkly around your nipple before detaching himself from it. “Baby, if you liked that you'll love what I have planned,” he said, “but I need another orgasm from you to make it happen.

Bucky gave you no time to process his words or answer before he had pulled a knife from the back of his jeans, just like the first time you'd been together, and ran it across your thighs, careful not to cut you when he reached the edge of your thong and ripped the garment into pieces. Your body shuddered in his grasp, you couldn't stop yourself, and it earned you a sharp slap to the thigh.

“Keep still or I stop.” His voice rumbled with a deepness to it that told you – had you not felt him nudging against your ass – that he was painfully hard in his jeans.

You nodded weakly and forced yourself to let him continue. Within a few moments, he had torn your thong to shreds, followed by your bra, and thrown them off to the side together with the knife and gave you no warning before he thrust two fingers deep into your cunt, instantly searching out your g-spot.

A scream fell past your lips and he caught on, hitting his target every time he drove his fingers in and out of you.

It was almost embarrassing how close you were already but Bucky wanted you to be. “Baby, come on.”

“Daddy, fuck,” you rambled, high-pitched breathless, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Ah, so good, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, “then come, baby. Come for daddy.”

And you did, although it took you a few more thrusts before you came all over his fingers, suddenly spreading the wetness that gushed out of you.

The sight made Bucky let out a surprised moan. You had come not only on his fingers but soaked both his jeans and parts of his shirt. “Did you just squirt?” he asked disbelievingly.

But you were too far gone to actually process his words and offer anything other than a weak, “mhmm.”

His face spread out in a cocky grin. “You're so gonna do that again, I'll make sure this wasn't the last time,” he said, “so hot. You get two presents now.”

Your eyes followed his hands as they reached into the bag again.

Whilst you recognised one of the items as a brand new anal plug, a heart-shaped pink one this time, you couldn't fully identify what seemed to be a metal chain of sorts.

“What would you like first, baby girl?” he asked you in that deep tone of his that had you trembling.

“Plug, please,” you mumbled and Bucky nodded.

From somewhere in his travel bag, he pulled out a small bottle of lube and coated his fingers with it after he had made you lie back on the carpet, lower half still propped up on his lap.

With the other hand, he nudged your legs open for better access. Bucky circled your hole a few times before he pushed his middle finger in to the first knuckle. “Relax, baby. I've got you.”

You closed your eyes and complied, allowing him to pump his finger in and out a couple of times.

When you let out your first moan, he retracted his fingers and coated the plug with a new amount of lube.

“Look at me, pet,” he said, “I want to see your eyes.”

And the moment you locked eyes, he pushed the plug in with one steady move and your jaw fell slack. Bucky grinned a cocky grin as he wiped his hands dry on his jeans and tapped the base of the plug with his knuckles, making you squirm again.

“Mhm, that's what I like to see,” he said, “a good girl on my lap, silently begging.”

You whined shamelessly, aching for his hands on your body.

Bucky chuckled. “What do you want?”

“Daddy,” you breathed. It made you realise how far under you actually were. Usually, you felt normal until Bucky asked you a question and you had trouble gathering the words and making your tongue cooperate. This was more. “Touch me.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Touch me what?”

You licked your lips to be able to form the words better. “Please. Touch me please, daddy.”

“That's more like it.” He ran his hands up and down your inner thighs. Then, he turned his attention to the other thing he had pulled out of the bag. When he untangled the little chain, you recognised what it was. Nipple clamps.

Bucky pulled you back up into a seating position on his lap, the plug lightly rubbed over his legs and you let out a helpless moan.

“Daddy, fuck.”

He had you soaking his pants with more of your wetness when he leant down to suck at one of your nipples. The other he circled with his knuckles. He replaced them with a clamp and your breath got caught in your throat. It hurt. It hurt a lot and you knew it would be constant until he'd take them off again but you loved every bit of it.

Your other nipple was released with the tiniest wet noise and he attached the clamp there as well and you could only watch as he experimentally tugged on the little chain, drawing a moan out of you.

“Colour?”

“Green,” you hummed, eyes closed in bliss.

Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss that had your mind swimming even more. At the small of your back, your hands held tightly onto each other, desperate to touch something, anything.

“I need another orgasm, kitten.”

Without much of a warning, he pushed to fingers of his right hand into your pussy and placed his thumb on your clit. “Move,” was all he said. He was making you work for this one again. It was one of his favourite things to do. Torturing you by having you chase your own orgasm, not allowed to touch, only taking whatever he was giving you and getting nothing at the same time.

So, you moved. You rocked your hips a couple of times before you found an angle and a rhythm. And Bucky knew you had it when whined and rocked harder and faster, whispering his title like a prayer.

He kissed your throat again, eager to leave more marks to remind you both of this time, this reunion after ages apart. Then, he reached for the chain between your breasts and gestured for you to put it between your teeth. It made the feeling sting even more as it inevitably pulled with every move of your hips. You couldn't get enough.

Despite this being your third orgasm and having been barely touched, in comparison to other times you had with him, you came embarrassingly fast. Head falling onto his shoulder, you almost sobbed into his shirt as you came around his fingers. The thumb on your clit coaxing you through it and helping down when the waves eventually ebbed.

“You're so good, baby,” he whispered into your ear, “so, so good for me. Making daddy proud.”

You had no energy left to verbally react, so you merely nodded into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply, breathing in his scent.

“Last present, baby,” he said, “you up for it?”

You hummed in response.

Bucky pulled you flush to his chest with one arm and reached for the bag with his other. “This is a big one, baby,” he whispered against your lips once he was close enough.

“Is it your cock?” you asked dumbly. It pulled a surprised laugh out of him.

“No, baby. I meant metaphorically speaking.” His fingertips gently ran over the base of your skull before he tipped your head backwards. He asked for your colour just in case but your answer remained the same, so he kissed your neck again, so softly, this time, you almost didn't feel it in your headspace.

What you definitely did feel, though, was when some unfamiliar fabric touched your skin there. You jumped slightly at the sudden contact and searched for his eyes.

“Do you remember our first scene where I told you I was gonna put a collar on you?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“I got you one.”

With a sharp intake of breath, your eyes widened when you saw it. It was what seemed to be expensive leather with a clasp. In the middle, the two leather strips met in a silver heart-shaped ring. It was going to sit right in the middle of your throat and make you look so pretty. You longed to touch it.

“Can I?” he asked almost nervously.

You gave him permission with a silent nod and closed your eyes so you could only feel the leather touch your skin for the first time. And it was a completely new sensation. You knew what it felt like to have his hand around your throat but this? This was entirely different on such a high level of both intimacy and trust, and it was all you ever wanted.

He didn't even get the change to ask if you were okay with it when you hummed in approval at the feeling.

Bucky ghosted his fingers over the material absent-mindedly. “So pretty,” he cooed, “you look so good. I wanna ravish you.”

“Then do it,” you challenged. “Daddy,” was an addition for good measure.

With a smirk, he had set you back onto the carpet and stood up above you, telling you to follow him with a gesture of his finger. “Strip.”

Reluctantly, you rid yourself of what was left of your lingerie set, meaning stockings and the garter, the only things that had survived, and waited for more instructions.

He cocked his head to the side. “I want you against the wall,” he decided.

And so you found yourself, less than a minute later, in his arms getting pushed flush up against the wall, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Your arms were painfully trapped in between but you couldn’t care less. His lips were on you even before that. “You're gonna be the fucking death of me,” Bucky panted as he aligned himself with your entrance and inched inside. Both of you let out your separate noises of relief and bliss as you felt yourself adjust to his width and length. With a weak but determined buck of your hips, you told him to move.

Bucky didn't fuck you with the same relentless passion that he usually did in a scene but it was fast nonetheless and felt so, so fucking good.

“God, shit. Daddy.” You were borderline hoarse from moaning and it only grew worse when he reached up to slip a finger under your collar and pull from behind. All of a sudden, your vision was swimming in the best way possible as air flowed into you more slowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It spurred Bucky on. He sped up his pace and worked you both to the finish line.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you whined and whimpered even against the restraint.

“I need you to come, baby,” he grunted, “I'm so fucking close.”

You nodded as a sign that you were close yourself. Pulling him closer into you with your legs around his hips, his pelvic bone brushed hard against your clit and it was all you needed to get lost in your orgasm. With a scream, your walls fluttered around him, driving him mad with pleasure.

“Shit, fuck.” Bucky's thrusts grew sloppy as he spilt himself inside you for the first time in weeks.

It took you both a while to get down from that high. But when you did, you were sitting on the couch, candles around you long burned down, breathing heavily into each other until Bucky spoke up once more, “you know, those candles are giving me an idea.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #avengers fanfic #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine

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anonymoustalks · 4 years

Text

It has a Confederate soldier memorial and statue out in front I'm shocked they didn't make them take it down

(6-18-20) You both like Politics.

Stranger: Hey

You: hi

Stranger: What's up

You: mhm sleepy mainly

You: you?

Stranger: Nice

Stranger: Just showered now I'm sitting here

You: mhm anything you care a lot about?

Stranger: Social issues

You: like?

Stranger: Hmm abortion, guns, religion, immigration

Stranger: Transgender people

You: okay

Stranger: You?

You: mhm I'm abstract

You: I'm kind of a hippie haha

Stranger: Oh haha

Stranger: I'm conservative

You: but I believe in being nice

You: that's fine

Stranger: Haha good

You: people have different beliefs

Stranger: That's fair

You: where are you from?

Stranger: US

You: one of the more liberal states or conservative?

Stranger: South East

Stranger: Conservative haha

You: oh it's late

Stranger: Oh yeah 2 am

You: I'm northeast haha

Stranger: Lol

You: what kind of things do you like the most?

Stranger: Like in general?

You: sure or big picture

Stranger: Food, guns, movies, video games

You: mhm guns for entertainment?

Stranger: Not sure what else

You: like shooting range?

Stranger: Yeah like that

You: mhm I've never been

Stranger: It's fun

Stranger: I'd like to go camping sometime

Stranger: I never have

You: really? you should

Stranger: Yeah I really should

You: does anyone in your family do much camping?

Stranger: Nah nobody

You: aww haha

Stranger: Haha

You: my family doesn't either, but I've gone a few times with friends

Stranger: That's good

Stranger: How old are you

You: 26 you?

Stranger: 20

You: mhm how is college this year?

Stranger: Well schools were totally shut down for a while haha

You: is yours opening in the fall?

Stranger: Yeah I'm pretty sure if nothing changes

You: I guess it's nice to go back

Stranger: You think we will go back into lockdown if the virus gets worse

You: idk, I think it's hard to say

Stranger: I don't think my state will

You: I think they might if the hospitals get overhwhelmed

You: otherwise I think many states will care more about the economy

You: even if there are infections

Stranger: Right bye grandma

Stranger: We gotta fix the economy

Stranger: Haha

You: it's hard to make value decisions...

Stranger: Yeah it really is

You: I guess that's politics in a sense

You: What do you think? family or economy lol?

Stranger: I have many older family members who the virus could easily mess up

Stranger: Or kill

You: right

Stranger: My grandmother is 89

You: mhm

You: so for you, you would prefer it if the lockdown stayed?

Stranger: Hmmm it's really hard to say

You: mhm

Stranger: Cause it really is wrecking the economy staying in lockdown

You: mhm

Stranger: But the risk is much higher now

You: yeah, I don't really envy the people who have to make that choice

Stranger: Pray and hope for the best basically haha

You: I guess that's for the best I guess

Stranger: Right

You: are you very religious?

Stranger: I wouldn't say very

Stranger: I don't go to church and I'm not going start now

You: ah, why not?

Stranger: But I do believe in God and all that

Stranger: Well you know the virus I meant during the virus time

You: oh yeah haha

Stranger: Sorry haha

You: sorry lol

Stranger: But maybe one day I will

You: for some reason I read that as you never went to church?

Stranger: Oh I never have I mean I've went like a long time ago

You: oh okay

Stranger: When I was still a kid basically

You: does your family still go or were they not so religious?

Stranger: They weren't so religious yeah

You: mhm kay

Stranger: They are religious but they just don't like church for whatever reason

Stranger: I guess mom has hangovers Sunday morning lmao

You: ohh

Stranger: I'm kidding but she does drink

You: yeah

You: although I can kind of vaguely relate to not wanting to go

You: I don't like to go to things in groups

Stranger: Well church at least down here has a lot of uppity bastards

You: I feel like a person's relationship with God is also a very personal thing

You: uppity?

Stranger: That treat church as like this thing like for connections

You: oh...

You: that's not cool

Stranger: Instead of going for religion

Stranger: Uppity like wealthy and snobby

You: ahh okay

Stranger: You know those types?

You: yeah, I feel very uncomfortable

You: my family also immigrated so there's a cultural difference for me too

Stranger: Where they come from

You: china ^^

Stranger: So you're Chinese?

You: yup, ethnically

Stranger: Cool

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: I'm white

You: there are not many asians on the east coast lol

Stranger: They are more west coast

Stranger: Haha

You: yep

You: I was like the only one in my high school

Stranger: Lol

You: yeah it can be awkward at times

Stranger: My highschool had no Chinese people

Stranger: We had like 1 Indian

Stranger: It was mostly just white people haha and some blacks

You: mhm

You: it's the same for us except not many blacks either

You: New England is very white

You: lol

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: We only have that big black population due to them staying after slavery

Stranger: Without the black people this place would be like all white

You: mhm

Stranger: Hmm how many gay people did it have?

You: up here?

Stranger: Yeah

You: we are pretty liberal so we had a couple

Stranger: We had like one gay one and one bisexual

Stranger: And maybe one trans but I don't know

You: mhm I think we had more lgbt people than that

You: how big was your high school?

Stranger: Pretty small compared to a typical high school

Stranger: I mean we only had 1 floor

Stranger: No upstairs

You: ahh that's pretty small

Stranger: You actually had to leave and go to the other high school in the county if you wanted certain classes

You: did you grow up in a rural area or something?

Stranger: Oh yeah lol it's all woods around the highschool

Stranger: And around my house

You: ahh kay

Stranger: Pretty cool I always thought

Stranger: But lonely too

You: yeah nature is nice

Stranger: Cause unless you go out of town there is really nothing to do for young people

You: right

You: were you always involved in politics?

Stranger: We have a movie theater that some old man owns and he plays new movies for like $5

Stranger: That's like it haha

You: oh those kind of small places are cool, at least I think so

You: I like small random bookstores and stuff

Stranger: I hope he isn't closed I mean I haven't checked

Stranger: I hope Coronavirus didn't kill his business

Stranger: Oh yeah we have lots of little random stores

You: mhm yeah...

Stranger: We have a little historical building downtown that uses to be the courthouse

Stranger: It has a Confederate soldier memorial and statue out in front I'm shocked they didn't make them take it down

You: is your local county/town/city more conservative or liberal would you say?

You: compared to your overall state?

Stranger: Very conservative socially

Stranger: Even the democrats are socially conservative they just are left money wise

You: mhm

Stranger: So thats probably why haha

You: yeah I guess that makes sense

Stranger: That was there when the building was a actual court house

Stranger: So a black guy going to court sees that lol

You: yeah I wonder what they would feel

Stranger: I broke the law in the wrong neighborhood

You: mhm I feel like it's a kind of scary thought

Stranger: Exactly it probably makes you think is the judge or jury racist

You: yeah

Stranger: The sheriff is like related to me

You: ohh really?

Stranger: Distant family

Stranger: Yeah

You: that's cool

You: is it like a small town family thing where all the families know each other?

Stranger: Lol yes everyone figures out everyone's business

You: oh lol

You: my town growing up had a significant catholic community, and they were really tightly knit

You: like some of the teachers, students, all went to same church

Stranger: Yeah it's pretty close knit here

Stranger: This place is weird

Stranger: It's like one county with three little small towns that are very close

Stranger: That almost overlap

You: huh

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: Isn't that great?

You: I mean it's interesting I guess

You: I wonder how things turned out that way

Stranger: Like you could drive 5 or 10 minutes and be in the other town

Stranger: And 15 to the other

You: I'm surprised that like with a school your size, you don't have something like a regional high school or something

Stranger: The biggest town in the county has a highschool

You: ahh

Stranger: And out in the boonies between the other two was mine

You: right

Stranger: Haha it's just interested

Stranger: Interesting

You: yeah it's interesting for me to hear

You: do you ever get new people moving into your town in stuff?

You: or is it pretty much always the same families?

Stranger: And if you shoot a gun in the yard the cops don't come haha

Stranger: I've had a neighbor do that

You: is your area mostly safe?

Stranger: Oh yeah

Stranger: My brother had a guy try to break in once

Stranger: But he scared him off

You: mhm

Stranger: Just the same families

Stranger: Rarely you'll get like a immigrant family coming

You: yeah we have a lot of moving up here

You: not necessarily immigrants, but people moving in and out of state

You: that kind of thing

Stranger: Oh I see

Stranger: You in a big city?

You: no, suburb, maybe like 45 minutes out?

Stranger: Oh I see

You: yeah, but I think a lot of people move here when they get a job somewhere

You: I guess they move out if they follow their career elsewhere

Stranger: We move out of town when we want a good job haha

You: oh lol haha

Stranger: Unless you do a store, cop job, or military

You: mhm

You: you have a military base nearby or something?

Stranger: We do have a small community college

Stranger: Oh yeah we have a national guard Armory

Stranger: You can be there I think

You: mhm

You: yeah it's cool to hear about the kind of place you grew up

You: and sort of think about how that affects politics on the bigger map

Stranger: Oh yeah lol

Stranger: That's a little about the south

You: a little about the south?

Stranger: Yeah my southern state

You: oh okay

Stranger: Haha

You: is the older generation in your area more conservative than the younger folk?

You: or not really?

Stranger: Oh definitely

You: hmm you sounded like you were pro-lgbt but not trans, if I'm guessing your position correctly?

Stranger: Yeah I don't like trans people

Stranger: But some gays are fine

You: only some? ^^

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: The ones that are normal people are fine

You: ah okay

Stranger: Like I don't like the really feminine ones or activist

Stranger: I'm bi

You: mhmm

You: okay that's cool

Stranger: Thanks

You: I'm surprised because I would have thought you would have been more supporting of other lgbt people

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I guess it's my upbringing

You: you don't like the activists because... they stand out too much?

You: or...?

Stranger: Right

You: too liberal?

Stranger: I don't like the obviously gay guys

You: mhm

Stranger: And that too

You: are you out to your family?

Stranger: No

Stranger: Not yet

You: do you think you will some day?

Stranger: At some point maybe

You: mhm I get it

Stranger: But only if I'm with a guy

You: what about with your friends?

Stranger: Otherwise I'm not going to risk them having a bad reaction

You: yeah it makes sense

Stranger: I'll probably tell friends

You: mhm but you haven't?

Stranger: No just a online friend

You: aww that's sweet though ^^

You: I think it's good to be out to someone

Stranger: He's gay so he gets it

You: yeah

You: I'm happy for you

Stranger: He likes me but he lives very far off

You: aww yeah distance is a problem

Stranger: He's a British guy that wants to come move here haha

You: oh haha

You: I feel like that must mess with your timezones lol

Stranger: Lol hes conservative and likes Trump

Stranger: That's funny for a gay British person

You: yeah but hey, your sexuality doesn't define you

You: you can be conservative, liberal, whatever

Stranger: Yeah he's always sleeping when I get up

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: Or something like that

You: mhm do you like him?

Stranger: Oh yeah I do

Stranger: He's great

You: oh that's great ^^

Stranger: Haha you like hearing about this don't you

You: yeah I love hearing about this

You: it makes me smile haha

You: it's really sweet, seriously

Stranger: Maybe it is haha

You: mhm I'm happy for people when they find things for themselves

Stranger: Me too

Stranger: do you like someone?

You: yup

Stranger: Who?

Stranger: Guy or girl

You: mhm... I have a complicated situation

Stranger: Ohhh

You: oh? xD

Stranger: Are you a guy or girl?

You: well first of all, what do you think?

Stranger: I can't tell haha

You: lol

You: I guess that makes me happy

Stranger: Which are you?

You: mhm you can think of me as a guy I guess

Stranger: You trans?

You: I'm kind of have an androgynous perception of myself

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I like to think of myself as masculine and all that

You: technically it's nonbinary, but most conservative people don't take that very seriously

Stranger: So you're non binary?

You: I'm not really that much of a labels person

Stranger: I don't know about that one

You: but yeah, if you want to put me in a group, that would be the most accurate description

Stranger: I know what it is but I don't know how that works

You: oh what I mean by "labels" is that I don't think the terms are important

Stranger: Oh I see

You: like bi vs pan vs whichever other term

Stranger: I don't like pan

Stranger: To me it's no different than bi

You: mhm

You: to me they're very close to interchangeable

You: but for some reason people have a preference for which term they like

Stranger: I see

Stranger: Bi makes more sense to me

You: mhm

Stranger: Bi means 2 and you like both sexes

You: yup

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: And do you like a guy or girl?

You: idk there's people who spend too much time thinking about this and come up with terms for a lot of things

You: uh, I lean towards liking guys, and a little bit less towards girls

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: You like a guy now?

You: nope I'm with a girl now

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I gotcha

You: like if I were to give it numbers, like usually I'm more into guys like 80% of the time, and girls like 20%

Stranger: That's how I am

You: mhm awesome lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: It was great talking to you but I should go I think

You: okay, it was great talking!

Stranger: Goodnight

You: night

Stranger has disconnected.

#omegle #politics #southern #conservative #religion #coronavirus #transgender #lgbt #bisexual #pansexual #race #minority #confederate statues

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shittybundaskenyer · 5 years

Text

OC Interview: Avenia Trevelyan

I was tagged by the amazing @schoute, thank you so much! <3

The rules: Answer the following questions as your OC of choice.

I chose Avenia because I feel Delia gets all the attention with the memes :’)

For the sake of this thing please pretend that Avenia and Cullen are on their way towards Skyhold in the middle of winter and it’s set in the healing touches AU.

1. What’s your name?

*Glances at the Commander,*

“Um... Avenia. Just Avenia.”

2. Do you know why you are named that?

“Well, I have three brothers and they all have names beginning with an M: Maxwell, Marcus and Martyn. My mother wanted her only daughter to have something different.”

*She shrugs.*

“My father wanted to call me Maddalena.”

3. Are you single or taken?

“Everywhere I go disaster follows, so I might say we’re in a close relationship. But seriously, everybody I knew is dead.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

*She leans closer and whispers,*

“We should not talk about this near him,” *she points a finger behind her at the Commander.* “He’s very uncomfortable when the word MAGIC falls out of someone’s mouth.”

*Cullen jumps as she nearly shouts that one cursed word. He looks at her and frowns, disappointed.*

“Okay, okay. I’m a mage. This should be enough.”

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“I don’t know her.”

6. What’s your eye color?

“Come closer and tell me what you see. Is it red? No? Good. It will be very soon.”

7. How about your hair color?

“Don’t you have eyes?” *Sigh* “Red.”

8. Have any family members?

“Well I already told you I have parents and three brothers so yes. Quite a lot of family members. And don’t let me get started about my uncle Gregor, the black sheep of the family or my aunt who married an Orlesian marquis and now uses his sovereigns to buy her nugs tiny little dresses.”

9. Oh? How about any pets?

“Sadly the Circle didn’t allowed pets and after my escape I was too busy to have one. But I wanted to own a horse in all my life. My family is quite fond of horses, you know?”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

“Ah... The cold? Oh and Red Templars! Or Templars in general.”

*She looks at the Commander and he arches an eyebrow curiously.*

“Templars with one or two exceptions.”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“I like wine. Is drinking considered a hobby?”

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

*Looks at blood-stained skirt.*

“Uh I did but I didn’t want to!”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Does self defense count?”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“The Commander says I snore like a dragon. I hope he’s lying but being an actual dragon would be amazing.”

*The Commander smirks a little behind her.*

15. Name your worst habits?

“Accidentally setting people on fire. And touching my hair all the time.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“I’m traveling with him for two weeks now. “

*She points a finger at the Commander behind her.*

“He’s quite tall.”

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

“I had quite some adventures in the Circle, if you know what I mean.”

*She winks and the Commander lets out a loud sigh.*

“Bisexual.”

18. Do you go to school?

“Well, I did if the Circle counts but running from Templars don’t allow much time to study nowadays.”

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

“I’m an apostate. I have maybe two percent chance to live through the year. But maybe one day, maybe when the world changes.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Oh, definitely!” *She turns towards Cullen with a wide grin.* “He can’t take his eyes off of me.”

*Cullen groans.*

21. What are you most afraid of?

*She looks at the Commander, at his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She closes her eyes for a moment and exhales.*

“Um... spiders?”

22. What do you usually wear?

*Shrugs and opens her arms, looking down at herself.* “These rags. Oh and silk Orlesian panties.”

*The Commander’s cheeks turn into a lovely shade of dark pink. She smirks.*

23. What one food tempts you?

“We’ve been living on dried meat and salted fish for weeks. I could eat anything properly cooked.”

24. Am I annoying you?

“Not at all.” *She lowers her voice so the Commander can’t hear her.* “But I think he doesn’t like you. Don’t worry, he doesn’t like me either.”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

“Then we should send him to collect firewood.”

*Cullen frowns again and crosses his arms in front of his chest.* “I prefer keeping an eye on you all the time.”

“Okay, he’s right. When I wasn’t with him he almost died. Twice.”

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

“Uh, apostate?”

27. How many friends do you have?

*She turns around, stops for a moment to look at Cullen and then turns back.*

“I have many!” *She clears her throat.*

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Do you have some? Give me all of it, I’m starving!”

29. Favourite drink?

“Any Vint I can afford.”

30. What’s your favourite place?

“Ostwick’s Circle had a huge library. It was perfect for studying and doing other activities in the dimly lit corners behind the shelves.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

*Her eyes quickly flick at the Commander and back. Then again.*

“No, my type is definitely not blond, hazel eyed and starving for redemption.” *Coughs nervously.*

*Cullen’s ears turn even more pink.*

32. That was a stupid question…

“Yeah, please give me the next one!”

*Now she’s flushed, too and fans herself with her hand, despite the cold wind.*

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Once I fell into the ocean from a ship and I didn’t like it. So I guess swimming in a lake.”

*Cullen chuckles behind her.*

34. What’s your type?

“Type of what? Romantic interest? Well, it’s not him if you wonder. Definitely not him. Or anyone looking similar like him. You know what, next question!” *She points a finger behind her and looks down, face read as her hair.*

35. Any fetishes?

*Cullen coughs like he’s choking on his own saliva.*

“Are you serious?” *She sighs.* “I’m not answering this.”

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

“Does this forest looks like some fancy Orlesian castle? No. So camping outdoors it is.”

_____________

Tagging: @magpiesandmabari, @gingerbreton, @a-shakespearean-in-paris, @dickeybbqpit, @laurelsofhighever

#dragon age #da:i #cullen rutherford #avenia trevelyan #cullen x avenia #oc interview #all the memes #oc meme #my art #my ocs #healing touches au #Your Healing Touches #this was fun :D #it took me a whole week to answer every question #bc lack of time #but hey #i made some art too

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weirdalar · 6 years

Text

1. What is your name?

Alyr Nightmeld to some.

2. What is your real name?

Alar to others.

3. Do you know why you were called that?

It was my own choice. Ah’lin is no longer.

4. Are you single or taken?

I have three very wonderful, very amazing partners, all of whom I love dearly. I reconnected with someone very dear to me, too, after nearly two years.

5. Have any abilities or powers?

I step with the shadows and make peace with the earth.

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Wait until you find out I can shift into a panther, and have a working knowledge of arcane.

7. What’s your eye color?

Amber tinted.

8. How about your hair color?

Teal but more on the blue side.

9. Have you any family members?

Alar appears uncomfortable; as such, he chooses against answering.

10. Oh? What about pets?

A cat. Terribly endearing girl who’s fond of chasing mice and stealing my pillow.

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

People who don’t take ‘no’ as an answer.

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

I like to take long walks through my mechanics workshop to find the coffee machine. Otherwise, I love to read and to sleep.

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

Hurting and being hurt in this world is inevitable, but I try to do good if I am able to.

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

That is information that is best not divulged, despite that we both know the answer.

15. What kind of animal are you?

People compare me to the laziest cat they know.

16. Name your worst habits.

Work-a-holic by trade, unfortunately. Even if I am incredibly lazy.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

It’s very hard to look up to people when you’re the tallest person in the room.

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

I am the most painfully bisexual agender man you will ever meet.

19. Do you go to school?

I have never attended a single class or school in my life. I had two mentors when I was young for my druidism, but that was far too long ago.

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

I have a soft spot for children, but I don’t think I will ever have them of my own. Marriage, too...

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

I’m not sure if they count as, ah. Fan-groupies, but I have a few people within the neutral engineering circles who admire my work.

22. What are you most afraid of?

Not finding peace with myself.

23. What do you usually wear?

Looser clothing if I’m not dressed for work-- band tees, jeans. If I’m working, then my work uniform.

24. Do you love someone?

Yes, I do. I love my partners dearly, I love my friends.

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

Alar casts an eye of judgement.

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

This is fine.

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

Title II Destructive Device No, I’m better off now than I was even five years ago. I’m at peace. A wiser man than I said:

I appreciate the best But I'm settling for less

28. How many friends do you have?

Countless, but only because I don’t feel it necessary to count.

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

I prefer smaller pastries but I can get down with a pie.

30. Favorite drink?

I am overly fond of coffee.

31. What’s your favorite place?

There’s a small spot outside of Silvermoon City that’s hard to get to-- no I won’t show you where it’s at-- that is surrounded by trees. Within it is a small pond, a clearing, and the most beautiful spot for star gazing that I have ever been to.

32. Are you interested in someone?

I am interested in everyone and it’s unfortunate as hell.

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

Terribly impersonal of you to ask.

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

I’m not much for swimming these days, if we’re being very honest.

35. What’s your type?

People who treat me soft, who let me be weak with them.

36. Any fetishes?

Also terribly impersonal to ask. That’s between me and my partners.

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

Do people really ask these questions? Do they really conform to the silly comics terms? What, did you think I didn’t read those comics?

38. Camping or indoors?

Both, both are good. But I like me a pillow.

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

I’m almost interested in what other ridiculous things you could think to ask.

40. Now it’s over! Tag 3 people!

sure why not tagged by @redeemed-gunslinger gonna just slip this toward @leora-strauss @herasheroes @feathersandstripes @luminouslupine

#poor poor pitiful me #i dont usually answer things 'in character' when it comes to interview prompts but toninght was.... inneresting #thanks for the tag gabe!!! this one was fun #art

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spiritmaiden23 · 3 years

Text

something something question meme i picked up from old blog

tagged by: me tagging: whomst ever...

1. What is your name?

“Zelda! Just Zelda! … it’s a bit odd how I don’t have a last name, huh? It’s common where I’m from though certain islands do have people who use last names.”

2. What is your real name?

“… ah? Real name? Heh~? What do you mean by that? I’m still me after all, I’m still Zelda.”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“My father told that mother loved this name after reading it in a book and wanted to name me that once I was born. He respected her wishes and gave me that name. I can see why she loved it though, I feel pretty attached to this name myself. I don’t see that changing any time soon. Zelda… has a nice, friendly ring to it! Wouldn’t you say so?”

4. Are you single or taken?

“That answer should be clear, no? I’m single! I never really had the chance to even consider dating. I was always looking after Link and focusing on my studies when I lived in the skies. Then… I arrived to the surface and… hm, that doesn’t matter. Right now, I’m adjusting to life here and protecting the Triforce. I don’t mind being single because I feel satisfied enough with this.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

”Yes! I’m somewhat handing with using a sword! I may not be as good as Link or the other knights but I’d like to think I’m ok enough with sword play! My stamina is nearly endless and I can lift people like Link very easily! Aside from that? That’s pretty much it! None whatsoever. Huh? How am I protecting the power of the gods? … er… best to not think about that one too hard!”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“Huh? A what? Isn’t that a name? Didn’t I just say what my name was? Oh, never mind.”

7. What’s your eye color?

“Not a special color, it’s just blue! It’s a bit on the common side but it varies from island to island.”

8. How about your hair color?

“A total blondie hee hee! I don’t mind being called that it sounds pretty cute to me! Plus, it’s a warm enough color, how can I not like it? Father says that my mother had the same color… it kinda makes me wonder what his hair color was before it became all grey…”

9. Have you any family members?

“Father! My mother passed a long time ago and while there are other family members, I feel like my only family is father. And that’s ok!”

10. Oh? What about pets?

“Hmmm, I think? I’d consider Mia one but she’s more like my father’s remlit. She’s super sweet and very loving!♥ I can’t imagine her being anything otherwise!”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“Just one? That’s a bit hard because we have so many things we don’t like. I’ll give it shot and name at least one thing. Erm, gods, there’s a lot, this is harder than I thought it would be. I guess the number one thing that comes to mind are people who don’t believe in themselves and give up rather than trying their best. Everyone has the potential to do something. Just have faith in yourself. And things will turn out fine!”

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

“Tons!! Knitting is very relaxing! Not to brag but I can knit some nice sweaters! And I can’t wait once winter comes around because then it means I can finally bundle up with the heavier sweaters I don’t really have too much confidence in this one but I think I’m ok with cooking! I picked up a thing or two whenever I offered to make lunch for Link! It’s relaxing enough and I enjoy it whenever I can cook. Reading will always be my favorite activity! My nose is always in a book and it wouldn’t be farfetched to call me a bookworm. My friends already do, ahaha!! Let’s see… what else… oh! Flying, of course! There’s no better feeling then having your head high up in the clouds and looking down at the world below. I love the skies, I love it more than anything! Though I’ll always prefer to be on the earth looking up to the skies. I do have more but gosh, we’ll be here the whole day if I list all of them!”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“A few times, by accident that is! I would never want to hurt anyone intentionally. It’s something I can’t stomach very well just thinking about it. During my adventure down here, I had no choice but to run away from the monsters. I couldn’t hurt any one of them, not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. I was without a weapon, they’d capture me in an instant if I so much as glance at them. That’s where running comes in handy, hee hee!”

14. Ever….killed anyone before?

“… next question! By the gods that’s such a dreary question! Let’s change the subject, hm?”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“Ah? That was a pretty quick change, though I did ask to change the subject. A bird! I feel like a bird would be the sort of animal that represents me best!”

16. Name your worst habits.

“Hee hee.. well, it’s a little embarrassing to admit to any bad habits but some consider me to bit on the… stubborn side. Once my mind’s made up, it’s almost impossible for me to stop it. I like to see things through the very end, or at least try. Whenever I want to do something that’s a bit more on the risky side there have been people who would stop me. N-not that I’m reckless! I just… wanna protect people I care for. I’d do anything to keep them safe!”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Mmhmm!! Of course! Impa!! She was an amazing teacher throughout my journey, so wise and imparting a lot of helpful advice. When I first started out, I was a little naive. Now, thanks to her, I feel a bit more mature. Hmm… but considering my last answer, sometimes I do find myself wondering about that.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“That’s something I never really thought about before. I was too focused on so many things, I rarely gave any attention to romance. I don’t really know but maybe someday I might! And then, I can answer this question as honestly as I can!” (Demisexual for those wondering at home)

19. Do you go to school?

“I was in my last year! I don’t see myself going back anytime soon, however.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“Would you believe me if I said yes? Not right now, there’s too much for me to do to even consider dating let alone marriage! Who knows what the future will bring me. Having a family of my own though… it sounds nice! Comforting! And it makes me want to work extra hard to make these lands safer for the future generation!”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

“Hee hee!! That’s more Karane’s department than mine! She even gets a ton of love letters, it’s always so funny to tease her about this! On the other hand, I don’t think I had any fans, I can’t really imagine I did. See, I was as ordinary as you can get back then. Karane, is an amazing knight and super beautiful. How could she not have a fan club of her own?!”

22. What are you most afraid of?

“Losing my friends. Hurting any more people I care about. Whether or not certain decisions are for the good of others, it still doesn’t make it right or lessen the pain someone might go through when using them for your plans. I can’t do that. Not again. Not ever.”

23. What do you usually wear?

“I don’t mind pants but I prefer skirts and dresses! There’s no reason why aside from me liking how cute they make me feel! I love wearing bright, soft colors like pink or light blue! Colors that feel warm and refreshing to me, you know? Sometimes I do change things up a bit and wear darker colors. Ah! I also love wearing bracelets or necklaces, I don’t like going overboard with jewelry.”

24. Do you love someone?

“What a funny question, of course I do! Some might even say I’m too loving to everyone around me. And I guess myself too! There’s nothing wrong with self-love, be kind to yourself!!”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Eh? What…? What’s with this question?! That’s not very nice to ask you know.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“Huh… it isn’t? Whew, this is getting long, don’t you think?”

27. What class are you?(High class, middle class, low class)

“Middle class. Sheesh… high class? That’s something I don’t think will ever happen to me. Hopefully to my family ages from now. Oh, but I’m getting ahead of myself there hee hee!”

28. How many friends do you have?

“A ton? I can’t really give you a good enough answer for this one, or a certain number. Aside from that: a ton!”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“I love it! All the better if it’s pumpkin pie!”

30. Favorite drink?

“I like sweet things, mostly! Tea with cubes of sugar! Fruit juices! Of course, nothing beats water!”

31. What’s your favorite place?

“That’s a no brainer! Every inch of the surface, I adore! Wherever my feet takes me will always be my favorite place! With how big this place is, there’s no way I can just pick one spot and leave it at that. I love this land, all of it.”

32. Are you interested in someone~

“Hmmmm? Why~? Are you asking for some reason I don’t know about? Oh, don’t tell me! You’re interested in me?! …Ha, I’m kidding of course! There’s no one that comes to mind.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“Hey, hey, hey!! This question is not very appropriate to ask! Do you know how rude it is to ask someone this?! It’s too personal for many and they don’t owe you an answer to this one! Much like how I don’t owe you an answer! Hmph!!”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“I’d like to say lake, I’ve seen a lot around here and on Skyloft. I haven’t seen the ocean yet, I want to! Maybe I’ll like the ocean better than the lake!”

35. What’s your type?

“My type? That’s tricky. Hm… persistent kind of people? I think…? What I’m trying to say here is that I like people who have a lot of courage! Believing that everything will be alright in the end! I think…”

36. Any fetishes?

“… moving on…”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“Didn’t you listen to a word I said? Do I have to give you another lecture?! Do you actually enjoy getting scolded by people?! Geez, you remind me a little too much of another certain someone who doesn’t listen to my scoldings.��

38. Camping or indoors?

“I don’t want to answer after your last questions but to make things end quick: both.”

39. Are you wanting the quiz to end?

“Yes!! Hmph!!”

40. Now it’s over! Tag five people: take it... pls..

#this bitch is 39 questions i can't just put this big ass post on dash #something ic to get warmed up for later writings ;v;#dash games.#about.#ic.#god... writing zel is fun as always.... love this funk hylian....

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theartone · 6 years

Text

A Study in Miscommunication - Chapter 7

<<Chapter 1 <Chapter 6

----John's POV----

I couldn't remember the last time I was this happy. I was giddy. It was ridiculous and amazing.

As we drove on, crawling through the endless London traffic I reigned myself in, bit by bit. I should be irritated that he snatched my phone from me instead of asking for it; he came close to picking it straight out of my pocket. He probably would've if I hadn't moved first.

I wondered if I should ask my other questions: What am I doing here? What do you want me to do at this crime scene? Am I even allowed to do this? Why me?

That would probably end poorly so I kept my mouth shut. If Sherlock hadn't thought of those things (especially the last one) I shouldn't encourage it. Besides, I'll probably do something else mortifying.

I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable but I ended up settling closer to him. I could feel the body heat radiating from his leg. I wanted to shift away but I knew if I did it'd look like he made me uncomfortable and I wanted him to like me. The fact that he did make me uncomfortable really didn't help. If he was as good at reading people as he said he'd read why I felt uncomfortable and that would be... uncomfortable.

Recognizing that my thought process was devolving I spent the rest of the trip thinking about surgical procedures and Grandma Watson.

----Sherlock's POV----

I managed to enjoy the silence for two blocks before John shifted and my mind came back on. I wanted to snap at him for interrupting me but his posture wasn't relaxed. That was surprising. He should be basking in the glow of... friendship?

We were friends now, right?

Should I introduce him as my friend to the officers? No, no that wouldn't work. They'd make a big deal of me having friends and that would be weird to John and while John already knew I was weird but there was only so much one person would take before it was too much and I became freakish.

Assistant? But that would imply that we weren't friends... that he was below me. I caught a mental image of John below me and cut off a growl.

I took a deep breath to calm my thoughts and realized my nasal passages were clogging.

That was bad.

Really bad.

Harry Watson may not be a drug addict but alcoholism was close enough for most people. I cursed my weakness. Sure, I had just gotten Lestrade (and therefore my brother) off my back but I shouldn't have pickpocketed that passerby. Or taken that little detour after hanging up with Mrs Hudson.

Why was I always so impulsive?!

On the same note, why did John bring out such strong reactions in me and my thoughts? A train of thought was running through all the different ways to put John's dirty mind to the test instead of being disgusted at the idea of touching another person. The heat from his leg made me crave pressing my leg against his and capturing it.

WHY?

It wasn't the drugs. At least, not entirely. I was clean last night and that was the first time I'd masturbated to porn since I was a teenager. Usually, if I brought it up the expressions of boredom killed my libido. And it had been an age since I'd imagined anything outside of that half-sleep state when waking up.

John was different.

John was perfect.

No, no one was perfect. It had to be an act. He clearly lusted for me. He was probably just making a play to get in my bed.

Then why the outburst in front of Mrs Hudson?

John clearly wasn't thinking long term.

What was his angle?

I started mentally listing to see what I missed: lonely, unhappy, unfulfilled, wants to be useful, wants to work, trained doctor, army medic, adrenaline addiction, bisexual (? is that even a thing? is he just closeted? focus!) bored, likes routines, therapist, trust issues, smart-ish, anger issues, conscience, polite, manners, Mike Stamford, blog-

Blog!

He wrote about my case right before Lestrade came to me. Was that before or after Lestrade forwarded me information? John's blog didn't have timestamps for the entries-

Therapist!

The only information available was "trust issues." It ensured that I looked into him more, that I'd see the blog entry, that I'd see him.

Coincidences?

No.

I'd dismissed it thinking it was all Mycroft and after dismissing John's association with him I didn't think of other possibilities. Stupid!

Of course, it didn't mean that Mycroft didn't set the whole thing up. But, in the texts, he seemed eager to talk to John. And Anthea never even hinted at anything like with the computer.

I looked at John out of the side of my eye; he seemed to be reciting a recipe. Flour, eggs... Oh, fighting an erection. Obvious. Probably linked to a grandparent or something.

Was it?

Was John just acting?

The anonymous commenter... was John a fan?

The real question was: Was John a murderer?

And what would I do if he was?

----John's POV----

Sherlock directed the taxi to pull along the outermost police vehicle and hopped out. He left the door open and I slid across his seat rather than try to fight with my cane in order to get out the door on my side, closing the door behind me. Sherlock started walking and I tried to keep up.

"Did I get anything wrong?"

I swallowed the questions I realized I should have asked, 'What the hell am I doing here?' chief among them, and answered.

"Spot on then. I didn't expect to be right about everything." Sherlock sounded almost disappointed.

I resisted smiling, "Harry is short for Harriet."

Sherlock stopped on the spot and I took a few steps past him expecting him to catch up quickly.

"Harry is your sister."

I was forced to stop since we were within hearing range of the pc. "What am I supposed to be doing here?" I needed direction.

"SISTER." Sherlock spat, angrily.

"No, seriously." I implored. This was an actual crime scene. Suddenly it was all real and I was feeling very uncomfortable. How could I be of use here? I was about to make a tremendous fool of myself. "What am I doing here?"

"There's always something," Sherlock grumbled and walked straight to the blue and white tape, ignoring me completely.

---- Sherlock's POV ----

I directed the cab to stop as close to the scene as he could. John's discomfort was shifting from uncomfortable around me to uncomfortable with the surroundings. That would be useful. But, could be bad too. I need to distract him. "Did I get anything wrong?" Duel purpose of questioning my lead suspect and sating some curiosity.

The cab drove away without asking for payment. I frowned internally but John didn't seem to notice.

"Harry and me don't get on, never have."

Sibling rivalry. Probably older then. Boring.

"Clara and Harry split up, three months ago. They're getting a divorce."

Marriage has been on the rocks quite some time then. Both parties must have been more reluctant to admit the failure because of... children? No. The couple wanted kids but never had any-

"Harry is a drinker," John admitted reluctantly.

Family trait. How tedious.

"Spot on then." And boring. "I didn't expect to be right about everything." Boring, boring, boring!

"Harry is short for Harriet."

Oh!

Well, that's interesting.

They didn't want to admit the failing because they didn't want to add to the statistics. Possibly active in the community. The stress of unconventional sexuality and probable harassment lead to drinking. High paying job but constantly passed over for promotions, discrimination. Traditional family values, factoring John's tone when he said Harriet... John's denial of Mrs Hudson's insinuations...

Say something!

"Harry is your sister." Is that your problem with her? That she's gay? It isn't a sibling rivalry at all? No, that's not it...

"Look, what exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" John tried to change the subject.

"Sister!" I hissed and resumed my stride.

John reiterated his question.

I needed John's honest reactions so I didn't answer him.

"There's always something," I muttered as I factored this new information into John's profile. She probably came out early, while still at school. It would have been the 80's... I've been going about this all wrong. Stupid!

Sally was watching the line. I needed her to speak first, she didn't look happy to see me. But that was normal. Her first words would set the tone of the interaction. I was hoping she had forgiven me but each step seemed to cloud her face. She was so smart normally, her choice in men was holding her career back more than I ever did.

Please be friendly, please have forgiven me, we were friends once. C'mon Sally. Please. I'm already weird enough...

"Hullo, Freak!"

Fantastic.

First crime scene back and: I'm high, may have brought the murder as my assistant, if John isn't the murderer he's interesting and will possibly be my new flatmate, he's the only person who I've even considered in any case and my mind is stuck in a sex-loop on a person who has problems with his own sexuality. And probably mine.

And I'm being harassed by the only person who's ever been pleasant to me on Lestrade's team who has... yes, hooked up with Anderson. Again.

If I stay professional maybe she will too? "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"Why?"

Be nice, be nice, be nice. "I was invited." Be nice...

"Why?"

Be polite, be polite, it's your own fault I reminded myself, be polite. "I think he wants me to take a look."

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?"

I let myself under the tape. "Always, Sally." Since we're not going to be civil I can at least use this to my advantage. I took a deep sniff. "I know you didn't make it home last night."

John moved closer before I was done with Sally and my hand went to the tape. John was going to come, I wanted to see his reactions, I needed an assistant and John needed a job. There was no reason John shouldn't come.

"Ah-ah-ah." She moved to stop John. "Who's this?"

That's a very good question, Sally.

Chapter 8>

#moved from ao3 #asim #a study in miscommunication #preslash johnlock #sherlock fanfic #finished story #updating as i edit #chapter 7

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