#dick finding tomatoes fascinating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gallusrostromegalus · 3 years

Note

If you ever want to do a "Top 10 home gardening tomato cultivars" segment, I'm here for it. (My folks mostly plant Early Girls, but they have a ridiculously short growing season up there. I grow Sweet 100s, because they taste good enough and I gave up on growing anything other than cherries due to bastard squirrels who like to take exactly one bite out of larger tomatoes.)

IT IS NOW TIME TO INFO DUMP

CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED

Ok so the actual thing with tomatoes is there are- checks google- about 10,000 tomato cultivars out there and every single one of them is different, so you should tailor your tomato breeds to what you actually want to do with them. 10K is a lot a breeds to break down, but fortunately, there are ways to Do That:

1. Determinate vs. Indeterminate

Determinate tomatoes grow to a genetically predetermined size and start fruiting. Pros: Tends to have a short time between planting and fruiting, don’t get bigger than a certain size if you only have so much space. Cons: Once they’re done fruiting, that’s it. you really only get the one crop out of them. Also tend to have sad, watered-down flavor.

Indeterminate tomatoes grow as big as the space will let them, and start fruting when they get around to it. Pros: Maximum Plant for minimum investment, which can be like 10x as big as a determinate plant. Will KEEP fruiting until it gets too cold, so if you can get it in a pot you can move inside you could potentially still be harvesting tomatoes after thanksgiving like my MIL was this year. If you live somewhere warm like SoCal or AZ, you could keep it alive all year. Cons: MUCH longer time between planting and fruiting. Indeterminate tomates Get there when they get there. Also may be more prone to disease and pests than the more-modified determinate plants.

There are determinate and indeterminate tomatoes in all 5 of the Greater Tomato Archetypes. Speaking of:

2. The 5 Tomato Archetypes

I’m so good at segues!

So tomatoes come in 5 basic types, each which is generally better for something culinary than the others. You CAN substitute different types of tomato but your food generally doesn’t come out as good.

1. Cherry: Cherry tomatoes produce fruits that are about the size of cherries. Some people put Grape and Saladette tomatoes in here but they are WRONG, both of those belong in the “Round/All-Purpose” group because Cherry tomatoes specifically have thinner skins, more soluable pectin, and more dissolved glutemates, which means they cook VERY differently. Cherry tomatoes also produce a shitload of fruits at a time and might be some of the heaviest producers. Tend to be more heat-tolerant. Good For: Fresh tomato sauces (i.e. takes less than 20 minutes to make), salads, snacking on directly off the vine like you are a small tarsier discovering a hidden bounty of fruit.

Top reccomendations are: -Indigo Cherry or Dwarf Black Krim if you can find it. I always reccomend dark-pigmented tomatoes as I find they have better flavor, pest resistence and UV tolerance. Taste fruity but not over-sweet and Very Tomato-y. -Sweet 100/Super-Sweet 100/Sweet Millions: All varietals of the same mass-producing Cherry Tomato. Makes absolute buckets of Tomatoes, sweeter and more fruity than the Indigo cherry, good disease resistence and long growing season.

2. Paste: Paste tomatoes are thin-skinned, meaty and soft tomatoes that... well, they make good tomato paste, the basis for all long-cooking tomato sauces and recipies. They tend to be kind of Oblong and sometimes grow in fun extras like lil tomato “dicks” or weird cthulian shapes, but this doesn’t effect the flavor or nutrition There’s a shitload of great varietals in this category, I’ve yet to hear of a Bad Paste Tomato, just Less Excellent ones. Good For: Long-cooking Tomato-based dishes like: Bolognese, chili, ketchup, BBQ etc. Also can and freeze well.

Top Reccomendations are: -Amish Paste: MEATY, and well-suited for growing in a variety of conditions. Paste is smooth and velvety. Good for Chili, BBQ and Bolognese. -Opalka tomato: Russian Tomato, little more on the acidic side, grows well in places prone to surprise late frosts. Paste isn’t as smooth but very thick. makes great ketchup. -San Marzano: THE tomato for making Marinara Sauce (also does good bolognese). Sweeter and lighter, with a slightly runnier paste that clings well to pasta. cans and freezes excellently, does well in places with HOT summers.

3. Beef: Beef tomatoes are BIG motherfuckers that kind of take a long time to grow but are very rewarding. Beef tomatoes are firm, have a very solid meat and are best eaten raw, typically sliced onto a sandwich or seared under a broiler for a NZ Mousetrap. Not only are the fruits big but so are the Plants, so they take a long time to reach maturity and the fruit takes FOREVER to ripen but if you like a sandwich, they can’t be beat. Also they look hella impressive on instagram. They also tend to be more prone to Blossom End Rot (which is just a calcium deficiency- just make sure to fertilize with some eggshells and don’t over-water them), and despite the size, don’t tolerate cold well. Good for: Slicing on sandwiches, eating raw like you’re biting into the still-beating heart of your nemesis and enjoying that sweet, sweet revenge, searing quickly under a broiler or putting on a Kabob.

Top Reccomendations Are: -Brandywine: Hefty, great fresh tomato flavor, and PINK. -Big Zac: Goddamn Massive Tomato. A Real Heckin’ Chonker. meatier flavor and lots of firm flesh with few seeds. -Beefmaster: One problem with Beef tomatoes is that a lot of them are heirloom varietals that aren’t as widely available. Of the ones that are easy to get your hands on, Beefmaster is the best, but it lacks the flavor punch of Brandywine or Big Zac, but it’s not a BAD tomato.

4. Round/Early/All-Purpose: The Workhorse of Tomatoes, the Round Tomato does it all- sauces, salsa, sandwiches, salads, and snacks. But it doesn’t do them quite as well as the other, more specialized tomatoes. Also, some of these tomatoes have been Over-Worked and bred to fruit early and transport well, at the expense of it’s Flavor. I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU, EARLY GIRL AND BETTER BOY, YOU FLAVORLESS TENNIS BALLS, YOU INSULTS TO THE MIGHTY HOUSE OF NIGHTSHADES. Love yourself, don’t get Early Girl or Better Boy. If your season is too short for anything but the earliest of tomatoes, it may be better to grow Something Else than put all that effort in for Disappointment. That said, there are many types of Round/All-Purpose tomatoes that haven’t been overbred into corporate blandness, and I can reccomend them in good concisence if you’re not totally sure what you want to do with your tomatoes: Good For: Indecisive people, people just learning how to grow plants, using one plant for a variety of purposes, people who are not yet prepared to enter the world of Tomato Opinions. Top reccomendations are: -If you really must have an early-fruiting tomato, the Wayahead is an heirloom that people swear comes in early with good size, flavor and firm structure. I have not personally tied this varietal but people I trust like it. -Black Krim: GOD-TIER TOMATO. It’s got it all- flavor, high yields, firm structure, pest and disease resistence, fucking purple stripes. Cans Well, Freezes well, seeds well and breeds true. Fuck yes. Other tomatoes fucking WISH they had what this Hot Bitch has. -Invincible is a damn-hard-to-kill tomato that isn’t very large but fruits reliably and preforms well all around. it also ripens 3 fruits at a time so you’re not constantly overburdened with Tomato. Probably my top pick for beginners that need an Emotional Support Crop.

5. Fun: This is not, strictly speaking, a traditional type of tomato, but I feel like it’s an important category for people who want to do something different or really enjoy all Tomatoes have to offer. Good For: Trying new things, taunting the garden gods with my hubris, showing off at the garden FB group, discovering new flavors of plant.

Top Reccomendations: -Mr. Stripey: it has a goofy name, it’s yellow-and-pink striped, and it smells and tastes almost exactly like pineapple, but it doesn’t try to digest you back. I love it. -Japanese Truffle: Dark Brown tomato that looks like someone tried to make ferro rochers at home and bungled it, and has a LONG maturation time, BUT it’s got a chocolately flavor and even at maturity has green insides which give it this. Lightness? it’s hard to describe but it’s a fascinating flavor. The plant also is more branched and elegant than most tomatoes. Very different, very cool. -I have not personally tried Cherokee Purple but I have heard good things about it. We’ll see how it does in the garden this year. -Tomatillos and Ground Cherries: Not actually tomatoes, but closely related. Neat herbaceous sort of flavor, like thyme but to the left. Also comes in a fun Organic wrapping paper. -Ketchup ‘n’ Fries: a Sweet 100 tomato top grafted onto Kennebec Potato rootstock, so it grows both tomato AND potato! Grafting was invented prbably about a week after the concept of agriculture was, and consists of taking two or more closely related plants and taping a cutting of oone into a hole in the other until the plants heal together. Like that one gorilla-dude from Umbrella academy, but without the angst. You can get them pre-made or attempt to make them at home if you’re feeling adventurous and are OK with potentially killing a bunch of starts while you learn.

Good Luck and Happy Gardening!

#Long post #tomatoes #the garden of earthly HOA violations #njelruch

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wildflowertips · 3 years

Note

Hi! I was curious if you had anymore Kuroko fic recommendations? Thank you! 🥺💗

hey! 🥺 i do have more kuroko fanfic recs. i didnt know what type of kuroko ship you wanted, so here are a few from some kuroko ships <3:

Kagakuro Recommendations

the flower that blooms in adversity by aotetsu

When Kagami falls for Kuroko Tetsuya, a famous prostitute from the red light district, he manages to find a whole lot of trouble and a person worth it all.

this fic deserves more love and attention. kagami love for kuroko absolutely made me sob

Brothers in Woo by buttwade

in which Himuro jokingly offers to help Kagami win Kuroko over and the joke's on him

kagami is drunk & himuro cracks jokes. this fic is funny. jealous!kuroko

Beastly call by TCon

"You mean," Kuroko started. "You'd be my Heat Partner?" He didn't expect Kagami to explode into a myriad of different shades of red more impressive than his own hair. "Y — yeah tha's what I'm sayin'!" for some reasons he lapsed into english with an odd accent. KagaKuro Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics & Sex Pistols AU - Fusion

Lots of smut in the beginning. there’s crime, suspense, and i read this fic like 5 times.

Stamina Training by tnsxbunny

As the weakest member in the team, Kuroko stays back after basketball practice to train on his stamina. Kagami watches from afar and decides to show Kuroko what real stamina training is.

SMUT. SUCH GOOD SMUT. thank u

The advantage of being Kuroko by heartfilledteddybear

mayuzumi hits on Kuroko & Kagami gets jealous 🥵

Akakuro Recommendations

Forget me not flowers in our hair by miniaturepsycho

When Kagami is captured by a beast Kuroko doesn't think twice and bargains to take the red head's position instead but it seems that there is more to this castle than meets the eye, and what has it have to do with forget me not's?? Basically a beauty and the beast AU that I decided to do after seeing the live action (which I totally did not cry at, not at all!!) COMPLETE

Contains Aokaga. Akashi as beast & kuroko as belle. So good 🥺

All I ask by TsuruKuni

"It's none of your business." "Tell me, Aomine. How can it be none of my business when you're throwing away the only person I've ever wanted?"

THIS FIC MADE ME SOB AT 3 AM. I highly recommend listening to ‘All I ask’ by Adele. I promise you will cry. Aokuro & Akakuro.

Bridezilla by DancingMarshmallows

Weddings are stressful... try helping people plan them. With two months to get everything together, a bridezilla and her bitch of a maid of honor, and finding love at the worst time, Kuroko would be lucky if he makes it out alive.

CEO!Akashi & WEDDING PLANNER!kuroko. you will not regret reading this one.

That Ridiculously Long Dance by Harmonia_Silverberg

Aomine, Kise, and Kagami never learn, do they? But apparently their "joke" works in Akashi and Kuroko's favor this time.

literally one of my all time favorite akakuro fanfic

What Would Chihiro Do by anewtinystory

Akashi is dating Kuroko, whose two brothers are very protective of him.[Based on a Tumblr anon's prompt: Nijimura and Mayuzumi are Kuroko's brothers; while Nijimura approves of Akashi, Mayuzumi feels the opposite]

slight smut. protective bros. i love it sm.

Aokuro Recommendations

Traded Mistakes by Acetate, Chrystie, exuberant_imperfection, kate882, luckypen

For the prompt: Aomine having an accident and losing his memory so all he remembers is being best friends with Tetsu and he doesn’t understand how that could stop.

Angst, oh the angst 😫😭.

Third time’s a charm (or maybe fourth) by LajtHane

Aomine really didn't mean to crash into him at Quidditch practice.

HOGWARTS AU. if that doesn’t temp you, idk what will. My fav Aokuro fic.

Maybe a touch of your hand by skinandbones

[Written for AoKuroWeek 2015]: Aomine moves into a new apartment and befriends a ghost boy.

no bc this fic made me cry too. pls read it 🎶ifwehad5moreminutes🎶

The Boyfriend Jersey by exuberant_imperfection, kate882

Kuroko, in a half-asleep mistake, ends up wearing Aomine's jersey to school.

THIS FIC IS CUTE SUCH DORKS

Hey, Come Here Often? by imabignerd

In which Momoi holds his magazines hostage, Aomine hates everything and everyone, and Kuroko is politely bewildered.

Aomine crushes on the lifeguard!Kuroko & Momoi is a little shit about it 😌🤍

Midokuro Recommendations

It’s Always your Fault! by warsandwich

Kuroko and Midorima are secretly dating, but Takao finds out their secret. De-anon from the anon meme.

Short, sweet, & funny 😌.

Partnership by Fayah

Their partnership starts in English class, but like everything else in their lives, turns into a matter of basketball.

Midorima really cares for Kuroko 🥺

Midokuro Ficlet by pandacchii

based off of imagineyourotp blog post: "Imagine your otp confessing while they were half asleep" Pairing: Midorima/Kuroko

short story but it’s really cute ☺️

An Unexpected Alignment by cinnaelle

Midorima Shintarou does not expect such a reoccurring encounter. But the wheels of fate are turning and Akashi moves his shogi piece.

well-written i love it sm. deserves more praise

The Way You Come Undone by oshare_banchou

"Midorima Shintarou is completely silent during sex. And Kuroko, who is both fascinated and frustrated by this discovery, wonders just how much it would take to make him come undone." - Kuroko/Midorima, in that order

do i need to say more? 😫

Kikuro Recommendations

Careless Whisper by DarkWoods

When Kuroko is dared to come up with some dirty talk, no one expects him to be good at it. Certainly not Kise.

my favorite kikuro fanfic. flustered!kise & tease!kuroko

如果的事 (If) by stormterror

People fall in love in many different manners. Love feels like many different things to many people, but Kise Ryouta thinks there's nothing that quite beats the feeling of being in love with Kuroko Tetsuya. [kise/kuroko]

SO GOOD I CRIED I SMILED SO HARD. pls kikuro deserves the world

Wires, Connecting by Bakagami

It's like being blind but not, like touching air, grasping at straws, voices dissipating and reverberating.

This story is locked so you need to login into ao3 to read it. PHONE SEX & DIRTY TALK 🥵

He Promised by imabignerd

Kise promised he'd smile for Kuroko the whole way through, all the way to the end.

Zombie apocalypse AU. Death. sobbing violently.

It’s a Small World by SilentSilhouette

Kise tries to find his soulmate through social media. Soulmate AU where a picture of your soulmate is tweeted to you on your sixteenth birthday.

This one made me crackle & laugh😂😂

Murakuro Recommendations

No Such Thing as Too Much Vanilla by plumtrees

Kuroko and Murasakibara have baking days. What do you mean it isn't canon?

baking!boyfriends & fluff 😌😉

Vanilla Cream by yoimrei

Murasakibara eats Kurokos ass after something Ahomine says which sparks his jealousy.

here me out first, the ass eating in this is *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏽🤌🏽

Philia by DarkWoods

That time Murasakibara and Kuroko started kinda-sorta fake dating, and kinda-sorta never bothered to break up.

Still going & i love this writer sm. i read all their stories 😙✌🏽

Lavender Secrets by SailorHikarinoMu

Kuroko was the one to bring out his true love for basketball, which had been hidden from prying eyes since the beginning. It was one of those things he was unsure whether he should feel grateful for, but all the same, it did mean something. What this 'something' was, exactly? Murasakibara did not know. Not yet.

FLUFF AAA FLUFF

Rainy by overdose

Kuroko listened to the rain pouring, and more importantly, Murasakibara's steady breathing.

smut. couch sex. size difference. 🥴

BONUS

Hanamiya Makoto/Kuroko Tetsuya

Scotomas by Darkenedcrystal

After the game against Jabberwock, Kagami goes overseas and Kuroko finds himself without a light. A slightly angsty, rather light-hearted story about what happens to Kuroko after Kagami leaves. Features teens finding their way around life, Seirin without a light, the Generation of Miracles being a family, the teens finding love and appreciating the heartbreaks. Kuroko tries to find his own style without a light, and stumbles into the darkness that is Hanamiya Makoto instead. Extra chapter added!

love this fic so much. downside: akashi is kinda a dick

Of Unlikely Friendships, Sneaky Bets, Shogi and Sake by itsthechocopuff

Imayoshi had introduced his two favourite kouhai to each other as an experiment. He did not predict they'd get along so well, both being shadows, but they did, and they worked, oddly enough. Hanamiya brought out the worst in Kuroko, while Kuroko brought out the the best in the other; and they both caused heartattacks to unsuspecting teammates who could not believe their darling shadow was not as innocent as he seemed.

you wont regret reading this one omg

Haizaki Shougo/Kuroko Tetsuya

A Taste That Lingers by therealmoyashi

I couldn't say anything, and that was alright because he didn't want an answer. I'll never forget the way that tasted. Yeah, I thought, he ruined me.

i cried reading this for the first time. out of character kuroko

By the Tomatoes by Wayfarer_Rye

It starts with a blue-grey t-shirt that says "Nothing but Net".

Haizaki wants to try again.

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obeiii-mee · 4 years

Note

Hi there! If its okay, could i ask for headcannons of the brothers finding out MC is an Artist? Something like, finding there sketchbook or napkins w doodles on them jfjdjs Or maybe they catch MC glancing at them alot while trying to draw them? hfjd Ty!! Your writing is really good~

Of course it’s OK! I’ve always liked the idea of MC having a really interesting hobby and teaching the brothers about it. I feel like all the brothers would be very supportive of them, even if they all had various reactions to their hobby but I really love writing wholesome moments like that. Sorry this took longer to come out, I made them really long to make up for it!

Also thank you. Your compliment means a lot :)

————————————-

The Brothers’ reactions to MC being an artist:

Lucifer:

-Well if you’re going to glance at him every two minutes, he’s bound to notice

-I mean, you’re pretty damn obvious

-Lucifer got pretty used to you whipping out your sketchbook whenever you could

-So for you to start doodling in his office while he worked wasn’t exactly unheard of

-He caught you staring at him before looking back down at your drawing, continuing your series of furious scribbles

-Now you piqued his interest

-“You seem very focused there love. What are you drawing?”

-Scared the crap out of you because he rarely ever talks when he’s working

-You were reluctant to show him but Lucifer has his insisting face on

-When you passed him the sketchbook, he momentarily froze

-Your drawing was so detailed and full of emotion, capturing him slumped over his desk, exhausted but determined to finish the work he’s been assigned

-He was so surprised and stunned, for a second, he forgot to breathe

-“It’s not exactly one of my best drawings yet but-“

-“You never fail to impress me MC.”

-He suspected you were drawing him but he wasn’t expecting this much effort to be put into it

-He would definitely keep all your drawings of him

-Loves all your work but secretly adores your sketches of him best

-Lucifer would occasionally look over your shoulder while you sketch, taking a peek at what you’re drawing and smile to himself

-He’s never felt this much pride for someone else before

Mammon:

-Was pissed you would rather spend time with an object rather than him

-It annoyed him at first because he couldn’t tell if you were listening to him or not while you had your nose stuck in your sketchbook

-Basically, he was jealous of a sketchbook

-You can’t do that Mammon, that’s Levi’s thing

-So one day he decided to see what the fuck was so great about that giant notebook you always have with you

-He turned your entire room upside down searching for the damn thing before finding it

-He flipped through it and I’m sure the entire House of Lamentation could hear his gasp

-You drew him for pages and pages in all sorts of positions and styles and he was a flustered tomato going through them

-You willingly drew him? The scum of a demon who could never do anything right unless it involved money? You put your time and effort into these sketches and doodles despite him being condescending and a dick at times?

-Excuse me but this man is already head over heels in love with you, you can’t keep giving him reasons to fall for you

-He was so engrossed into your work that he didn’t notice you behind him

-“Mammon why is there a mess in my room-“

-“HOLY SHI-AHHH!!!”

-Too embarrassed to even think of an excuse for going through your shit

-“Ah those...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drawn you without your permission Mammon-“

-“Are ya kiddin’ me? MC, I feel insulted that you didn’t tell me about this sooner. Can...Can I keep some of ‘em??”

-Now he insists that you draw him as often as possible and would even pose for you (he loves the attention let’s be real)

-He wants to see all of your drawings and will endlessly support you

-Thought about using your skill as a way to make money because art can be very expensive

-But in the end, he dropped the idea

-Why would he sell something so precious to him??

Levi:

-He probably has a sketchbook too

-You guys draw Ruri-chan together in your own styles

-Levi always insists that you’re much better at drawing than him tho

-Your talent makes him a little jealous but at the same time he’s fascinated

-Was so surprised when he found out you were into sketching

-Levi was even more surprised when you showed him all the drawings you’ve worked on for your favourite anime and video game characters

-OK but how come you’re so perfect? Not only are you a lovely person that is willing to watch anime with him without insulting his opinions but you can draw? W...h...a...t...?

-He requests several sketches of ‘The Tale of the Seven Lords’ characters and will actually tape them to his wall

-Some of them are right on his Ruri-chan shelf

-“Hey normie, do you...do you mind teaching me how to draw? I want to learn.”

-Is 100% determined to learn how to properly sketch from you

-You started drawing him as well, usually while he games

-You better stop, he’ll have a nosebleed if you keep being so nice to him!

-Draw him as an anime character and he will start fangirling

-“Phew. OK I’m finished.”

-“What did you draw?”

-“Hentai.”

-“This. Is. A. Masterpiece.”

-Will proudly show your work to his brothers (usually the same drawing more than five times)

-What did an otaku like him do to deserve you??

Satan:

-He found out you were an artist fairly quickly

-I meant he found tissues with doodles you left behind everywhere

-He kept all of them

-It was so refreshing for him to see you so invested in your drawings the same way he is in his reading

-You’re still under the impression you’re being sneaky by drawing him while he has his nose in his books

-You ended up finally gathering enough courage to show him one of your portraits of him

-He had a reaction similar to Lucifer’s really

-Praise!

-He made your drawing into a bookmark

-Idk how but he did

-You leave him a few doodles of you and him being all lovey dovey and he absolutely adores them

-Will lose his marbles if anyone says anything remotely negative about your style or talent

-Draw him fluffy animals pls he will literally have them framed and fixed up in his room

-Also if you draw any of his brothers (specifically Lucifer let’s be real) in a silly way he will actually start snorting with laughter

-You sketch him pretty damn often and he can’t really complain

-It’s really peaceful when you two are in the library and you’re working on your doodling while he reads aloud to you

-Buys you equipment like pens and pencils and even sketchbooks when he knows you’re running out

-He’s really delighted when you come over to show him your drawings

-Once he caught you staring at a cat as you started sketching it

-He actually didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much

Asmo:

-Noisy little fucker that he is and in need of drama, he looked through your sketchbook

-Thought it was a diary at first but nope

-Imagine his surprise when he found pages upon pages of drawings of his brothers and him

-Except his weren’t really a surprise

-He’s gorgeous of course you would want to draw him

-But oh my God, do you realise how much he values art??

-I know he looks as if he only thinks about sex but he definitely has a thing for creativity and art like painting and photography

-“MC darliiiing~? Why didn’t you tell me you can draw?”

-He actually shrieks at how well you’ve captured his beauty

-He insists that they look like actual pictures of him

-Takes several pictures of all of them and posts them on DevilGram

-A bit salty when you drawing anything else but him

-However, he can’t deny that you’re one of the most talented individuals he ever met

-He comes up to you every day and lractically begs you to draw him

-One time you came in your room to find him naked and asking you to draw him

-Is actually kinda good at drawing himself

-Specifically people

-He has enough experience exploring the human body so he surprisingly enough, knows a thing or two when it comes to body proportions

-“MC draw me like one of your french girls~”

-I’m sorry I had to do that

-He also likes the attention he’s getting when he poses for you

-He may think he’s the most beautiful being in all three realms but he definitely thinks you’re the second

-So he often offers to draw you too

-He likes having cozy chats with you while you draw

Beel:

-You left your sketchbook behind in the kitchen with him

-Mammon needed your assistance to get down from where Lucifer hanged him after one of his failed money schemes

-He knocked a glass of milk nearby it and had a panic attack for a minute

-Legitimately thought he ruined the whole thing

-Was actually about ready to cry because he knew how important your sketchbook was to you

-Looked through it just to make sure there were no splotches or anything

-To say he was relieved when he realised it was fine would be an understatement

-He was kinda drawn to your sketches, most of them carefully drawn and expressive, even some of the ones you scribbled out

-One specific drawing caught his eye though

-You drew him and Belphie together, with his twin brother’s head resting on his shoulder while Beel ate

-He was mesmerised by your talent and by your thoughtfulness

-Beel felt bad about it but he kept looking through your sketches, enchanted by everything in it

-You drew him and his brothers several times

-It’s safe to say the discovery of your drawings brightened his day

-Gave back your sketchbook later

-He apologised for going through it without your permission more than he needed to

-You had to accept his apology because he looked like a kicked puppy

-Feels very honoured whenever you let him look at your work

-Is more than happy to pose for you!

-But that might be a bit of a problem seeing as he tends to move around a lot

-“Whoa, that looks just like me! The food I’m eating looks really realistic too...which is making me hungry. Let’s go to Hell’s Kitchen, you can finish this there!”

-Supportive bean

-You gave him a family sketch of him and all of his brothers once

-Normally, he only likes gifts he can eat

-But he treasures that drawing more than food at times

-“This...this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me! Thank you MC! But uh, someone’s missing in this drawing.”

-“Ah shit, who did I miss?”

-“You.”

-If anything ever happens to Beel or his happiness I swear to Lord Diavolo-

Belphie:

-OK but you left your notebook just sitting there right next to him???

-How do you expect him not to look through it?

-Belphie doesn’t care much for privacy

-And he doesn’t exactly have morals either

-He didn’t even know you were into drawing

-Which to be fair, wasn’t scandalous considering he sleeps 20 hours a day

-But he wants to be more involved in your interests so that’s why he took initiative with your sketchbook

-Idk what he was expecting but definitely not a sketch of him staring back at him

-His heart skipped a beat but I don’t even know if demons have hearts

-The cheeky little shit took pictures and may or may not have made on your drawings of him his wallpaper

-Most of the drawings were of him sleeping, surprising...absolutely no one

-“So that’s what you’re up to whenever I go to sleep huh? So cute~”

-But besides all that, he is really touched

-I mean, if there’s anyone undeserving of your love and respect is the piece of shit of who tried to kill you

-Yet here you are, continuously showering him with affection and now this

-Probably spent hours looking at your sketchbook while you were at R.A.D

-Didn’t say anything to you when you came back except handing your notebook back to you

-Though he was less of a smartass and more affectionate for the rest of the day

-Next morning, you took the liberty of waking up before him and sketching him again

-He grabbed your arm halfway through your doodling and grinned at you from under the covers

-“Drawing me again huh? You won’t mind me doing this while you’re at it then right?”

-Now he’s sleeping in your lap

-Whenever you show him your work, he makes a small approving noise but he’s seriously impressed

-Draw Lucifer or Lord Diavolo in any offensive manner and he will actually start giggling

-Gets all huffy puffy when you draw his brothers instead of him (we all know Beel is the exception)

-I may have a thing for Belphegour

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #☂️ demon brothers #🕯 general

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upamongthestarss · 4 years

Text

Perfect Timing//Bill Denbrough x fem reader

Please be kind! This is only my second time publishing on tumblr, so I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but here we are!

Warnings: smut, brief mention of fem oral receiving, swearing, mild angst, underage drinking

Spring break came way too slowly, especially for Y/n. Freshman year of college is said to be one of the best years of your life, but it’s definitely the worst. Her high school was entirely too easy for her, probably because her teachers were just idiots. Then college hit, and the workload was unbearable. Not to mention, she grew homesick for her parents and her best friends and even a tiny bit for Bill.

Oh, how she hated Bill back home.

Well, okay, she didn’t hate him, it was more of just a mutual tension that sometimes led to the Losers separating them at all costs.

They went on a few dates freshman year, and even kissed once, but it all ended when popular Autumn asked Bill to “help her with English” at lunch one day. He completely forgot to tell Y/n, but didn’t think much of the whole affair anyway. When Y/n walked out of the lunch line, she smiled at her newly official boyfriend. He was hunched over a piece of paper, diligently writing with ginger hair falling into his eyes. When Autumn saw her coming over, she tapped Bill on the shoulder, and kissed him full on the mouth when he turned to her.

Y/n’s hands went slack, causing her tray to clatter to the ground. Tomato soup splattered all over her new white Keds. She obviously looked down to see the damage, and missed Bill pushing Autumn off of him. He went over to check on her and help her clean up, but she stormed off to the bathrooms.

From then on out, there’s been so much tension between them. Even though Bill explained what happened countless times, she’s absolutely refused to listen. She’s had trust issues after her biological father cheated on her mother when she was little, and this, well, this basically made them inflate like the economy. She wasn’t on speaking terms with him until the end of the school year, and even then their friendship was rocky.

But there was also a sexual tension. Bill and Y/n still had blatantly obvious feelings for each other, whether they wanted to admit or not. In fact, they even went to senior prom together, but it ended in disaster. There was a dramatic exit from Y/n when he mentioned how he was on good terms with Autumn now, and she was really sorry for what happened.

“Why the hell would you bring that up now?” Y/n rose from her seat.

“B-b-because she t-told me she w-wanted us to-”

“Can’t we just completely forget what happened back then? It was so long ago.”

Bill flushed. “Well, it r-r-really seems l-like you’ve n-n-never forgotten ab-about it these past th-three years.”

She threw her napkin on the table and left after saying, “You’re a dick.”

That night she vented to Eddie and ultimately admitted to having feelings for him, but he knew that all along anyway.

That night was the last time they talked until it was time for Bill to leave for NYU.

“Good luck,” she told him, bouncing on the balls of her feet nervously.

“Th-thank you, Y/n, y-you too!” he was so excited that day that he even pulled her into a hug, much to her surprise (and delight).

And now, here she is, on the plane to Palm Springs. It’s a long flight from Marywood, so Y/n uses her time to finish her homework. She’s majorly jetlagged by the time she lands at Palm Springs International. Luckily, the cab ride isn’t ridiculously long. When she gets to Richie’s beach house, he’s on the porch with his feet up and a daiquiri in hand.

“Y/N!!!!” he shouts, putting his drink to the side and running down the stairs.

“RICHIE!!!!” she yells back, dropping her bags to run and hug him.

“Oh, it’s been so long!”

“I know!! And holy shit, your house is gorgeous!”

“I’m telling you, Y/n, I lucked out so much by scoring that audition. Can you believe it? Rich Records Tozier, the nation’s youngest beloved DJ.”

“Hardly,” she chuckles. “So how is the life of fame treating you?”

“Oh, brilliant. Come on in, I’ll give you a tour,” he scoops up her bag and leads her to the door. It’s an incredible house, with a beautiful kitchen and even a movie theater.

“And here’s your room,” he gestures to the first door upstairs.

“May I?” she asks, hand on the doorknob.

“Be my guest.”

She swings it open to a redheaded girl on one of the two beds. She looks up from her magazine, smirking. “Hey, roomie!”

“Bev!” Y/n shrieks as her best friend runs to her and practically knocks her over.

“When did you get here?!”

“About an hour ago. Stan’s here too, but he’s taking a nap.”

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Y/n grins mischievously.

“Everyone else is supposed to get here tomorrow morning, except for Mike. He’s coming tonight.”

“Oh, thank God. No Bill for a half day more.”

“Oh, Y/n, don’t be so close-minded,” Bev giggles and they sit down on the same bed, bursting with so much to catch up on. Richie doesn’t know if he should sit down with them or just go back to his daiquiri, but the doorbell rings.

“Saved by the bell,” he says, getting the side eye in response.

The girls talk for hours until they decide to say hello to Mike. Y/n stops at the bathroom first, and it takes her a while to find the kitchen after that. She has to follow the voices and Richie’s booming laugh.

“Sorry, I got lost,” she says, turning in the kitchen. “Hi, Mi-”

The third person talking to Richie and Beverly is not Mike.

It’s Bill. And she looks like a total bum in her old sundress and messy ponytail. She isn’t wearing a drop of makeup, either.

“Y/n.”

“Bill. Good to see you,” she holds out her hand professionally. He shakes it.

Is it good to see him? Looking at his cerulean eyes certainly sends butterflies through her stomach and through… other parts of her body.

“Y-you too.”

That immaculate stutter. She sits down at a barstool and crosses her legs together tightly. Richie and Beverly are quick to notice it, but restrain from commenting.

“I thought you were coming in tomorrow morning?”

She doesn’t sound rude or accusatory, just curious.

“M-my flight got c-c-cancelled.”

“Okay, gotcha.”

She drums her fingertips on the counter restlessly, not really knowing what else to say.

Luckily, Richie has a plan in case things get awkward between these two- and he’s already having to use it.

“Anyone want a drink?”

************************

“Nursing school is so insane. In anatomy, our teacher dissected a literal human body, and we had to examine it.”

“Eddie, please. We’re eating,” Y/n coughs.

“It was disgusting, but it was also fascinating,” he defends himself.

“Whatever floats your boat,” Ben shrugs.

“Y/n, tell us more about Marywood,” Eddie says, but she’s way too busy watching Bill talk to Richie’s cute next door neighbor while holding her little sister.

“You’re so good with her!” she simpers, tossing her shiny brown hair.

“Y/n? Earth to Y/n?”

“What?”

“How’s Marywood?”

“Oh, it’s… fine.”

“Just fine? Did you pick a major yet?”

She shakes her head.

“What about that guy? Are you still with him?”

“David? No, we were together for a while, but I guess the spark just kinda died. I mean, he initiated the breakup, but it was all mutual.”

Eddie squirts a dollop of sunscreen the size of a clementine in his hand. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” Y/n shrugs, averting her gaze back to Bill. She’s very glad that she's wearing sunglasses, to hide her stares.

The cute girl was right, he is good with that little girl. Her heart would be melted, but Bill keeps flirting with the older sister. It’s disgusting.

And then, that girl has the audacity to drop the rattle she shook in the baby’s face. Y/n is close enough to hear the conversation, or at least read lips.

“Oh, l-l-l-let m-me get that.”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” she smiles, bending over so stealthily so that her breasts are all but out of that bikini.

“Ugh,” Y/n rolls her eyes.

“What’s up?” Ben asks.

“Nothing. I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” she stands up and walks almost catatonically to the door.

Instead of going to the bathroom, she finds a glass and slams it on the table.

“D-damn, Y/n. That’s n-n-not a napkin, you kn-know.”

She jumps at Bill’s voice. He obviously followed her in, and she’s not too thrilled about it.

“Funny,” she replies, searching the cabinets. “Do you want anything?”

“I-I was ac-actually getting d-drinks.”

“Oh, for you and your new girlfriend? Hey, let me know when the wedding is. That is, if I even get on the guest list.”

“What’s your p-p-problem?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

Y/n finds a bottle of straight vodka and pours it right in the glass.

“Hey, its eh-eh-eleven AM,” Bill warns her, reaching for the glass. Unfortunately, their hands grab for it at the same time and it goes crashing to the ground.

“Great, thanks,” she says.

“I didn’t w-want you to be w-w-wasted all d-day.”

“Listen, Bill,” she takes a deep breath. “I really appreciate your concern. I do. But it’s my life, and if I want to get wasted this early, then no one should stop me.”

He doesn’t answer. They both grab rags and start to clean up around their feet.

“Th-this kind of r-r-reminds me of a certain sit-situation involving t-tomato soup,” Bill risks saying.

It was a terrible idea.

“Are you kidding me? I thought we moved on from that!”

“Yeah, so w-w-we can j-joke about it now!”

She’s silent for a minute, a blend of wrath and sadness.

“Just,” Y/n says, “Just go back out with your girlfriend.”

“I-I-I h-hardly know- o-okay, what the hell is y-y-your problem? We’re n-not together an-anymore!!! You sh-sh-shouldn’t c-care about my l-l-love life.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” she stands up, vodka dripping from the rag to her toes. “I don’t care that I shouldn’t care. I do care! I’ve always cared!”

Bill is speechless, and she honestly doesn’t blame him. Y/n assumes he doesn’t feel the same about her. After all, they haven’t dated since freshman year. Sighing, she puts the rag in the sink and walks back outside.

She’s opening up her book and lying on her stomach to get a tan when Y/n hears an obnoxious “Excuse me?”

She looks up to the girl, who could literally be a bikini model.She looks at Y/n like she’s a piece of dirt, and Y/n just wants to smack her. She could never hurt anyone, though.

“Um, do you know when Bill will be back with the drinks?”

“Not a clue.”

******

Bill absolutely could not stop thinking of Y/n all day. He never really can, ever, but his thoughts have been out of control all damn day. They range from wild fantasies to regrets from way back when to just simply: She still likes me, she still likes me, she still likes me!!!!

He wants more than anything to talk to her and confess he’s been in love with her since high school, maybe even before that. But some small voice in Bill’s head tells him that even if she does have feelings, she won’t want to act on them. After all, he’s been nothing but an asshole to her.

Then again, so has she.

It’s really ironic that they’re so abrasive towards each other. Y/n is so kind and friendly to everyone she meets; that’s why Bill fell for her. And everyone tells him that he’s nothing but a sweetheart. And he’s always treated his every girlfriend like a princess.

But it’s Y/n he wants as a girlfriend, and it always has been.

Y/n comes running down the stairs, using the bansiters to prop herself up and skip the last couple steps. She’s been strangely lighthearted after she made that confession to Bill. It had been a weight on shoulders for the longest time, after all. And now that it’s out of the bag, she feels as if she can finally move on.

Holy shit, she’s so cute, Bill says to himself. She has this youthful energy, but the looks of a gorgeous young woman. Not to mention her outfit- a pastel yellow halter top, short jean shorts, and a sky blue scrunchie- looks magnificent.

“Okay, I’m ready to go!” she grins widely. “Sorry for the holdup!”

“You’re good,” Richie replies. “We were just figuring out transportation, considering I can only take five of us in my car.”

“I don’t mind taking the trunk,” Y/n shrugs. “Anyone else?”

“I will,” Beverly volunteers.

“Okay, great, and five of you can squish in the backseat. Mike claimed shotgun earlier.”

Everyone else groans while he flashes a smile and gives them finger guns.

“So charming,” Bev laughs and grabs Y/n’s hand. They run out to the car and squish in the trunk.

“Bev, I have to tell you something,” Y/n whispers.

“What?”

“I’m still not over Bill.”

“Thank you, Y/n,” she responds sarcastically.

“How did you know that? I only told Eddie!”

“It was just a little obvious,” she laughs. “And the good news is that we all think he feels the same way!”

“I don’t think he does, Bev,” Y/n shakes her head.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I told him today-”

“You what?”

“Shush!” she scolds as the boys get in the car. Luckily they’re all talking and can’t hear the girls if they whisper. “It just sort of... slipped out. But he didn’t even say anything. He just kind of… froze? It was so awkward.”

“You know he’s a little awkward around girls that he likes.”

“Is he, though?”

“Sure he is!”

“I don’t know, Bev. He stood there for a full thirty seconds without saying anything, and he just let me leave,” Y/n explains. “I think if he really liked me, he would have told me by now.”

Beverly gets quiet. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“Hey, it’s okay! The timing was never right, and that- that happens. And it’s better I know now so I’m not hung up on him for the rest of my life.”

The rest of the drive is mostly just Beverly telling Y/n that there’s someone out there for her, and to keep her eyes open at the restaurant.

It’s a bright restaurant, very tropical and very flamboyant. A lush plant, obviously made of silicon, is the centerpiece of every table.

Good, it can hide me from Bill and spare my embarrassment, Y/n thinks as she sits opposite him. Unfortunately, Ben asks the hostess to take it away so he can see everyone. Y/n is mortified. Being directly across from her, he can watch and judge the girl the entire dinner.

She tries her hardest the whole meal not to pay Bill any mind, but it gets difficult when he starts getting tipsy. And drunk Bill can be wild. Singing and dancing on the tables wild. Luckily he isn’t at that point yet.

She doesn’t even know how he was able to buy drinks here; he’s only nineteen. The waitress must have a crush on him or something. Maybe she and Richie’s neighbor could start a Bill fanclub.

Y/n has a feeling the waitress would ask for her ID, though, so she sticks to soda. And three Shirley Temples is never good on anyone’s bladder.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she announces. “Anyone else?”

Everyone shakes their heads. Everyone except…

“Me! M-m-me!” Bill waves his hand around like a hyper child.

“Great, I’m a babysitter now,” Y/n murmurs.

She starts walking to the bathroom, Bill hot on her heels. Surprisingly enough, when she finishes peeing, he’s actually waiting for her.

“F-f-finally. G-g-girls take so long in the buh-buh-bathroom.”

She ignores him.

“Y/nnnnn,” he slurs. “I’ve been m-m-meaning to t-t-tell you, your a-a-ass looks fantastic in th-those shorts.”

“Because that’s not a rude thing to say at all,” she replies, feeling her face burn up.

“I’m n-n-not trying to be r-rudeeee,” Bill grabs her waist and pulls her in. Y/n can smell all the alcohol on his breath, and it’s disgusting. He kisses her full on the mouth.

She shoves him off, embarrassed by his behavior. “You’re drunk.”

“If b-b-being drunk makes me w-w-want to m-make out with you, I-I-I never want t-to be so-sober.”

That hits Y/n hard. Bill Denbrough wants her. But only when he’s drunk.

He doesn’t love her in his right mind. This is all she has, and she can’t even fathom just taking advantage of him when he’s drunk. Using someone would hurt her in such an inexplicable way, and not to mention it would tear whatever small bond she had with Bill into shreds.

She plops back down in her seat, barely touching the rest of her food or speaking for the rest of the night.

When she gets to her shared room with Bev, Y/n takes a shower. She’s always loved showers because they’re a place where you can cry without risk of anyone hearing over the water running.

And that’s exactly what Y/n does. She lets the tears stream down her face, washed away by the showerhead’s water.

*******

Bill knows he got plastered last night, so it’s no surprise when he wakes up with a pounding headache. But he isn’t sure why Y/n is so quiet, especially around him. Usually she has a remark or at least a glare for him, but she seems almost meek today.

He pulls Beverly aside at one point, and asks if he did anything to her last night.

“I don’t know, Bill. You guys went to the bathroom at the same time, and when you came back, Y/n seemed really upset.”

“L-l-like angry, or s-sad?”

“Sad. But she didn’t tell me anything that happened. I’m sorry, Bill.”

“It’s o-o-okay. Th-Thanks, Bev.”

He spends the rest of the day trying to remember something- anything- from last night. Bathrooms. Bathrooms.

There are some vignettes. Y/n across from him, in that pretty top. Watching her ass as she walked to the bathrooms.

Oh, shit. Bill made some sort of comments about those shorts. What happened after that? He kissed her, didn’t he? But why would that make her sad?

When evening rolls around, Bill still doesn’t remember anything new. He’s the only one in the living room, not even paying attention to the TV. His friends come bounding down the stairs, all wearing sneakers and athletic outfits.

“A-a-are you g-guys going somewhere?”

“Yeah, to the new rope climbing place,” Stan replies.

“Where’s Y/n?”

“She has vertigo, and wanted to stay here. We thought you could stay here so she’s not alone all night.”

“You d-d-didn’t th-think about asking me f-first?”

“We drew names out of a hat,” Beverly steps in. “You just weren’t around when we did it.”

“Isn’t that a l-l-little ruh-rude to Y-Y/n? One of us is g-g-going to st-stay with her instead of h-having fun?”

“No, Bill, it was the opposite!” Richie tries to save the group, much to their chagrin. “We were voting on who didn’t get to stay home with Y/n. And you won! You get to!”

“Wh-what i-if I want to donate m-my win?”

“Doesn’t work like that. Wins are final.”

It’s all BS, and Bill knows it. There never was a hat draw, everyone knows that Bill and Y/n have a lot to work out, and they don’t want the two to go back from spring break with even more animosity for each other.

Also, they know that the two have feelings that have been expressed so wrongly over the years. Maybe now it’s time to work them out.

“So we’re going to head out now; have fun with Y/n!” Eddie waves, and they run out excitedly.

Bill sighs, not knowing what he’s going to do with Y/n all night. Maybe she’ll just be antisocial and hide in her room all night, but he personally hopes she won’t. He decides to hang out by the pool for a while, and changes into his swim trunks.

By the time he gets outside, though, Y/n is already there. She’s hugging her knees to her chest and watching the little waterfall intently.

“Hey,” Bill says, making her jump.

“Hey.”

“C-c-can I join you?”

She nods.

“Why aren’t you with the others?”

“B-because I w-w-won their ‘contest,’”

“Contest?” she shakes her head, not understanding.

“To b-b-babysit you, ap-apparently.”

“Ah. Sounds legitimate.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just lets the sounds of the waterfall and the faint grasshoppers fill the silence. He’s sure Y/n doesn’t mind, though. When everyone else complained about the summer grasshoppers as kids, she would always dote on how they’re melodious and comforting.

Bill can’t hold himself back any longer.

“Y/n, what d-d-did I do l-last night?”

She turns to him. “You really don’t remember?”

“I re-remember making a com-comment, which I-I’m sorry about b-by the way, th-that was an a-asshole move. And I-I remember kissing y-you. But then what?”

Taking a deep breath, Y/n continues. “Well, then I pushed you off and told you that you were drunk.”

She pauses.

“And th-then?”

“Then you said, ‘If I want to make out with you when I’m drunk, then I don’t ever want to be sober.’”

That’s it? Bill thinks. He’s not stupid enough to voice his thoughts, luckily.

“Oh, Y-Y-Y/n, I w-w-was drunk. I d-didn’t know what I w-w-was saying.”

“Listen, Bill. I know you remember what I told you yesterday in the kitchen. And what you told me at the restaurant really hurt, okay?”

“Why? I-I wanted to k-k-kiss you,” he asks, genuinely confused.

“You’re such an idiot sometimes!” Y/n laughs incredulously. “You wanted to kiss me when you were drunk, not in your right mind!”

“I al-always want to k-k-kiss you in my right mind!”

“What?!”

“I-I think I love you, Y/n.”

She’s frozen. Could he actually mean that? Has he been drinking again? Hearing that from Bill Denbrough has been her dream since… forever.

“I think I love you too, Bill.”

He jumps up from his lounge chair, and leans over Y/n. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and kisses her tenderly, gently. Her lips are just as soft as he remembers them to be all those years ago, softer than any other girl he’s kissed.

“Wow,” she beams as they pull apart. “I guess I knew this, but you’re a much better kisser than my ex.”

He laughs. “W-why, thank you. You’re n-n-not so bad y-yourself.”

“Thanks,” she giggles. “I just… I can’t believe this is happening. I feel like doing something crazy now, something outrageous.”

“L-like what?”

“Hm…” she thinks for a minute. “Do you want to go skinny dipping?”

“Okay, sure,” Bill chuckles.

Grinning, she begins to peel off her one piece. She slips the straps off, and the rest slowly slides off her body. Her breasts are exposed first, then her stomach, then everything. Her skin is smooth and glorious.

Bill pulls off his swim trunks and throws them behind him. Y/n wants to tease him about his erection, but she’s way too shocked at his size.

They bask in the beauty of each other for a moment before they dive into the water, crisp and cool on their bare bodies. Y/n splashes Bill right in his face.

He pushes wet strands of hair from his ocean eyes. “H-how dare you?”

“What are you going to do about it?” she taunts.

“This,” Bill says, throwing Y/n over his shoulder and taking her outside the water. She’s both screaming and laughing her head off at this point. He carries her all the way to the deep end and tosses her in.

When she surfaces, Y/n makes sure to flip him off.

“So r-r-rude.”

He cannonballs in, and they swim around, and eventually go under the waterfall. They end up making out and gasping for air.

“D-d-do you want to tuh-take this inside?” Bill whispers.

She nods, and they get out. As Y/n shivers, Bill gets them fluffy towels from a bin by the chairs.

Grabbing his hand, she pulls him through the sliding glass doors. They run around the house in nothing but towels, giggling and kissing and dripping pool water everywhere. The two finally make it to Bill’s room and go directly to the bed (after locking the door).

“Spruh-spread your legs,” Bill breathes in her ear, sending goosebumps up and down her body.

She obeys and lets him kiss her knees, her thighs, and eventually her core. He pleases Y/n in a way her old boyfriend never did.

When she finishes, Bill holds her for a minute so she can catch her breath. Then, when he turns around to put on a condom, she moves against the wall.

“Oh, s-s-so you w-want wall sex n-now?” Bill raises his eyebrows.

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

Instead of using words, Bill throws Y/n up against the wall and kisses her roughly. Their tongues clash, and she loves every second of it. Then he goes in. He starts slow at first, but begins to pick up the pace with her approval.

“D-damn, you’re so t-t-tight,” he whispers while she keeps muttering his name.

“Probably because I wasn’t with someone as big as you before.”

Hearing that makes him turn redder than his hair. “Really?”

“Really,” she sighs. “Can you go a little slower?”

He listens to her, and almost screams in pleasure when she starts to suck on his neck.

They both finish in a couple minutes, and are pretty burned out- Y/n especially because she’s never made such rough love before.

She lies in his arms, back on the bed, and traces the love mark forming on his neck.

“I think I love you,” Y/n says for the second time tonight.

“I-I th-think I love you t-too.”

They can’t help smiling for the umpteenth time in the past hour. Their stars had never aligned until now, and it couldn’t be a more perfect exchange of love. The wait was unbearable, but incredibly worth it.

Y/n and Bill make each other feel whole, like there was a sort of void within each other, unfilled until now.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice is soft and gentle. “I’m so sorry about these past years. You know I have trust issues, but I took them too far and didn’t treat you right. And I’m so sorry.”

“I’m s-sorry, too. I’ve been an ass-asshole to y-y-you, a-and it’s m-m-my fault we broke uh-up in the f-first place.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/n frowns. “It was Evil Autumn’s fault.”

They chuckle.

Resting her head on Bill’s chest, Y/n asks the dreaded question.

“So what’s going to become of us? After spring break.”

Bill thinks for a minute, stroking her hair, and admits, “I don’t w-w-want us to c-c-cut each other off again.”

“Neither do I.”

“I think our sc-sc-schools are like t-t-two hours ap-apart; that’s n-not terrible.”

“It’s not,” Y/n agrees. “Maybe we could take turns driving every weekend, and find a halfway point or something.”

“A-an ex-exact halfway point,” Bill adds.

“An exact halfway point.”

They can make it work, they’ve got to. Both Bill and Y/n are extremely optimistic about the future ahead, now that every feeling has been sorted out between them. And even in the unfavorable event where things don’t work out, there will always be Palm Springs.

Bill presses a kiss to her forehead. There’s not a chance that they won’t make it. The timing is finally, after all these years, perfect.

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #stephen king IT #the losers club #mild angst #some smut

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butterfliesinthenightsky · 3 years

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hi sweetheart !! may i please req an ateez and bts personality ship ?? my description was SUPER long (I GOT CARRIED AWAY </3) so you can cut my request at the personality part when posting my ship! tysm in advance <3

I’m an ‘03 liner that’s 5’9.5 (basically 5’10) with dark skin, jet black hair (currently in long twists rn!!), and i’m on the curvier side (esp hips and my thighs) !! some of my favorite features are my plump lips (and i have a beauty mark near the inside of my bottom lip!), my long legs (they’re 40.5 inches long and look so good in dresses and skirts <33), my kempt and pretty fingernails, and my eyelashes !!! i’m a virgo (and surprisingly i get along with all the signs, i cant think of a sole zodiac sign i DONT mix well with but i love cancers and virgos <33) ! i’m also an ambivert all the way! i often come off as cold/shy/quiet when meeting new people (one of my closest friends avoided me for a month before meeting me because i looked so intimidating LMAO), but once you get close to me i turn into a goofy (heavy on the goofy im never not laughing) bundle of warmth and love: i will never stop texting them the <3 emoji every morning or buying my friends/s/o their favorite starbucks order when they need a little cheer-me-up. also, lots of people say i’m mature and carry myself well, but around my friends i’m one of the most goofiest people ever (probably bc my face will literally be 😐 one sec and then 🥰 the next second when someone makes me laugh <3)

tysm in advance!!! Have an amazing day/afternoon/evening!

@anpanseok DARLING! I hope you love your ship <3 I'm actually really proud of this one, you'll have to let me know what you think! <3

In ATEEZ, I ship you with one and only demon San!

(I thought you'd like that gif ;) )

Okay, when you were describing all of the things that you would want in the relationship, I thought of San due to how clingy and affectionate he is with the other members of ATEEZ. He is a Cancer, which is good because that is one of the star signs that are compatible with yours. I don't believe that the age difference of four years would be that much of an issue, especially since San acts younger than he is most of the time anyway. I feel like most men are intimidated when their female significant other is tall themselves, but he is tall himself and I feel like the fact that you are taller is kind of one of his favorite things about you? One of his other favorite things about you are your curves, he always puts his hand on your thighs during movie night at the boys' dorm or in the back pocket of your jeans when you two are walking into KQ Entertainment together. When you wear dresses when all of you go out to fancy dinners together, he has to hold himself back because he ADORES you when you wear dresses! You said you're am ambivert, I feel like he relates to that in some form of way, like I feel like there are certain situations where he feels a bit more introverted about. Sometimes Hongjoong has to scold him because he texts you so much, but he can't stay mad at you when you pop into the building with their favorite Starbucks drinks and hand-made lunch boxes for them. Just as you always support his creative endeavors, he always returns it for you tenfold and when you are talking about issues you care deeply about, he gives you his full attention and stares at you lovingly. Not just San, but all of the boys, come to you whenever they are dealing with stress and they just want someone to talk to because you are so amazing at giving advice and supporting them. There was a time when a sasaeng approached you, San, Wooyoung and Jongho when you were doing some late night grocery shopping when another ATINY stopped her, causing an argument and nasty words to be exchanged. Let's just say, you shut that sasaeng down REAL quick when you heard some of the things she said. One day you woke up and found a present that San made for you, a mixtape of all of your favorite songs from all your favorite genres of music, along with a little keychain that had tokens of all of the states you had visited. He wholeheartedly loves you and he makes every effort to support all of your dreams. When he has days off from work, the two of you make a blanket fort in your living room and watch old episodes of Forensic Files and Law & Order: SVU, whilst surrounded by fluffy blankets and a couple of his favorite plushies. His life an idol doesn't afford him much down time, unfortunately, but he always makes time for you and you always have the craziest adventures with not only each other, but all of the other boys as well. Squishy San will want all of the cuddles, have you SEEN how affectionate he is with the other members?! Also, him in all black outfits.... YES, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. One day he was visiting your apartment and he surprised you with matching beaded pearl bracelets and he never takes it off, not even for performances. The boys don't really think nothing of walking into the bathroom to brush their teeth whilst one of the others is showering, that just comes with their busy schedules and their dorm life. Let's just say this: Mingi wasn't able to look you in the eyes for two weeks because he did just that, not realize that you had snuck in and stayed the night, and were currently going to the bathroom whilst San was in the shower. Your camera roll is not only filled with silly pictures of San that you've captured, but of the most magazine worthy, model pictures you have ever been lucky enough to take. He accepts you for all of your flaws, and helps you to try to work on them, however that may be and you do the same for him.

In summary: You both are simps for each other and I AM HERE FOR IT.

In BTS, I ship you with Namjoon!

Another tall boy for you, I got you! You both are Virgos, but I looked it up worried that two Virgos would clash, and it said that they would be very intuitive with each other and would understand each other! The age gap is quite large, I don't know how okay you are with that? I know everyone has different preferences. He approached you first when he saw you at the mom & pop coffee shop/cafe around the corner from your apartment, and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Another man who I don't think would be bothered by your curves (men can be shallow dicks), I think that is his favorite thing (same as San) about you. Not even in a sexual way, I feel like his hands would always end up on your butt without him even noticing. Most of the time, one of the other boys will point it out when all of you are hanging out together, and he will be proud that he has a significant other like you, but he almost might become a shy mess about it I feel like. I feel like he can get jealous, just because you are closest to Jungkook in the group and you often pull pranks on the other members together. There is never a shortage of laughs when all of you are together, pure crackhead energy if I've ever seen it, just non stop jokes and banter between all of you. You were able to get time off from work and were actually able to join them (their managers were surprisingly chill about you tagging along? CONFUSION?) on their tour around Europe and you had so many memories. You actually brought along a Polaroid camera that you found in a little store one day when the two of you were shopping, and you ended up having to buy an extra suitcase on the trip because you took LITERAL hundreds of pictures of all of your adventures and the tour shenanigans. He has childish tendencies, I feel like he would love to play Roblox with you? I feel like he would take a very mathematical approach to building things, that's just the vibe I get from him. He often stares at you when you're doing your makeup in the morning, he finds it fascinating and he even asked you to do his makeup for some of his shows. His makeup artists weren't angry, luckily, all of their staffs absolutely adore you two together. He is all up for adventures, I feel like he would chicken out at the idea of skydiving, though lol. You keep stealing his sweaters, which he low-key highkey is SO happy about because he loves the way that you look in them. The size difference is only three or four inches (I've seen people say he's 6 feet, but then others say he's 6 foot 2, WHICH IS IT?!), so it's pretty easy to sneak kisses from him whenever you want them when you're together. If he sees you struggling to stay awake whilst studying, he'll softly close your book and drag you over to your bed for a couple hours so you can take a quick nap to regain the energy. I don't really know his temperament that well, he has to be rather even-tempered to deal with those hooligans he calls the rest of BTS, so I feel like you wouldn't have that many fights. You both are always striving to help each other to be the best versions of each other you can be. You joined the boys on vacation at a lake house and one night you were having dinner and he blushed after you said something cheeky to him, causing you to say to him, "You look like a cute tomato when you blush, my cutie pie." in front of the other members. Needless to say, he turned even more red and the boys teased him mercilessly for the rest of the night. Don't know how the cooking would go (this boy is a DISASTER in the kitchen), but you would have fun learning new dishes. He would brag about getting a dish right, and you quickly praise him but also say, " and that's why you a big ass head.", causing him to die laughing. He is the very definition of a hard worker, and I feel like he would love being praised and doing the same for his significant other, so I'm glad that you said that you liked the words of affirmation love language, because GET READY. He's definitely been buffing up (I SCREAM WHENEVER I SEE PICTURES OF HIM NOWADAYS), so

his hugs would always be the best things, so warm and comforting. Don't know how you feel about children? We've all seen that VLive where this idiot literally bought baby shoes because he thought they were cute, so I think he would definitely want children down the road in your relationship if you were both comfortable with it. Best father and husband award goes to him.

In conclusion: SIMP. SIMP. SIMP. SIMP. SIMPPPPPPPPPPPP.

#kpop ships #kpop submission #ateez #bts #choi san #kim namjoon #submission

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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Alone in the Ashes {18}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: "The one where Nesta explodes.” Sorry, friends.

“How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall? ― Ellen Hopkins, Crank

“To Feyre and Rhys!” Mor called, lifting her glass to the middle of the table, where it met Feyre’s, Elain’s, and Amren’s. “I can’t believe you’re getting married to my cousin. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

She sighed, and Elain beamed from beside her.

“We’re so happy for you both,” she promised.

Feyre grinned. It had been a week since Rhysand proposed, and now, on Saturday night, the girls had all decided to go out to celebrate, leaving the boys at home.

“Speaking of happiness, I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time at Azriel’s,” Feyre said, eyeing Elain. “At night.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink as she rolled her eyes.

“Every night but one,” Mor muttered, and when Amren’s brows rose, she clarified, “Azriel stayed at her townhouse last Saturday night and came home Sunday looking very, very happy.”

Feyre slammed her glass down on the table. “You had sex?”

Elain groaned, hiding her face. “We’re supposed to be talking about you, not me.”

“Definitely had sex,” Amren muttered, grinning, as she took a sip from her glass.

“Yes,” Elain breathed, face as red as a tomato. “We did. Now, let’s move on.”

“How is he?” Mor asked. “I mean, I’ve heard rumors over the years, but he’s, you know, never clarified.”

“Is it big?” Feyre asked, brows wiggling.

“I vote there’s more in girth than in length,” Amren followed.

Mor howled. “True.”

All eyes shot to Mor.

She blinked. “What? I’ve lived with the guy on and off for years, and if his morning wood is any indication, Amren’s not wrong.”

Elain shook her head, unable to control her laughter. “As much as I love this discussion, I vote we move on.”

“Okay, okay, moving on,” Feyre said, laying her palms flat on the table. “As soon as you tell us if we’re right or not.”

Elain took a deep breath. “Fine…...Yes to girth, now, moving on.”

Feyre fell into Amren, tears coming out of her eyes at her sister’s embarrassment - her sweet, gentle sister.

“Be glad I’m not asking you the same questions,” Elain said, downing her glass.

“Oh, I’ll happily answer,” Feyre chuckled. “Hell, Rhys will happily answer. He likes to brag.”

Mor rolled her eyes. “Yes, but every word that comes out of his mouth while he brags is complete bullshit. Besides, talking about my cousin’s penis physically makes me ill.”

Once their laughter died down, and Feyre promised not to mention anything about Rhysand’s dick, she looked to Amren.

“How’s Cass?”

Amren’s brows furrowed. “Oh, you mean after he spent the night in jail for beating up a bar full of people?” She shrugged. “He’s been decent. Goes to work, comes home, drowns himself in whiskey, and does it all again the next day. At least Bryaxis is there. Cassian keeps his cool with Ax next to him.”

“Because of Nesta?” Elain asked, surprised.

Amren shrugged. “He won’t talk about it, but she hasn’t been around and he lies awake at night cursing her name, so I assume so.”

“You’d think he was in love with her,” Feyre said, then stilled. “Holy fuck, he’s in love with her. Nesta. Of all people.”

“I don’t understand what the fascination is, myself,” Mor muttered.

Elain nodded, slowly. “I love Nesta, but she insists on making herself miserable at every opportunity. It’s been that way since we were in high school. Self destruction without a cure.”

Feyre knew that Elain was thinking of her own issues with depression, with thoughts of suicide lingering in the back of her mind. Feyre had been there, too. So had Mor. And Amren. But Nesta was a different breed...it never went away. And she wanted it to remain, that depression. She held onto it, craved destruction.

Nesta was so much like their mother.

Feyre couldn’t help but be pissed off, though. She had led Cassian on, had let him feel something - Cassian, who never felt anything serious about a woman. Cassian, with his uncontrollable anger living alongside his will to bring joy to everyone around him. Nesta had taken advantage of him, and Cassian was living through the aftermath.

“I saw that guy the other day, too,” Amren went on. “Tomas.”

Elain stilled as Feyre’s eyes snapped to Amren. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s back, I guess,” she said, shrugging. “Basically lives there now.”

Feyre was already grabbing her purse and scooting out of the booth. Elain wasn’t moving, was staring at the table, hands shaking.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, hesitantly.

“To Nesta’s. Come on.”

~~~~~

Nesta was sitting on her couch, staring at the blank t.v. when a pounding came on her door. She opened it a minute later and her sisters rushed in, Feyre first, Elain trailing after.

She sighed. “And what do I owe to this unexpected surprise?”

“Where is he?” Feyre asked, eyes narrowed. “Tomas.”

“Not here,” Nesta mumbled, shutting her door behind her. Her head was light, mind blurry. She was having trouble keeping herself upright. “Came to say hello?”

“Amren said he’s been around,” Elain said, quietly.

Nesta knew they would find out, eventually, but she hadn’t thought they would come storming into her apartment on a Saturday night.

“Why do you care?” Nesta asked. “I’m busy-”

“Cut the shit,” Feyre snapped, and met her sister’s eyes.

Nesta figured it was her fault, she was the one who had told Feyre, who had told Elain. The night Rhysand had been taken to the hospital, when Nesta had driven her youngest sister to the place where their mother had taken her final breath. She had found Feyre, while they were all waiting for Rhysand to wake up, and tried to bring her a little bit of comfort.

“You’re lucky to have Rhysand,” Nesta had said, sitting next to her sister in the hospital’s cafeteria, as she sipped on a cup of coffee. “I know you love him. He loves you, too.”

“Speaking of love...this whole thing with Cassian…” Feyre had started, avoiding having to talk about Rhysand, no doubt. “What’s really going on? What happened with Tomas?”

Nesta had shrugged. “Don’t know. He just left. It was for the best, anyways. He was who I got my drugs from, and nothing more.”

Feyre had stilled. “I thought you were done with that shit.”

“I’m trying,” Nesta had promised, hoping to bring her sister comfort. “It’s easier now that he’s gone. When Tomas is around, he gives it to me and I can’t say no.”

Feyre nodded, reaching across the table to grab her sister’s hand. It was the first conversation they’d had in a long, long time. “And when Cassian is around?”

Nesta snorted. “Cassian is….When Cassian is around, he makes me want to live. And I haven’t felt the want to live for as long as I can remember.”

“Where are they?” Feyre asked, voice hard, bringing Nesta back to the present.

“Where are what?” she asked, innocently.

Elain didn’t speak.

She simply watched, tears in her eyes.

Fear in her eyes.

“The drugs,” Feyre hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nesta snapped.

“Don’t fuck with me,” Feyre said, shaking her head. She walked into the kitchen and started digging through drawers, throwing shit around. “I can tell you’re high off your ass right now!”

When Feyre found nothing there, she went into Nesta’s bedroom.

Nesta was close behind. “Get out of my fucking apartment.”

But Feyre had already dug around, was already pushing Nesta out of the way and strutting into the bathroom.

She opened the top drawer.

Nesta was standing in the doorway, hands shaking.

Feyre pulled out everything. Bottles upon bottles of pain pills, and a packet of fine, light brown powder.

“Fucking heroin?” Feyre breathed, looking slowly at Nesta. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Nesta tried to snatch it from her sister’s hand, but Feyre was sober, and much, much faster. She took everything into her hands and shoved it into her bag before brushing past Nesta.

Nesta quickly followed her back into the living room. “Fuck you!”

“Did mom’s death mean nothing?” Feyre yelled, and Elain was crying, and the fact that Elain was crying made Nesta feel like shit. “How could you do this after mom fucking died from it!”

Silence enveloped the apartment, the only sound coming from Elain’s quiet sobs.

Nesta took a step toward her sister. It took everything in her to keep her voice steady as she said, “Maybe I wanna die, too.”

Feyre stilled and she closed her eyes, jaw locked. Then, she started shaking her head. “Don’t say that shit.”

“You wanna know the truth?” Nesta asked, arms outstretched. “You wanna know the fucking truth, Feyre? Well, here I am! So shut the fuck up and listen if you wanna know the fucking truth!” Her hands were shaking, her head pounding. She took another step toward her youngest sister, “I envy mom for taking too much shit that day. She got to leave this shitty world that day, and me? I’m still stuck here! No matter what I do! I’m here, living in this endless hell!”

Feyre said nothing. She stared at her sister, jaw hard, eyes lined with tears.

Nesta was breathing hard. She felt like shit. Felt like shit that her sisters were crying, felt like shit that she was never there for them. She felt like shit because the only thing keeping her from feeling like shit, all the fucking time, was the drugs. She felt like shit because she relied on them, felt like shit because it was the only reason she kept Tomas Mandray around. She felt like shit because her mom left them all, because she loved the drug too much, so much that she couldn’t stop, so much that it killed her, took her away from her husband, her daughters.

Nesta felt like shit because Cassian didn’t make her feel like shit.

But he deserved better.

At least she had done right by him.

“You don’t have to live like this,” Feyre whispered, and took her oldest sister’s face into her hands. “You don’t deserve this.”

Lie.

It was a lie.

A lie that had been told to Nesta many times, one she wasn’t sure she could ever believe to be true.

“I deserve worse,” Nesta countered, feeling nothing.

Feyre’s forehead fell into Nesta’s. “You deserve the world, if only you’d let yourself have it.”

~~~~~

“You’re fucking drunk.”

Cassian chuckled as Azriel shook his head. Yes, Rhysand was undoubtedly drunk and loving every minute of it. It was getting late, though, and Azriel, as the guardian of a four-year-old who would be up at the crack of dawn, needed to get some sleep.

“Alright,” Cassian laughed, slipping on his shoes before throwing Rhysand’s shoes at him. “I’ll walk you home before I head home.”

Rhysand let his shoes hit him in the abdomen before frowning. “Is Feyre home yet? I love Feyre.”

“I know,” Cassian muttered. “Put on your shoes and we’ll go see.”

“But shoes make my feet feel trapped,” Rhysand said, staring at his shoes. “Why would I want that for my toes?”

Azriel was laughing as Cassian picked up Rhysand’s shoes. “Then I’ll carry them and you can go in your socks.

“Good,” Rhysand slurred, stumbling toward the door.

“Text me when he’s safe inside of his apartment, please,” Azriel begged.

Cassian promised he would as the two went out into the cool, Summer night. Rhysand jumped as his phone began to ring. He searched his body helplessly before Cassian, laughing, pulled it out Rhysand’s pocket and answered.

“Hello? Rhysand’s phone.”

“Your hand touched my dick, asshole!” Rhysand yelled.

And Feyre laughed on the other end. “Sounds like a good time over there.”

“Your future husband and the father of your children is a drunken mess, but don’t worry, I’m walking him home.”

“Thank you,” Feyre said, voice quiet. “Can you tell him I won’t be home tonight?”

“Sure,” Cassian said, dragging Rhysand by the arm, down the sidewalk, as he stared up at the moon with wide, violet eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just at Nesta’s-” As if remembering who she was talking to, her words trailed off. “I’ll be home in the morning though...if you could let him know.”

“I will,” Cassian said, clearing his throat. “Um, is Nesta alright?”

The line went quiet. Then, Feyre said, “She will be.”

“Did Tomas hurt her?” he asked, unable to stop the question from coming out of his mouth.

“Tomas isn’t here,” was all she said. “Make sure my fiance gets safely inside of our house, will you?”

Cassian chuckled, although the light never reached his eyes. “You just like any excuse to call him your fiance.”

“True,” Feyre said. “But I mean it. My fiance is a sloppy drunk.”

“Oh, I know,” Cassian said. “I’m walking him up the stairs, literally having to hold his hand.”

Feyre laughed. “You’re a saint. Thanks Cass.”

“Yep,” he said. “Bye.”

He hung up and shoved the phone back into Rhysand’s pocket.

Once he made sure Rhysand was safely inside of his apartment, Cassian left, and before he even walked out of the front door, Rhysand was snoring on the couch.

Cassian climbed into his truck and sat in the silence for a minute.

Feyre and Nesta didn’t get along. Something must have happened, something must have been wrong. Something must have happened.

As Cassian started his truck, his mind began to wander. Then, he just got mad, reminding himself that he shouldn’t care. Nesta had made it very clear that she didn’t want him in her life. And he had told her the same.

Although, when he said it, it had been a lie.

When he pulled up in front of his own building, he had grown tired. Nothing sounded better than making his way up the stairs, closing himself inside of his apartment, and going to sleep.

But when he made it to the second floor landing, Feyre was standing in the middle of Cassian and Nesta’s apartments, holding a bag of-

“What the fuck?” he asked, and when the girls shushed him, he grabbed it out of her hand. “What are you doing with this shit? You can’t just wave it around in the open, shit, Feyre.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was giving it to Mor to flush, idiot.”

“Why do you even have this?” Cassian snapped.

And then it dawned on him.

He looked at Nesta’s closed door and sighed.

Cassian’s hand fell to his side, grabbing the little plastic bag tightly in his hand.

“She’s fine,” Feyre whispered, knowing full well the string of thoughts that were running through his mind. “Me and Elain are going to make sure this shit stays out of her apartment.”

“And Tomas?” Cassian asked, voice low. “Did she get this shit from him?”

When Feyre didn’t answer, Cassian was turning around, to storm off, to beat Tomas’s ass, but Feyre caught him by the wrist and pulled him back. She took his face into her hands, and even though he was a head taller than she was, she made him look down at her.

“You’re going to take that inside and get rid of it,” she whispered. “Then, you’re going to get your ass in bed. Beron’s already pissed he had to pick you for a bar fight this month, don’t make him take you to prison for killing some useless dealer.”

That anger was simmering, was beckoning to be released, but Cassian saw the fear, the exhaustion, in Feyre’s eyes.

He nodded.

Feyre sighed, and kissed his bearded cheek before telling them all goodnight.

“Cass,” Mor whispered, after a moment of him staring at the closed, apartment door across from his. “Come on.”

Amren took his hand, and when he looked at her, she was wearing a small, sad smile. “Time for bed.”

Cassian nodded and, every step he took feeling heavier than the last, he followed Mor and Amren into his apartment.

He sent the drugs down the toilet and threw the bag away, just like Feyre had asked.

But he didn’t go to bed.

Instead, he went to the couch and sat down, Amren on one side of him, Mor on the other.

He should have seen it as a sign. Should have known something was wrong with Nesta, that something wasn’t right. But he had pushed her away, let his anger in and allowed it to cloud his judgement.

Mor and Amren stayed with him. They each laid their heads on his broad shoulders and comforted him, as the night passed him by in utter silence.

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

tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @starkovsnesta @redisriding @photofeesh

@mariamuses @tswaney17 @amaranthas-whore @awesomelena555

@danika-defendyr @rachaels14 @faequeenaelin @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn

@hashtolanashoba @poisonous00 @chemicha @samotita

@mynewdreamwasyou @humming-asong

@candid-confetti @awkward-avocado-s

@my-fan-side @queen-of-glass @stars-falling

@ifangirlninja @sleeping-and-books @burritowithfeels

@morebooks-pls @kindofawalkingpoem

@sannelovesreading @empressnesrynfaliq

@halstudies @sleeping-and-books @alwayss-reading

@amren-courtofdreams @b00kworm

@wifeofchrishemsworth @booksstorm

@goldr0ses @blackjacks-donuts

@humanexile @over300books

@booksbooksbooksworld @starrynightsbooks

@girl-who-reads-the-books

@mis-lil-red

@shhhimreading03

@emilyrose111294

@negativenesta

@argentumstella

@itsme-malin

@flora-and-fae

@feyrethedarklady

@starryandbooks

@gingerglides

@gloriouspaintercreatorbandit @iliketoasterstrudels

@6255igntm @moondancer-204

@littlehoneyybee @acourtofbookworms

@the-regal-warrior

@awkward-avocado-s @nightcourtcinnamonroll

@aelin-rowan-whitehorn @bamchickawowow

@julemmaes @itsme-malin

@regular-nessian-trash @made-of-stardust-and-wanderlust

@ugh-avila @awkward-avocado-s

@superspiritfestival @the-dark-swan @girlgotattitude448 @eversincebeirut

@midnightrose-reader @lord-douglas-the-third @thestarguidingyouhome

@empress-ofbloodshed @starkovsnesta @nickjgoodsell

Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #nessian #feysand #elriel #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #tacmc aita #modern au

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professormembranexreader · 3 years

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Membrane x Esper! Fem! Reader (the smutty sequel)

RECAP

——————————————————

So Membrane has known about you and has been studying you due to your telepathy and strong telekinesis. You broke down and passed out, causing Membrane to take you back to his home. When you came to Membrane reassured you that you were part of the family.

(Y/N)'s POV

He had insisted that you stay with them that night. ALL night. I had caused so much trouble yet he wanted me to stay. Why? I promised myself I would find out.

In their bathroom, I splashed my face with water. After patting it dry, I started to work out the tangles in my hair. How could it be so (hair length) and have so many/few tangles? For the meantime, I let it do its thing. I'd offered to cook for Membrane, but he insisted on takeout instead. We ended up getting Mexican food.

"I could've fixed this, you know?" I huffed. I was sitting next to him with his children across from us.

"Yeah she could've fixed this. It probably would've been better." Gaz said, taking a bite out of her tamale.

Dib nodded. "Yeah, Dad. You almost never turn down (Y/N)'s cooking. You okay?"

I smiled at him and blood rushes to his face. Since I didn't want to use any other powers, I couldn't read his mind without physical touch, but it was clear to see he was still embarrassed from earlier. Maybe that was why, yet I doubt it. To be sure, I placed my hand on his. His heart hammered in his chest. I tried to read his mind, but it was blank.

"Membrane, are you okay?" I pressed a hand to his bright face. "You look red. Do you have a fever?" His mind was racing and it almost made me dizzy. I took my hand off of his head and stood up.

"I'm going to get you some water. Be right back." He was much taller than me, and his house was built accordingly. Even with a stool, I couldn't reach his cups. I sighed and tried using my telekinesis to get a glass instead. My hair flew up above my face as my eyes glowed white. In the back of my mind, I felt someone staring at me. Curious, I decided to half-listen to their thoughts.

"Ay, sus muslos son tan gordos. Quiero apretarlos." "Yo apuesto son suave también..." "Me pregunto que parecería en mis manos..."

What the fuck. I blushed immensely and almost dropped the cup on my head. I quickly caught it with my hand and filled it with water. I was happy I was wearing foundation so my raging tomato face seemed normal.

"Here's your water, Miguel." I said, placing it between us. He nodded and took a sip. We continued eating, talking about Gaz's wolves in Minecraft to Dib's fascination with the neighbor's dog. Sometime between the two, he got up to use the bathroom. I wouldn't think much of it... except Dib doesn't think in Spanish. Gaz is ace, and I sincerely doubt Membrane programmed horniness into his robots. He returned looking subdued. Like an animal just shot with a tranq. We finished dinner and the kids began to go to their rooms for the night.

"Should I go back home yet?" I asked, making sure it was obvious I didn't want to. He shook his head.

"No, not yet." He said quickly. "You're still too..."

"Unstable?" I suggested. He nodded. "Guess Im staying here for a few days again."

He sighed and moved to embrace me, but stopped. I moved his arms around me, saying, "It's okay. I can read you like a book, remember?"

He chuckled and pulled me close to his chest. The deep rumble made my heart soar.

"By the way, what were you calling gordo? Hmm??" Membrane froze and turned into a blushing mess.

"That's not what I no I didn't mean YOU were fat no you're not fat why would I even think something like that I mean I'm not that-"

"Relax, I was playing." I reached up and touched his face which melted into my palm. "But what were you saying?"

He tensed and shakily replied, "Your... your thighs. They're look...plump...and juicy. I want to hold them. To squeeze them." He made a groping motion.

I blushed and slowly pushed away from him. "Have you always felt this way?" He slowly nodded. Biting my lip, I took his hands in mine.

My leg hooked onto his waist and I pushed a hand onto my thigh. "Good." His heart rate sped up drastically. He looked at me for confirmation that this was real. With a nod from me, he squeezed my thigh.

"Lo sé." I grinned. He was legitimately excited.

"Want to continue this?" I leaned into him, purring. "Miguel~?"

Something hard pushed against my crotch. Finally. "Well?"

After a few seconds, he replied. "Y-yes. Please." I pushed him against the wall and groped his ass. It was firm and squared. Tight muscle. Fuck yeah. I pressed my knee up against his balls. He began to squirm under my grip. It seemed...cute, actually. I couldn't help but smile.

"Like that?" I growled. The tent in his pants grew.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

He bit his lip before shakily saying, "Yes, ma'am. Please. More~"

"That's right!" I pulled his head down and roughly kissed him on the lips. I licked his lips, seeking entrance, but he denied. Biting it, I forced my way in. Membrane moaned as we began to fight for dominance. Winning, I took the chance to explore all of his mouth. I ground my hips into his, further building the sexual tension. He moaned as I bit his tongue. Of course he's a masochist. I pushed my knee further against him, knowing it would work in my favor. We broke away from the kiss and my hands began to creep up his sides.

"I bet you're big, right?" I whispered into his neck. "I think you'll split me down the middle. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His grip on my thighs hardened, metal fingers starting to cause bruising.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Answer me, Papi."

A switch was pulled. He suddenly picked me up by my legs, forcing me to brace myself against his chest. He carried me down stairs and through hallways until we ended up at his lab.

He pushed everything off of a desk before slamming me down on it.

"Im going to make you scream my name. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be seeing stars." Oh, a dominant side?

"Yes, please." His lips crashed against mine once more. He scrambled to take off my shorts. After fidgeting with the knot, he unraveled it and pulled the fabric down.

"Ay, ¿que hice? Estas empapada~" His hot breath teased me through my panties.

"P-please." I whimpered. He stood up to his full, towering height. He dragged my body down onto the floor. Unzipping his pants, he guided my hands to his boxers.

"Hazlo." I bit my lip and smiled. I felt my head become light as I grabbed. He gasped as my spiritual hands began to jerk him off. The shaft twitched under the fingers.

"You can document this later, Miguel." I said. I now placed my physical hands on his dick. "Just focus on me~" My lips opened, and I started licking his tip.

He chuckled lightly. "Of course, mi zorra~. How could I not when you're so beautiful?" After a bit of preparation on my end, I took a deep breath and went to deep throat him. His head tilted back as he let out a breathy laugh.

"Just like that, cariño~. Tú sientes tan buena; yo voy acabar aquí~." He moaned out as I began to hum against him. His hand clutches my hair and he forced me to bob my head. I felt his dick twitch inside my throat. Recoiling back a bit, he came into my mouth.

I pulled away, cum dripping down the side of my mouth, and looked at Membrane.

"Buen trabajó, mi mascota~" He laid his hand on my cheek and I melted into his touch.

"Now, do I still have to sleep on the couch?"

#writing #membrane #professor membrane #professor membrane x reader

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har-rison-s · 5 years

Text

you've silenced the great richie tozier!

request: I love your writings! You said you will write for all of the losers? Would you write a Richie x reader where the reader is an even bigger trash mouth and he’s like oh thats super hot?

A/N: Bonsoir, ladies and gents. Saturday, 19:45. Starting a little earlier, yay. Really wanna finish this tonight. I've watched 3 horror movies today, jesus christ. + Now I'm home alone. Now it's Sunday, haha. My eyes are tired from crying (I watched Chapter Two again and cried everything out). But I wanna finish this, I hope I do. Yah, lol, I didn't even live up to my own expectations. It's Tuesday and I really hope I actually finish and post this tonight. Happy reading!

warnings: strong language, horrible jokes cause I'm no comedian in all actuality.

IT masterlist

main masterlist

gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me!

“Beats spending it inside your mother.” Richie's exclaims and raises a hand for Stanley to high-five, but the boy brings it down. Last day of school, the boys have emptied their school bags of their contents, and are currently sharing their summer plans.

“Oh, it's Y/N.” Eddie announces, he sees the girl coming towards him and his friends. “Hi, Y/N.” Eddie waves at her and Y/N waves back.

“Hey, virgins.” She greets them with a big smile. The boys respond with quiet “hellos”, and they expect Richie to respond with something in his style of conversation, but there's just a small “hello” from him, too. Bill shows his surprise, looking at Richie with raised eyebrows. Y/N senses the strange silence between the four and scratches the back of her head out of pure nerves. “Why are we all so stiff? Playing manikins?”

“Yeah, haven't heard of the new play? The plot is set in a clothing store.” Richie says, his tongue back to work. Y/N narrows her eyes at the boy.

“And I assume you'll be playing the guy who gets a wardrobe makeover?” She raises an eyebrow, and eyes Richie up and down. His friends laugh, and for the first time in his life, Richie doesn't have anything to say. Even his friends notice. “So, what are you guys doing today? Last day of school!” Y/N wiggles her eyebrows with a grin on her lips.

“W-we have thuh-the Bar-Barrens.” Bill informs her. “Y-You wanna come al-along?”

“Sure. I've got nothing else to do, anyway.” Y/N shrugs.

“You're so sweet.” Richie says sarcastically.

“No sweeter than your dad's tongue.” She shoots right back, which earns laughter from the other three boys. Richie's quite frozen on the spot from her quick response. He adjusts his glasses. There's many things to say, but none of them cross Richie's mind. And he hates to be losing at a conversation of this sort.

The group of five start to head towards their bikes, though Henry Bowers and his friends are unfortunately in the group's way. First Bowers pushes Richie into Stanley, which causes both boys to fall down. Y/N immediately runs over to them and helps the boys to get back up on their feet.

Once they're up again, Richie and Stan both thank her for it. One boy is more flustered than the other, looking at her with deep red cheeks. Confidently, and without shame, Y/N faces Henry Bowers and shows him her clearly pissed off expression. But the bully isn't looking at her yet. “Hey, Bowers!” She calls out to him. Eddie, Richie, Stan and Bill look to her in a contained panic, and the Bowers gang, all four of them, turn their attention to Y/N, and the main bully sees the angry expression on her face. But it doesn't intimidate him in the slightest. “The fact that you're a dick doesn't make yours bigger.”

“Are you crazy?!” Eddie hisses to her, but Y/N pays no mind to the boy. Eddie's clearly in worry about her further well-being. Henry Bowers starts approaching her, and she stands bravely between her friends, not intimidated. And even though she's not afraid of the bully, she knows she should have kept her mouth shut. Just like Richie, this curse of always spitting out jokes and insults, will get her literally killed one day.

“Your summer will be hell.” Bowers growls. “You'll wish you were never born, you slag.” He tells her.

Y/N still looks at the bully, her slight anger rising more and more in his eyes, and feels a tugging at her skirt. It's Bill, signalling for her that it's time to go, but she doesn't notice him yet. “At least I'm not a failure like you.” She shoots right back at Bowers.

“Fuck!” Richie curses and they have to grab Y/N and make her leave with them a bit forcefully. The only way she could survive now is just to run. She and the boys head in a quick pace to their bikes, they're running as fast as they can, the Bowers gang right behind them. Though it's a little hard for Henry to run when his legs are like wooden sticks.

Though Richie is scared to death to actually get caught by Bowers and for Y/N to have the same destiny, he's very impressed by her. She's just like him, but—wait, could that be possible?—a bigger trashtalker than Richie. Could that really be possible?

He's also a bit jealous of her, but mostly he finds this increased, female-version-of-him Y/N quite… attractive. And not just because she speaks the way he does and because their personalities are basically the same, but also because she's pretty. She's very pretty. Though he feels like her personality bests her looks (No offense, Y/N's face, he thinks). She's magnetic.

“Fuck, I forgot my bike.” Y/N realises a big detail.

“You can ride with me.” Eddie proposes, and Y/N nods. They try to get on their bikes as fast as they can, with Bowers right around the corner.

“Be careful, Eddie, she might give you cooties.” Richie says, already on his bike and waiting for his friends to get started.

“You've already got all of them.” Y/N responds before Eddie can, and the boys laugh, despite their situation.

Y/N gets on the back of Eddie's bike, and off they all go. Bill leads his friends the shortest way to the Barrens, they pedal behind him as fast as they can. Y/N hears Bowers yelling profanities after them, threats that he will find them and make this summer their last.

But the girl only laughs at his threats and yells, and that takes Richie's attention once again. He adjusts his glasses and grins at the girl. She's completely untouched by Bowers and what comes with the name, the fear of him is chained to his last name like a dog to a fence. She's reckless, and she's funny. She's got a strong spirit. And Richie digs that. He hasn't met a girl like her before.

At least one that hangs out with him and his friends, and is, on the inside, a good person. Y/N looks over at Richie. “What are you looking at, Tozier?” She asks. “Glasses don't work? I'm not Diane Lane, sorry, sweetheart.”

The other boys laugh, but Richie's reaction is lesser. There's only a smile on his lips. “You wish.” He says to her, and Y/N sticks out her tongue at him.

“You wish you were Matt Dillon, Tozier.” She says, and looks at the road in front of her, and Eddie's hair that gets in the way of this view.

Richie hangs onto her words, and doesn't want to admit the truth in them. He does wish so, Dillon's the biggest heartthrob of this decade. There isn't a boy who doesn't wish to be in his shoes, with his looks and his charm. Cause all the girls dig Matt Dillon.

“You like him?” Richie asks her, and Y/N turns her head back at him. She raises an eyebrow once again.

“What's it to you?” She asks. Richie pretends like he's thinking, thinking deeply. His hand on his chin and a far-away look in his eyes.

“Say, what would you do if I woke up tomorrow and I would be Matt Dillon? Look like him, talk like him.” Richie proposes an idea. “What's your action?” He raises an eyebrow and grins suggestively.

“You'd be in Hollywood, which is a thousand miles away, so… I wouldn't really be able to do anything.” Y/N says, shrugging.

“Take a left!” Bill yells from the front, and Eddie speeds in front of an appalled Richie. The glassed boy only stares after Y/N on the back of Eddie's bike. She's got a big grin on her face, and she even laughs at Richie. Once again, she's made him lose his voice.

“Ha-ha! I'm in front of you!” Eddie brags to Richie. The boy's always been the fastest, but not now. He can't even think of being at the very front of his friend group. It doesn't even seem to matter now, doesn't seem like the most important thing.

What does though, is how to out-smart this girl. But looks like she's always a step--no, correction--a joke ahead of Richie. She's out-sassed him, and Richie is blown away. No one's ever done that before. And a girl? Most girls these days can't even look guys in the eye without fainting or blushing red like tomatoes. But Y/N's different. And Richie can't deny that he finds her hot, and her snapping back and out-smarting him.

Through the time the Losers and Y/N spent together on the last day of school, most of it was spent listening to Y/N and Richie going back and forth with jokes, too-corny-to-be-used-properly pick-up lines and pop-culture references. Though Y/N mostly beat him down, winning the unofficial contest. And she left Richie with his mind blank and mouth hanging open quite often. Bill, Eddie and Stanley had laughed at their friend. They were thankful to have found someone who makes the all-powerful Richie Tozier stutter and actually doubt his superiority in the comedy business.

He became quite fascinated with her, and he couldn't even hide his blush when she spoke to him. Though he did try to hide it, she still saw the pink tint coloring his squishy cheeks. And she had laughed, but to herself. She didn't want to embarrass the boy more than she already had. But it did make her feel a little powerful to be able to do so.

“Oh, no, now I get it.” She had said, and Richie had looked at her. For some reason, he thought she'd have a genuine statement to make. “You're auditioning for the red dress in the play.” She had concluded, and left Richie with his voice stuck in his throat.

“With a pale skin like yours, you'll do great as the white one!” He'd soon replied, which earned him a splash of Derry sewer water on his legs. The boy had only laughed and looked at the magnetic girl with wondering, wide eyes.

“I'll do great as a vampire.” Y/N had responded, and made a face that was supposed to mock the mentioned creature.

“And live off other people's blood? Disgusting, but enticing.” Richie makes an i'm-thinking face.

“I think blood is much more valuable than relying on them to always laugh at your jokes.” Y/N had admitted, and that earned her a splash of grey water on her legs. She'd squealed, but with a smile, and given an even bigger splash back to Richie. He'd gasped, almost covered in the liquid head to toe, and looked at Y/N.

“You're dead!” He'd screamed and pin-pointed the moment all hell broke loose. More specifically, he broke the hell right onto Y/N. An intense water duel had begun then, which no one except Richie and Y/N took part in, finding the activity more disgusting and unnecessary than standing by and watching would ever be.

Permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella@inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16@mrsmazzello @benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @eddie-spaghetti-boi @radiantrichie @terratori812 @urban-dreams

#richie tozier #richie tozier request #richie tozier requests #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier imagines #the losers club imagine #the losers club imagines #the losers club x reader #har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s writings #har-rison-s work

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gascon-en-exil · 4 years

Note

rank the lachesis archetype

This is going to be inherently less entertaining for everyone involved because, with one exception, all the Lachesis characters are women and as such I have no frame of reference for how they might be in bed. It’s arguably even more awkward for me than something like the Camus or Jagen archetypes because a Lachesis is defined first and foremost by what might be called aspirational incest - how deeply she desires to fuck her brother. Anyway:

Lachesis: The original might be the most audacious, but because she exists against the backdrop of Jugdral where everything is just kind of like that it’s not nearly as scandalous as one might think. I’m totally on board with more recent portrayals playing up her obsession with Eldigan, a star-crossed love undeterred by any number of one-night stands with surprise pregnancies and/or an unsatisfying and probably sexless relationship with Finn wherein they bonded over the dicks of dead men they’d never get (again). She’s not!French, her promoted class is hilariously OP, and she does her messy best to be a mother to her children even though she’s definitely not ready for it or in a situation conducive to competent parenting. 9/10, not perfect but her successors would be hard-pressed to ever surpass her or her monumental legacy of incest.

Nanna: Lachesis Gen 2, literally. Codified the valkyrie as the class most strongly associated with this archetype as well as diversified their incestuous portfolio via her two predestined pairings: with her first cousin (and son of Eldigan) Ares, and with Leif who was raised alongside her as a brother. FE5 gives the nod to the latter and Leif/Nanna does indeed make more thematic sense in the context of the unification of Thracia, but I’m docking her a point since her more canon-endorsed love interest isn’t biologically related to her and because I like Diarmuid better can he be gay in the remakes please?. 7/10.

Clarine: Meh. Haughty and obnoxious without much to recommend her unless you like characters with that sort of personality, and now that we’ve moved on from Jugdral actual incest and for the most part pseudo-incest just isn’t in the cards anymore. To her credit she doesn’t go for either Perceval or Elffin even though both of them seem like they’d be ideal husband material for her. Instead, she appears to follow Lachesis’s lead and go slumming for men noticeably beneath her when she can’t get brotherly dick. 4/10, could be helped out by a remake with FE6 being as comparatively thin on characterization as it is.

Priscilla: As with many older Western fans she was my first exposure to the archetype, and it’s the oddest thing to me that she’s garnered something of a mild hatedom. I find her inoffensive for the most part; she may attempt to come between one of the GBA era’s seminal M/M pairings but it’s not like she succeeds, and there’s a certain satisfying verisimilitude to all but one of her pairings ending badly on account of her boyfriends’ lower social statuses. Plus, a healer and strong offensive caster on a pony is always fun - and she’s the best of those from the GBA games, beating out Clarine’s bad MAG, L’Arachel’s bad availability, and Cecilia and Selena’s...everything, really. Does FE8′s meta still favor mage knight!Lute? She could be a contender I guess. 6/10, I really don’t get why she’s so disliked.

Mist: An odd case of a Lachesis who belongs to the archetype purely on a meta level, one of Tellius’s numerous examples of taking a bunch of series staples and jumbling them all up for fascinating results. In Mist’s case this jumbling takes the form of one of the many relationship fake-outs between the two games. FE9 appears to favor her cutesy prepubescent connection with Rolf, only for the sequel to pair her up with Rolf’s big brother Boyd instead. Now how does this fit the Lachesis archetype? Well, Mist’s problem is that her actual brother is gay (or some kind of not straight where he’d not much be interested in plowing his little sister, really not the point here), so she transfers all that illicit sisterly affection onto a friend of her brother who’s similarly thick in more ways than one. 3/10, not a bad character, but she’s a strange Lachesis to discuss as such and each game screws her over as a unit in a different way that makes it very hard to appreciate her as the lone valkyrie in Tellius’s roster.

Leo: The token male Lachesis, awkwardly enamored of his busty big sister. It’s a shame that his incest subtext (well, that incest subtext - he’s still totally down for banging his adoptive sister because Avatar) was largely buried in the localization, but to be fair I don’t think it would have mattered that much when the guy’s got a bunch of other stuff going on. His male harem of retainers who do a very poor job of convincing anyone of their collective heterosexuality, for example, or his drama queen tendencies contrasted against those times when it feels like he possesses the lone brain cell of the Nohrian royals. He’s not even in FE14′s unisex valkyrie equivalent class by default, although it is in his secondary class set and it gets a lot of love anyway between his Gothic lolita little sister and his gender nonconforming son. And did I mention his weird thing with tomatoes? Like I said Leo has a lot going on; being one of the millions of men in-universe and out who fap to Camilla barely even registers. 5/10, a novel concept but he’s so much more than a Lachesis. Also, it barely exists in localization.

Clair: Not a proto-Lachesis or anything of the sort in FE2, more of a very mild Catria toward Alm. The remake presented us with Faye as one of the most disturbing takes on the Catria archetype, and Clair got a fresh new design and personality most strongly reminiscent of Clarine instead. FE15′s Clair does offer up one or two interesting new takes on Lachesis, mostly in how self-aware it all is and how she one-ups every woman on this list crushing on a guy with gay subtext by existing against the backdrop of the hotbed of homoerotic longing that is the Deliverance. She and Fernand out each other’s attraction to Clive, and even once he deserts them to find a man who understands him she’s still stuck in line behind Mathilda and Clive’s loyal, fawning subordinates (and Python). It’s up for debate who comes out worse in the end. Sure, Fernand gets betrayed and killed by his rebound, but at least he gets to die in Clive’s arms. Clair marries Gray, which continues in the Lachesis tradition of massively lowered standards. 6/10, a lot less annoying than Clarine and heavily embedded in some prime queer content, but on her own she’s just a bit above average as a unit, as a character overall, and as a brother lover specifically.

Three Houses unfortunately lacks a Lachesis, unless Wave 4 surprises everyone by tossing one in somewhere. If I had to squint very hard and pick one I’d say that Flayn comes closest to the archetype, as no fewer than three of her romantic support lines (Byleth, Ferdinand, Linhardt) invoke the specter of incest though it’s usually Crest-derived rather than standard biology. I wouldn’t call her a true Lachesis, but perhaps like the game’s nod to the Christmas knight archetype it’s meant to be a more understated thing.

#Fire Emblem #Lachesis archetype

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lavenderblossom74 · 5 years

Text

Things Like

SUMMARY: Sometimes, Dick forgets how much he has to be grateful for and how lucky he is to have Bruce. But sometimes, he also remembers.

Rolling down memory lane yay! This is an old one-shot of mine, hope you all enjoy!

After five years of living with the man, Dick sometimes forgets how truly lucky he is to have Bruce.

It isn't that there are times when he stops being appreciative, because Dick will always—always—remember the man who had been there for him when no one else had.

It's just that sometimes, Dick forgets the little things. The little things that so often become so normal that eventually they’re easy to take for granted.

Things like Bruce helping with a school project.

The scene: One of the many living rooms in the manor, the floor is littered with paper, popsicle sticks, pipe cleaners, puffy balls and of course, glitter.

Beside Dick, paint containers are spread out before him. Bruce in all his artistic vision holds a paintbrush (he’s the only person Dick has ever met who can make a paintbrush look intimidating)

“So I’m painting the words “Kinetic Motion” in blue, right?” Bruce asks.

12 year old Dick nods enthusiastically “Yes! Aaand…” There's a theatrical dramatic pause “I’LL SPRINKLE THE GLITTER!”

Bruce gives him an exasperated look before muttering something under his breath. Catching something about “glitter” and “death wish” Dick just grins as Bruce begins to paint.

“You have a very steady hand you know” Dick observes.

“Mhm” Bruce answers automatically, most of his attention focused on the poster board in front of him.

As he finishes up, Dick—as promised—happily sprinkles glitter with more joy than even a fascinated two year old would have.

Bruce is just glad Alfred put covered the entire wooden floor with layers upon layers of plastic.

After writing down the definition of Kinetic Energy in a sparkly green pen, Dick begins the fun of the party.

His assignment is to make a model that represents Kinetic Energy. So he decides it's a good excuse as any to make a roller coaster.

A roller coaster made out of an assortment of pipe cleaners, colorful popsicle sticks, fluffy puffy balls, and a whole lot of glue.

The rest of the night goes something like this:

“You just glued my fingers. YOU JUST GLUED MY FINGERS!! I’M GONNA DIE, I’M GONNA DIE. WHAT IF THIS GLUE HAS LIKE, WEIRD CHEMICAL PROPERTIES AND I GET A WEIRD BACTERIA AND OH MY GOD, MY WHELMED FINGERS! THEY WERE TOO YOUNG TO BECOME OVERWHELMED!! WHY DEAR FINGERS, —WHY??”

*Amused look from source of great panic* “You done?”

*Dick stares at panic source incredulously* “Am I done? AM I DONE! I WILL SHOW YOU DONE—”

Bruce cuts him off by calmly unsticking Dick’s fingers.

*gape* “You couldn't have done that before I went ballistic?!”

*Stare*

“Pipe cleaners hate me. This is a fact.” This is what Dick says as he stubbornly gives an innocent pipe cleaner the death glare.

“Really?” Bruce wryly asks.

“YES!” His charge exclaims. “I mean, is it my fault the stupid first hill has to be high so that the ball we send down can gain energy from it so it can continue the rest of the way? Is it my fault roller coasters are biased against poor 8th graders? IS IT MY FAULT KINETIC ENERGY EXISTS AND I HAVE TO DO A PROJECT FOR IT?!” By the end of his rant, Dick is standing up.

As Bruce sticks a puffy ball onto a pipe cleaner, he retorts, “Yes. You chose the model, didn't you?”

Dick opens his mouth to retort, then he closes it. “Whatever” he grumbles but sits back down and continues working in his roller coaster.

Bruce just smirks.

“Long was the haggard night. One blue eyed pre-teen (cough official teen cough) works hard to finish the project assigned by his torturer—teacher—that is due tomorrow. He is ready to drop dead from exhaustion and his stomach clenches in painful hunger but he valiantly continues his work. He will not back down, he will not give up, he—”

“—would not be here if he hadn’t decided to leave everything to the last minute.”

Dick glares at Bruce who shrugs innocently, “It’s true”

“Don’t intrude upon my enthralling narrations!” Dick whines.

Enthralling … ?

At Bruce’s look, Dick pouts. “Don't Judge!!” In a quieter voice he mumbles, “You’re just jealous I can use bigger words than you”

*Another look* I heard that

Dick pouts again. “Whatever”

After what feels like eons, the adrenaline starts to fade. Dick knows his previous excitement and absolute optimism are on their deathbed.

And it’s because this stupid roller-coaster-project-thing was so annoying! And frustrating. And mean. And a bully. And uncooperative. And generally insufferable.

He’s done all the calculations and the model should be working—the ball they are rolling should be able to continue the entire way depending only on the initial push… But it isn't!

Every time he tries to make it work with the pipe cleaners, is only another time he fails and becomes even more frustrated.

The solution is simple—it has to be—But Dick’s brain has become a slushy and is so mushy that he can't see the answer.

He’s ready to throw in the towel, crash on his bed, and forget about this dumb project.

But then his grade suffers.

And so does Robin.

Even after knowing Dick left school work to the last minute, Bruce hasn't said anything about grounding Robin but if Dick doesn't pull this project off and proves he can handle both his duties, Dick knows he will say something then.

Suddenly, Bruce nudges him. Dick looks up to an unreadable face.

“Go to bed,” Bruce tells him

Dick’s eyes widen in panic. Because he knows what's going to happen next, Bruce is going to say that in the morning, they're going to “talk” about how Dick needs to be more responsible and how he needs to prioritize. Then he’s benching Robin.

Dick opens his mouth to say that No, he can finish his project and sure maybe he was a little irresponsible but he’d done the actual research beforehand and honestly hadn't thought making the roller coaster model would've taken so long. It wasn't like he’d decided to be sleep deprived and frustrated on purpose!

Before he can anything in though, Bruce repeats himself. “Go to bed, chum”

Then he says, “I’m going out for a couple of hours; When I get back, I'll wake you so you can finish up and actually comprehend what you're doing.” Bruce stares at the roller coaster pointedly, “For now, just get some sleep.”

And so Dick sleeps. 3 hours later, Bruce—as promised—wakes him up and helps Dick finish up the roller coaster.

Dick had been right before—the solution had been indeed very simple.

Then, Dick heads to school and turns his project in.

Bruce doesn't mention anything about it afterwards nor does he give any reason to imply Robin is grounded.

Dick makes an effort to be more responsible with his school work from then on though.

It isn't until two months later that he finds out that the day Bruce helped him on his project was also the day he’d been awake for more than 24 hours already.

He also finds out that despite having two important board meetings that morning, Bruce had still kept his promise about waking him up and helping Dick finish the project.

---

Things like Bruce letting Dick rant about anything and everything.

Age: 10

Rant Topic: Spicy Foods

“It makes no sense! How come that food is so spicy, how come it makes your mouth feel like it's living fire, how come it makes your ears burn and feel hot n’ cold, how come it’s so hot, if it gonna be so good?! With the hint of lemon and the flavor it leaves in your mouth… Mmmm!” *Dick smiles to himself like a sap before snapping out of it* “... Exactly my point!! Why does spicy food enjoy torturing a kid like me?? I mean did I ever do anything against it? Who was the brilliant person who thought it would be an awesome idea to add hot spices to food anyway?!”

Bruce: “Do you need more water?”

Age: 11

Rant topic: The English Language

“In my humble opinion, English is a dumb language.” *as he rakes his fingers down his face* “I mean why are there so many rules?! Silent E, if it's beside a verb you say it's name, i before e except after c, ph makes a fffff sound… So complicated!! And half of them don’t follow their own rules half the time!! Toe-may-toe, Toe-ma-toe… Same thing!!”

Bruce: *shrug* “That’s why you learn other languages”

Age: 13

Rant Topic: Exams

“I’m done… Mark my words Bruce—are you marking them? I. Am. Done. DonedonedonedonedoneDONE!! My brain cells feel non existent right now… I am stressed beyond relief and I'm still nowhere near done with all these exams! It is impossible to retain all this information!! Who cares about random math dudes who found the formulas to life changing equations or the dates of every major event in history?! We aren't gonna need the info in life so why bother? Why does a test have to define you as a person anyway?”

Bruce: *in his most insightful voice* “It doesn't”

---

Things like sitting at the counter and simply eating along with Dick. An apple, a pear, a banana, a kiwi, baby carrots, a ripe tomato… no matter the fruit, the vegetable—just knowing that he wasn't alone… Sometimes that was enough.

Some of his funniest memories had actually happened at the counter.

Some of his saddest memories had happened at the counter too.

Some of the moments that didn't stand out, that weren't spectacular, that were just there—they'd happened at the counter too.

---

Things like playing a game of basketball with him.

Things like hiding junk food behind Alfred’s back (but at the same time not really since Dick suspected no one—not even the World's Greatest Detective—could hide anything from Alfred).

Things like taking Dick out when it snowed and helping him build a snow fort.

Things like quizzing Dick for his next Mathlete Competition.

Things like hearing about how Dick’s day went practically everyday and never complaining about it.

Things like everyday things.

Things that when Dick stands back and looks at his life—actually really looks at it—he realizes that he should not take for granted.

Things that make him understand how much luck he has in his life. Even after all the tragedy he has gone through, luck somehow found it’s way to stay.

Luck or Hope.

Knowing that there are still people in this world who care for him, knowing that a man he has learned to love and look up to cares for him so much that the care eventually feels normal…

Somehow, that feels like so much more than just luck.

---

When Dick silently enters Bruce’s study, the man looks up.

When Dick whispers, “Thank you,” Bruce blinks in confusion.

When Dick says, “Thank you for everything,” Bruce’s eyes slowly comprehend the meaning behind the words. And he smiles.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne is a good dad #dick grayson #batman #robin #batman and robin #daddy!bats #Dick being thankful for Bruce #fanfic #LB writes

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ellana-ravenwood · 6 years

Text

“Go away, you’re confusing my baby” - Bruce Wayne x Reader (x Clark Kent)

First, here are the fic where Thomas appears or is mentioned (just so you know who we are talking about : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper, Shaky steps and bad teaching and Polichinelle, you can find all those pics on my master list blog : ella-ravenwood-archives, I can unfortunately not link them anymore because of Tumblr who now makes posts with links not appear whenever you search the tags in the search bar. Second, this fic was inspired by an ask I received that said : “Because of their blue eyes and black hair Bruce and Clark could be mistaken for brothers maybe even twins if no one knew. Has Thomas ever been not sure which one was his dad and cries in frustration.”. I loved the idea so much I ended up writing this so..hope you’ll like it, and as usual, feedbacks are MORE than welcome :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

There was a time, years and years ago, when you first started to date Bruce, where you occasionally used to be a tiny bit confused about something.

Nowadays of course, it seemed ridiculous to you, but in the past...It was a genuine mistake.

After all, they look so much like each others ! And the worst thing is ? They don’t seem to realize it at all...

And yet your now husband Bruce Wayne, and his best friend Clark Kent, shared crazy physical similarities. You weren’t the only one who got confused.

Lois admitted to you that she did too, the first time she met Bruce (she thought it was Clark without his glasses)...And oh the number of times there were pictures of Clark in the paper under the title “Billionaire Bruce Wayne dresses like a commoner and visits Metropolis” (how rude, by the way) was countless !

Of course, if you’d pay just a little bit attention, you’d realize very quickly that they are different men. Bruce’s hair were better kept, less disheveled. He didn’t wear glasses, and he was...half an inch smaller. Other than that, dark hair, blue eyes, well build, they really looked like twins at times.

But if you don’t know them and they’re next to each others, it’s genuinely difficult to know who’s who. Or at least, if you thought they were brothers, no one would think you were being stupid.

Yup, back in the days those similarities plunged you in a few awkward situations. Oh man. So awkward.

At the top of your head, you can think of that time, at the Kent farm (you and Bruce would often be invited over there...It was a nice change of pace from Gotham and though you had to drag your then boyfriend often, it always ended up being utterly relaxing and nice), you went to who you thought was Bruce, but in fact was Clark, and wrapped your arms around his torso lovingly...just for him to turn around, as red as a tomato, and being all like “I think you got the wrong person (Y/N)”.

Of course, you withdrew very quickly, and both of you swore to never talk about this to Bruce, or he would never let it go...He was already so jealous of Clark and the fact that you and him used to be a thing.

Nowadays, you knew how to differentiate them even if their back was in front of you...They looked the same like that, except for a tiny difference...Clark was half an inch taller. Oh and his hair were less tended to in the back.

Another awkward moment that came to your head was that time, when Bruce introduced you to Clark and Lois (or rather, to Lois as you already knew Clark from before), and you and Lois got incredibly drunk and kinda went to kiss the wrong man...

You both went to the bathroom and came back to your very sober boyfriends and...You went to Clark, and Lois went to Bruce, and kissed them passionately.

Bruce pushed Lois away in a matter of seconds, while Clark, too stunned to react, took a little bit longer...In fact, your lover had to take you away from his wide eyed stupid face for you to stop kissing him.

And oh, you were so near from a diplomatic incident when both you and Lois said Bruce kissed better, even though Bruce didn’t even reciprocate his kiss to Lois (though, just like you and Clark, Bruce and Lois used to have a small fling, long ago, so maybe she was talking about those occurrences...).

To this day, Clark is still a little vexed about the all ordeal. No matter how much Lois tells hims she was drunk and didn’t know any better...

Yes.

The fact that your husband and his best friend look like brothers confused you a few times.

Whenever you didn’t have a good look at them for example, not noticing the difference in clothes etc etc...If the place was a bit dark, if you weren’t in your normal state (aka drunk...or sad, or overly happy), if they had their back to you, if they looked away and you couldn’t see their faces etc etc...At the beginning of your relationship with Bruce, when you couldn’t quite yet do a difference immediately just by looking a fraction of a second at them, and if they weren’t directly facing you etc etc...you used to mix the two quite a lot.

So when your son, Thomas, started to get a bit confused about who exactly his dada was...You really couldn’t blame him.

************

It all started when he was about six months old, and was starting to recognize people for how they looked, and not just with their voice (when he was a tiny infant and couldn’t properly see yet, he used to smile by just hearing yours or Bruce’s voice, it was so cute).

For some reason, the baby always smiled to Clark, even though his smiles would usually be reserved for his family members.

Like, Damian thought instantly that it was suspicious, and bothered Superman so much to know what he was doing to his little brother, what was his trick to make him smile !?

Of course, Clark just said that Thomas probably just liked his face, recognized him as a friendly figure, that is all...Damian wasn’t buying it at all, and whenever the superhero was around his precious baby brother, he wouldn’t leave him out of his sight. Just in case.

And you understood because even you thought it was a little odd.

So far, whenever Thomas saw someone he didn’t know, he just kind of looked at them curiously, as if he was studying them, and his lips never twitched up a tiny bit. Not even when Jon tried to make silly faces at him, or when Lois sung him a lullaby. Not when Diana rocked him in her arms, or when Oliver tried to tickle him (Green Arrow took it very personally that the baby didn’t even flinch from his merciless tickling...but then he remembered he was the Batman’s son and everything was good again).

Nope.

He was only giving smiles to his dad, his mom, the one he would called “grandpa” (Alfred of course), and his brothers and sister.

They didn’t even need to do anything, as soon as he recognized them, Thomas would just smile widely.

Dick was peering his face above his crib ? He would smile and more often than not burst into cute laughter. And if his oldest brother would pick him up and do acrobatics with him (loving how his father would freak out), he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing !

Tim would come into his bedroom, late at night or very early in the morning, after patrol, when he couldn’t sleep and clearly his baby brother couldn’t either as he cried, and even though he was hungry or had a dirty diaper, Thomas would smile at his sibling while Tim would take care of him.

Jason would put some music on (often classic rock...Thomas was VERY fond of Led Zeppelin and Queen apparently) and would slowly rock with him in his arms, and the baby would just keep smiling and cooing at his older brother happily.

Damian would come to talk to him about anything (he read somewhere that treating a child “like an adult” or something, would help him develop better), and Thomas, though of course he wouldn’t understand much of what was going on, would just smile whenever his brother looked at him while talking, and would hold onto his pinky (his all hand wrapping around it because he was really tiny) thoughtfully (making Damian think his brother was a genius and could understand him ! Though most likely, there was something on his face that fascinated the baby).

Thomas would just hear his father’s voice, and would instantly be happier, laughing and smiling...one of his favorite place was in dada’s arms, because he always felt safe and warm, and dada’s voice was so soothing, and his smiles were the best.

And mama ? Oh, you just had to look in his general direction for him to excitedly move his arms and feet around and smile at you in a very charming way (surely his father’s son), begging for you to pick him up and cuddle.

One of his favorite thing to do was to go around the mansion with Alfred, while the butler would clean the place, sometimes turning to his young master, who was calmly laying in a portable crib, telling him that he hoped later he would “clean after himself more than the rest of the family”, and wishing very hard that the smile that the baby was giving him meant that yes, he will.

And oh Cass ? His only sister was crazy about him, and it was reciprocal. If Thomas was crying for seemingly no reasons, out of frustration or anything like that, only Cassandra could cheer him up in a matter of seconds, by making silly faces at him. His laughter would always be so loud...

So it genuinely came as a surprise to all of you that Thomas would smile like that to Clark, even though he wasn’t that often around and such.

That day, when your baby son started to smile widely at one of your best friend, your suspicions about why started to arise. Of course, you didn’t have enough proof yet, except maybe the fact that before he could see properly Thomas never smiled to Clark, but...You were pretty sure of your gut’s feeling.

You didn’t tell Bruce though, because there was no need to “hurt” his feelings, or to make him jealous (in that way at least)...But you knew there would be a day where he’ll realize too that, the reason why his son smiles so much at his “Uncle Clark”, is because he thinks it’s his dad (which is also why whenever Clark starts to speak, the boy look a bit confused and scared, not recognizing his dada’s voice).

************

The day Bruce understood what was going on was when Thomas was about nine/ten months old.

Clark came to pick Jon up after the boy slept over the Manor, having a “pyjama party” with Damian and a few other friends.

And the man just couldn’t resist to go see his little “nephew”. That baby was just so damn cute, and so happy all the time, it was hard to think it was really Bruce’s kid...Well, come to think of it, he took after your smile so ya know.

Thomas was happily crawling around on the floor, a pacifier in his mouth, sometimes stopping to look at something that intrigued him (like that part of the ground that was soft and not the same color of the rest of the ground...later on, he learned that it was called a “carpet”, and man he loved carpets ! So comfy and funny !), when suddenly, he felt someone picking him up.

The baby thought about protesting for a few seconds, as he was having so much fun exploring the living room ! But then his eyes met his father’s and Thomas instantly forgot about his fun being cut short to smile widely at his dada ! So wide in fact, that his beloved pacifier fell on the floor.

But he didn’t care, because dada was there ! No need for a soothing pacifier when you can get the real deal of your father’s safe and warm arms, and great voice !

-I think he really likes you Clark, you’re the only one aside from Bruce and I, his siblings and Alfred, that he smiles like that to.

Thomas giggles as he looks towards where his mom’s voice come from, and coo at her happily. She smiles back at him, and as usual, the baby boy just feel a swarm of calmness and happiness.

That was cut short by an awful discovery. Something that shook his entire world ! What was that sorcery ?!

From the living room’s door, his father came in.

He knew it was dada because of the kiss he laid on his mommy’s forehead.

But how could he be in his arms, if he was over there ! There was only one explanation possible...Thomas turned to face the man that was holding him, and confusion swarmed him. It was the same guy, right ? It was...dada ?

But dada was over there !

There’s a few seconds of silence where Thomas is looking between Clark and his dad, beyond confused, getting more and more frustrated because he couldn’t understand what was going on...And then.

Then he realizes he’s not in daddy’s arms.

Daddy is the one kissing mommy.

And so his mouth slowly, oh so slowly, turns into a frown...And he starts crying like crazy. Scared.

Bruce rushes towards his son and takes him from his friend’s arms, glaring at him as if he was the cause of his precious baby’s distress (and in a way, he was).

Thomas instantly stops crying as he hears his dada’s voice. The real voice, the soothing and warm one. He grabs Bruce’s cheeks and...yes, that’s definitely dada. He smiles widely again, even laughing, out of relief.

You just witnessed all that and an idea you had walking in your head for a while now comes out of your mouth before you can think :

-I think he got confused and thought Clark was you, my heart. I mean, this would explain a lot.

Superman, who felt so bad because he doesn’t even know what he did to make the baby cry, says :

-Oh you think ? Haha, that’s so cute.

That would indeed explain a lot. Why the kid was always comfortable around him, but seemed to flinch a bit whenever he spoke, and such things.

Bruce, holding his son tightly against his heart, stared daggers at Clark and said, trying to brush those allegations off as if nothing, but talking too fast so that you and Clark know he’s jealous :

-Nonsense ! He knows who his father is !

You give your husband a mischievous smile he doesn’t like and say :

-Let’s do a test. Tommy, is this dada ?

Thomas turns to the direction you show and...He sees Clark.

Just like before, there’s a few floating seconds where he just stares at both men and...

In an instant, the little frown is back on his face, and he’s about to cry again, thinking he got somehow tricked once more and still isn’t in his dada’s arms, but Bruce’s voice resonates in the room.

-Hey hey hey, everything is alright little one, Dada is here.

Thomas turns to his father’s face, it still looks eerily similar to the other one over there but...maybe if he stops looking he’ll disappear ? Besides, this one has dada’s voice.

It is dada. He’s sure of it, as Bruce speaks soothings words into his ear and softly stroke his back, kissing his forehead softly.

Only dada did that.

Thomas knows now he’s in the “right” dad’s arms and calms down, to the point that he falls asleep, his head resting on his father’s shoulder.

Bruce gives a look to Clark that clearly means “MY son”, but doesn’t dare to speak in fear of waking up his boy.

Both you and Superman are utterly amused at his reaction, as it’s clear he freaked out that his own child was not recognizing him...It was quite cute really. You exchange a look with Clark that shows all the friendship shared between the two of you, and shake your head slowly.

Ah what a silly man you fell in love with.

**********

By the time Thomas knows how to walk, you are sure that whenever Clark is around, he’s very confused as to who his father actually is. Every time, Bruce just starts to speak hurriedly and the boy realizes he’s the real dada, but still...it’s odd for him.

It always makes you chuckle, same for your sons. But if there’s one that is not amused at all, it’s Bruce.

He hates it, in fact. Thanks God Clark doesn’t come every day to the mansion.

Today however, Bruce doesn’t think about that at all, as he’s spending some quality times with you and his youngest son. Lately, he has been very busy with some cases and barely saw you two...so he took a day off to enjoy your company. And oh it was well deserved.

You were all chilling in one of the living room, when you decided to play hide and seek. You were helping Thomas find his father back.

-Where’s dada Tommy ? Where'd he go ?

Thomas, now almost two years old, looks at you with sparkles of intelligence in his eyes. Proudly he exclaims :

-Dada ? ‘E sky ! Sky !

You can feel the smile crouching on your face as you realize what is about to happen, and even more when you hear, from behind the couch, your husband saying : “In...in the sky ?”.

Bruce, crouching in a very un-Batman way behind the piece of furniture, also knows what’s going to happen, and he doesn’t like it one bit. You ask :

-What is dada doing in the sky ?

Thomas, sure of himself, answers :

-Is ‘Uper’man !

You instantly start laughing way too loudly, as Bruce jumps out from behind the couch in one swift motion, and says, outraged :

-Dada is NOT Superman !!

This startles Thomas a bit because, where the Hell did Dada came from ?!

But then he quickly smiles, as always when he sees his dad, and reaches his arms to him to get picked up. Bruce does so and then says :

-Dada can’t go in the sky.

Thomas is confused. He thinks for a few seconds and then thoughtfully asks :

-Dada ‘owers b’oken ?

Bruce vehemently talks back :

-No ! Dada doesn’t have powers !

Thomas is more confused than ever, while you’re still laughing and Bruce is vexed.

Since when did Dada not have powers ? The boy is pretty sure he saw him on TV, flying ! And he also saw him with a different costume in Gotham, jumping from building to building, flying too with wings this time !

But the little one quickly forgets his troubles as he realizes his father is pouting, and seems unhappy. Thomas hates when his dada isn’t feeling well, and so he reaches for his cheeks, stroking it and smiling widely (it usually works to cheer dada up !).

Bruce can’t resist and smiles back, of course. But it quickly turns back to a frown as you say to your son :

-I understand your confusion baby, mama too had troubles differentiating them at first ! But let me tell you something, they don’t kiss the same.

Bruce narrows his eyes at you, knowing exactly what you’re trying to do and yet still falling right into your trap, and says :

-What was that ?!

You smile innocently at him and say, falsely surprised :

-What ? I didn’t say anything.

Bruce gives you a look full of fiery passion that sends heat low in your body as he says :

-Ooooh my love, when Thomas will go to bed, I’ll show you how better of a kisser I am. And I won’t kiss just your mouth.

You blush slightly, even if you’re used to him telling you things like that. You’re almost waiting for your boy to say “eww”, but he’s too young yet to know what it means, and none of your other children are currently around.

You laugh to hide your want, and kisses him fondly...

-Bah baaah, ewww !

A little voice exclaims, in between your bodies.

Thomas. He’s not old enough to know about everything, to understands the words, but his siblings’ reaction to his parents kissing taught him that it wasn’t something nice and so he protests.

You laugh some more and Bruce looks down to his son fondly. Damn he loved you and him so much.

************

Thomas is four years old and it’s his birthday party.

The entire league is invited of course, and they all bring great presents (you take away the bow and arrow Oliver gave him though...at four years old, Thomas was already showing great abilities with those things and you didn’t want him to hurt himself or his brothers and sister).

Your youngest son, as all of your other children really, is well beloved by your friends. Because he smiles so much, because he knows what he wants and doesn’t let people walk on his feet even though he’s still young (Barry still remembers when he teased him and took his action figure away, and how tiny Thomas tackled him, or tried to, and then proceeded to climb on him to get it back...).

He was a good mix of you and Bruce. Physically, he really looked like his father at his age, except for the eyes, that were yours. Mentally ? He was a bit of both of you. A perfect mix. The best of both sides. Though he unfortunately inherited your stubbornness...It meant that he was double stubborn. Oh boy.

But for now, he was just happily prancing around, playing with his siblings and his siblings’ friends (he was home schooled for now as his first day in kindergarten was awful...papparazis wouldn’t leave him alone, and one of the teacher even planned a “candid” photoshoot, letting them in the classroom...Thomas was quite a shy boy in environment he didn’t know, just like you, and he panicked and cried...When you saw the articles in the journal the next day, talking about how much of a brat he was with pictures of him terrified and crying because they were too many people around him, both you and Bruce decided to wait for him to be older to go back to school...therefor, his only friends were his siblings and his siblings’ friends, which was enough for him really, he loved them !).

At some point during the day though, the boy ran to Clark.

You saw him in the corner of your eyes. Bruce was in the kitchen, helping Alfred setting candles up and such, and you knew what was going to happen...

Once again, and for the hundredth time, your son was mixing up his father and “uncle”.

A little ritual of his and your husband, was for Thomas to run and jump on his dad’s back. Bruce would then proceed to run around the house, being the perfect “horse”, and your son would laugh his ass off. So much that sometimes, he’d choke on his laugh (which usually meant the end of the game)

And you saw, as your son was gathering some speed to be able to jump on his “father”. Only, it wasn’t his daddy. And when he jumped on him, Clark just jump in the air a bit and was surprised.

Until he realized it was Thomas and just picked him up properly, not understanding why the boy was pouting.

-Daddy, you’re suppose to be a horse.

Lois was next to Clark and turned to you, nodding, telling you that yes...Yes you were right, once again, your son got confused. She was holding her laugh.

Bruce chose that moment to come back, and when he saw his son in his best friend’s arms, he understood too. He trotted towards them and called for his boy :

-Thomas, come, it’s almost time for your cake.

Thomas jumped a little bit, startled. Why was his father’s voice coming from behind ?! But he wasn’t a small baby anymore, and he understood instantly what was happening.

This wasn’t daddy, he realized that now, as he spotted the classes and the messy hair. It was uncle Clark ! And so the boy made a face that made you burst into laughter (like a mix of “oops” and “gotta go”, sprinkled with a bit of “this is embarrassing”), and wiggled his way out of his uncle’s arms (his dad taught him how to escape someone holding him against his will, and Clark was super surprised when one second the kid was in his arms, the other he was running towards his father...he didn’t even feel him slip away !).

Thomas jumped in his daddy’s arms and gave him an apologetic look, knowing now how it kinda hurt him that he mixed him up with Clark...but they looked so much alike ! When he got excited, he couldn’t do a difference !

-Daddy isn’t Superman. You’re better than Superman. And you kiss better. Mommy said that.

Bruce narrows his eyes at you as you choke because of how much you laugh, but you can’t help it. It’s just so cute. And so funny. And oh that kid was such a parrot ! He continued, because he wanted to make sure his daddy knew that he loved him more than he loved uncle Clark :

-You’re also better at making lo...

-CAKE ! IT’S TIME FOR CAKE !

You yell, as you guessed what he was about to say. You swore to yourself to be more careful about what you say when your little one is around. He is truly a parrot ! Like a lot of four years old really...

Bruce gives you an amused smile, utterly satisfied with your tinted cheeks. Karma. You hit his shoulder lightly as your son’s attention is drawn to the cake that Alfred and Damian are bringing in, and your husband smiles fondly at you, giving you a quick peck.

Everyone comes closer to celebrate your boy’s fourth birthday.

************

By the time Thomas reaches the age of eight, he finally almost never does a mistake anymore. Sometimes it happens.

Either by genuine mistake, or just to piss his father off.

Like that time, when he was almost twenty, and for some reasons his dad exchanged his costume with Clark...Thomas could clearly recognize his father nowadays, and yet, insisted on calling Superman “dad” all day, no matter how much both men corrected him.

It made everyone laugh. Everyone, but Bruce.

But it was a rare occasion nowadays.

It took him a few years to not be confused anymore, but it finally happened.

And oh the memories of baby him crying because he was frustrated because he just couldn’t recognize who his dada was, or of toddler him being so sure that Superman was his daddy, or even of young child him, always jumping on Clark thinking it was his dad, or calling out for him from afar only to realize it’s not Bruce...It always made you all laugh.

Even Bruce, too be honest.

He had to admit, he does look like Clark.

And oh the souvenir of his baby’s face whenever he was utterly confused, the look of question in his eyes, and that cute little slowly building frown...it just made him feel warm and fuzzy.

Damn he loved that boy. And he loved you too much for really taking to heart your teasing...besides, you never teased him to the point of actually hurting his feelings.

In fact, it was you, who reassured him when he was freaking out about his son not even recognizing him. It was you rationalizing things and telling him that to his toddler’s eyes, you just looked the same. But hey, whenever he started to speak, didn’t Thomas instantly recognize who his father was, and always jumped to him ?

Oh you. What would Bruce do, without you in his life ?

The End.

________________________________________

This was supposed to be a mini-fic, but I got carried away, as usual. I feel like it’s boring...did you find it boring ? Or like messy ? I don’t know. I wrote this very fast in a spur of inspiration so...Eh. Anyway.

As usual, feedbacks are more than welcomed. See you soon with another story. Blah blah blah. Blah. The End.

Just in case some of you don’t feel like they look a lot like each others (though I agree they have differences...Like their hair is different, and Clark is like, half of an inch taller..AHEM) : as kids, they looked like they could be brothers, for real. Same facial structures and such, again, the only difference is their clothes and their hair :

Even people in their World confuse them. Here’s Clark, who “impersonates” Bruce (plus a sweet facepalm from Clarkie) :

And here’s just a good ol’ Clark Kent ya know...Oh wait no, it’s Bruce, wearing glasses because why not :

3K notes · View notes

ramblinganthropologist · 5 years

Text

Writober 8 and 9 - Crack Ship and Flower Shop

Summary: “Liara T’soni is a young, bright asari researcher. Alistair Shepard runs a local flower shop near her favorite cafe. When their paths meet, their destinies will intertwine. (don’t like, don’t read, Shepard x Liara, AU)” Some things just shouldn’t be.

---

To say it was a lovely day was an understatement. Outside, a brilliant azure sky glittered above her head as young Liara T'soni picked a brisk path down the street. It was time. She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest as she walked, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Her goal: the small flower shop near the cafe she frequented. It hosted countless species from across the galaxy, all tended by the loving hand of the shopkeeper. She could almost picture him now as she swung the door open, the bell up above jingling merrily as she stepped in.

“Oh, Liara. Welcome back!”

A soft, accented voice rang just as clearly as the bell. He was there, standing by some earth roses and giving them a good water from a dented metal can. Just the sound of his voice made her entire body shiver as she nodded, feeling her face heat.

“Good to see you, Alistair. Have anything new in?”

Alistair was younger than her – practically a baby in asari terms – but an adult by human standards. He had freckles and plenty of them that swirled across his pale skin like galaxies. He stopped his efforts to brush back a shock of violent red hair from his face, and those eyes.

She could get lost in those eyes; brilliant orbs of cerulean that always seemed to sparkle whenever she walked in the small shop. Liara wasn't completely naive to what that meant, but she like any other maiden was shy when it came to romance. One with a human was even more nerve inducing, even if he was handsome and charming.

He must not have noticed her hesitation, because he put his can down and walked over. “We just got in some flowers from Thessia. I think they might be what you're looking for.”

“From Thessia?” Liara gasped softly and held a hand over her bosom. “That must've taken ages, Alistair.”

The man smiled, lighting up his whole face in the process. “Oh, I'd say it was worth it. Come on, they're in the back.”

Together, the pair strolled to the back of the well lit shop, passing flowers from the various council races. Liara admired them all, taking in the sites of strange, cactus like plants from Tuchanka and the metallic sheen of lilies from Palaven. They glowed, dewy in the overhead lights, welcoming patrons in with their sweet aromas. Well, maybe not sweet for the Tuchankan ones – they made her nose wrinkle and she was quick to pass them by.

Leave it to the krogan to think something like that was beautiful.

“You have a way with plants, Alistair.” Liara still hesitated at saying the redhead's name so casually, even though he had said she could ages ago. Something about it just made her nervous. Luckily, he didn't notice. Maybe humans weren't that perceptive.

“I enjoy it, just like you enjoy your research.”

He stopped in front of a bench, then turned. They were so close, almost in touching range. Liara could practically hear the beating of his odd human heart, and hers soon matched as she gazed past him to the flowers.

“Oh, Alistair!”

The flowers in their pretty cyan vase were a deep shade of indigo, contrasted by a spray of small white blossoms that had been tucked in with an expert hand. Thessian blues, a rare species almost impossible to cultivate anywhere but on her home world, were just sitting there, waiting for her.

“Do you like them?”

She smiled, turning to him. “I love them! But how?”

The human chuckled as he threaded one of his thumbs into the belt loop of his jeans. “Let's just say I know a guy.”

He shifted, picking up the vase and handing it to her. “You said you missed home. I know it's not much, but I hope it helps.”

Liara's eyes widened as she clutched the vase close to her chest. She knew what it must have cost him to get them there, and how hard it was taking care of them. Anyone else would've buried the man in credits and then some. But he was just... giving them away.

“But... why?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Because I wanted to make you happy. Do I need another reason?”

Alistair's face was turning red as he turned away. “And... I'm not really good with talking to beautiful asari who come to my shop every day. Probably need more practice. You wouldn't want to help with that, would you?”

Blue eyes met. He was smiling nervously, cheeks flushed enough that his freckles almost disappeared. Liara would have dropped the vase if she hadn't steadied herself. The flowers found a place to rest on a nearby table as she all but ran at him, wrapping her arms around his strong but slender body. Only thin cotton separated them then.

Their lips met, softly, in the middle of the shop. He tasted like sugar and honey rolled into one. That chaste kiss was followed by another, a hotter one as his tongue asked for entrance into her mouth. She gave it happily, and the kiss deepened. Their tongues battled for dominance as if no one could see them there in the back of the shop.

She backed up – against the wall now. His hand roved lower, towards the zipper of her jumpsuit. It hesitated, though. Blue eyes found her and he broke the kiss. Both panted for air as they tried to form words.

“Maybe that was more practice that I intended.” His hand went to her waist instead. “I mean... yeah.”

Yeah was a good word for it. Yet with her beating heart, Liara found she couldn't complain much as she reached up to kiss Alistair again, her hand making a grab for the hem of his t-shirt so she could pull it over his head.

“I think it's a fine place to start. Now...” she looked around, finally spotting what she needed: a bottle of the gel that he used to keep cut plants alive when he was arranging them. “About that practice?”

---

“And then it fades to black... come on, kid, give us the juicy stuff! Damn it, that was the last update.”

Joker groaned as he tried to resist throwing his datapad – he probably would have broken something. Still, he was laughing as he turned to face the man in front of him. Alistair Shepard, definitely not anywhere near a flower shop, was as red as a tomato and hiding his eyes with his hand in the universal gesture of what the fuck. He looked about ready to disintegrate on the spot.

Excellent.

“Where the unholy hell did you find that?” One of those blue orbs the writer had been so fascinated by peeked out from between his fingers. “Please don't tell me you wrote it.”

The pilot scoffed as he held out the datapad. “Please, I would've included the part where you two had sex in front of a shop window. Found it on the extranet, there's like a whole subsection dedicated to you and Liara doing the nasty.”

Alistair's groan increased as he scrolled. “You have GOT to be kidding me. I don't even like women! Why the hell would anyone want to write me fucking Liara, she's practically like a sister to me!”

“Sex sells, and taboo sex sells more, Commander.” Joker chuckled as he swiveled in his seat to check the readings – all were holding steady at the moment, leaving more time to tease his commander about his literary exploits. “There's a whole week dedicated to your fictional sex life. Nobody ever gets the tattoos right, though.”

That was another blank look as Alistair glanced over the datapad. If looks could kill, they wouldn't have any problems with the Reapers. One dirty look from the savior of the Citadel would have been all it took.

“A whole week?”

There was a note of desperation to his voice, but Joker nodded. “And only one day with Garrus, surprisingly. I saw a lot of Bo, which was frigging weird.”

“Yes, that's the only frigging weird thing here.” He handed back the datapad, face still red. “I'm going to pretend you never showed me this so I don't lose the will to save the universe.”

After all, if he did that, they'd keep writing bad porn about him. And seriously, why the fuck was Liara so big when Garrus was right there and... what was the term, cannon? Fuck if he understood people's minds sometimes.

“Hey, at least they gave you a dick in this one. Though I'm pretty sure an asari wrote it, based on her take on your anatomy.”

Alistair gave his pilot the blankest look possible. “Because I totally want to hear you read about my fictional sex life with Liara T'Soni.”

“Hey, the one with Wrex was pretty fun- ok, ok, I'll stop.” Joker shook his head as he watched the man blush so hard he thought he might disintegrate. “Sorry, Commander. Better you hear it from me than find it on the extranet yourself. Least I can do a funny accent.”

Alistair was already at the door to go probably slam his head against the wall. “Right... thanks. I'm going to go drink so much soda I forget all of this ever happened.”

With a whoosh of the door, he was gone and Joker was alone with his datapad. Whoever ran into him next was going to be lucky he spoke at all. And really... he had showed him the mild stuff. The shit they got down to on the kink thread was … well, it earned the name.

People were weird, but hey – it was free.

#Yes I consider Shepard and Liara a crack ship come @ me #ramblinganthropologist's writing #writober2019 #Alistair Shepard

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relenafanel · 6 years

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Fic: The Day-Drinking, Sugar-Baby Detective Agency

This unrepentant piece of crack is for @ellebeesknees for her birthday. Based on a convo about these assholes:

And how they’d fuck their way to the top and then get bored without mental stimulation.

[note: I changed Will Franklyn to Bucky just because. Contains Stucky, and Thorki, and murder]

x.x.x.x.

"Can I be offended if I think she's cheating on me?" Bucky asked, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he poured a splash more rum into his mojito.

"Rum makes you maudlin," Loki reminded him, his voice tinny over speakerphone. There was the sound of water sloshing in the background, so either he was taking a bath, already by the pool, or his drink was larger than Bucky's was.

"And vodka makes me paranoid."

"So drink a beer."

"I haven't had vodka today," Bucky pointed out. "What I've had is no sex in 13 days and one obligatory phone call. If she's not cheating on me -- and her husband -- then she's rapidly losing interest."

There was a shhhhlct sound over the phone.

"Are you shaving?" Bucky asked in disbelief.

"Maybe some of us have let ourselves go," Loki pointed out in a dispassionately catty tone. "But not all of us have the luxury of not putting in the effort daily."

"Ok, whatever," Bucky rolled his eyes. "You know half of it you do for your own exacting preferences." It was an odd friendship between them borne from a game of 'younger relative or paid entertainment' played during a tediously monotonous party.

"Not all of us can get away with just trimming our pubes so our dicks look bigger and more uniform."

"Yeah, but not all of us get to just lie there and take it."

Loki was silent for a moment and then changed the subject, more of a sign that he was acknowledging the accuracy of that statement than verbally agreeing would be. "Do you have a back up plan if this goes south?"

"I have three. Lady Platten thinks I'm sweet."

Loki snorted. "All her wealth is tied into her late husband's estate."

Well. Not everyone could have a back up plan that included moving back into their childhood bedroom and still maintain their lifestyle. If Bucky was on his own he'd have to rely on his one published book to support him. He'd be living in a studio apartment and eating ramen in no time.

"Maybe I'll see if your mom wants company,” he told Loki.

"It'd be good for her," Loki agreed. "I will pay you to seduce my mother from my own trust fund."

Bucky made a face. That backfired.

x.x.x.

Loki called Bucky often, but he rarely called Bucky and demanded that he come over immediately for an emergency. Loki might be dramatic but he also liked his space, and he definitely wasn’t the type who needed suggestions on what to wear, so Bucky found himself responding by driving over to the large house in the richer part of town. Where they lived, parts of town were rich.

"What is it?" Bucky hissed after Loki gestured for him to be quiet the moment he opened the ornate door.

"Shut up," Loki said in a normal voice and then pulled Bucky through the door. He hadn't been to Loki's lover's house often. It was a huge monstrosity that made Bucky think of dick comparisons. His girlfriend's dick was smaller than Loki's boyfriend's. Loki's family had the biggest dick of all. It wasn’t really a secret that most of society figured Loki was slumming. "He's dead," Loki said, slamming the door behind him.

"Who?" Bucky asked in concern, his tone softening. Loki didn't get along with his family, but Bucky thought it was because he cared too much in an odd way. If someone was dead then Loki would be distraught, and it definitely explained why he’d call Bucky over. “Your father.”

"No," Loki corrected him impatiently. "He's dead."

Then he gestured across the open marble entryway into the living room, where there was a dead body very visible even from this distance. It took Bucky eighteen steps to cross over and look into the room. Then he stared at the body lying face down on the ground, completely naked. Blood had soaked through into the lush carpet, and it was dark as though it had time to dry. "Oh." Bucky said, and thought about how he could use this for his next book. "Gross."

“Gross?” Loki echoed, incredulously. “You’re the one who wrote about someone being impaled. I figured you’d be better with blood.”

“I didn’t realize you read my book,” he responded, walking around the body, careful not to touch the blood. “Did you check for a pulse?”

“Be more helpful,” Loki snapped.

“I didn’t even realize he could die,” Bucky pointed out, skirting the blood splatter. “He always seemed like the kind of asshole who could live forever.”

“I was here,” Loki said, his wringing his hands in that subconscious way he did when he actually was upset. “We fucked this morning, and when I finished showering he was gone, so I took a nap.”

“For 8 hours?”

“I know what it looks like,” Loki answered. “I didn’t do it.” He grabbed Bucky’s arm. “I’m not lying. You need to help me hide the body.”

Bucky considered that, rationally. He looked down at the body. He looked at the stained white carpet. He thought of the amount of staff wandering around the building. “We need to call the police.”

“No,” Loki said.

x.x.x.

Lieutenant Steve Rogers had a soft, sympathetic face. He didn’t blink when Loki bluntly said that the dead man was his sugar daddy, a term neither of them particularly used often because they weren’t into the kink of the term. He also didn’t treat either of them differently afterwards as he took their statements. His partner was a lot less respectful.

“I’ll be honest,” he told Loki after closing his notebook. The body had been removed from the room by the ME’s office. Bucky had heard someone mention that it looked like a poker from the ornate fireplace was missing. “It doesn’t look good for you. It would be wise if you started looking for a lawyer. A good one.”

Loki started laughing. He stood and paced over to the wetbar and poured himself a healthy sized drink, downing it in a few smooth gulps. “A good lawyer,” he repeated, and poured himself another glass.

Officer Rogers raised an eyebrow towards Bucky.

“His brother is Thor Odinson,” Bucky inserted.

It was the first time Lieutenant Rogers reacted to anything outwardly. “I know Thor,” he said.

“I imagine all of you know Thor,” Loki answered, saluting both of them with his half-full tumbler before drinking that glass down as well.

x.x.x.

Loki showed up at Bucky’s condo holding four shopping bags and wearing a scowl. “I just came from Odinson’s office,” he said, pushing his way through the door. He continued walking across the living room and down the hallway, dumping his bags in the spare room he sometimes slept in while drunk.

“It looks like you just came from Macy’s,” Bucky said.

Loki sneered like Bucky had said ‘Walmart’. “Yes, well, half my credit cards are currently frozen, and I’m not allowed back in the house. I’ll need clothes, and excuse me but I’m not wearing your spare pyjamas.”

Bucky had thought Loki would go home, not squat in his spare bedroom. “What did your lawyer say?” he ventured, sure Loki’s black mood couldn’t get any worse.

“After he finished laughing?” Loki snapped. “He told me I was screwed in a cheerful tone and then told me he’d save me in trial.”

Thor Odinson was one of the best defense lawyers in the country. Every time they were in the same room as each other, Loki verbally decimated him.

“Which means,” Loki continued in his sly, but stubborn tone. It was the same voice he used when he was plotting out which rich person he was going to seduce next. Bucky had a bad feeling about this. “I’ll have to make sure this never goes to trial. The police are useless, so I’ll have to solve it myself.”

Yep. There it was.

x.x.x.

Being Loki’s roommate in a one-bathroom condo was an arduous experience. He had a nightly routine and a morning routine, and in between both Bucky had been sleeping. Bucky felt like he was going to spend his life in a perpetual state of needing to piss and getting beat to the bathroom. He may as well be living with Becca.

“Ok,” Bucky said, uncapping the top of a whiteboard marker. He wrote “poker?” on the glass door leading out to his balcony. He’d been using the surface to plot out his second book, but it had been 6 months since he’d looked at it. “Did you notice it was missing?” he asked. Loki was just finishing making a batch of mimosas for their breakfast.

“Of course I did,” Loki said. “Someone gets stabbed and the first thing people do is look around for a weapon. There weren’t many other things in the room that could break skin.”

Bucky wrote the word Weapon on top of poker. He then stepped a foot over and wrote Motive? on the glass. Then below that he put Money? and then Enemies?

“Rich people always have enemies. I didn’t pay that much attention.”

“Ok,” Bucky said, and circled the word poker. “How are we going to find this, then?”

“I have some ideas.”

x.x.x.

Bucky had to call Lieutenant Rogers after the two of them found the missing poker in a dumpster two miles away from the house. Bucky couldn’t smell anything but garbage, his pants were covered in something noxious, and his white sneakers were stained with muddy water and grosser things. He’d probably need to take 8 showers and bathe in tomato juice just to smell normal again.

Loki looked just as awful as he did, but he also looked unbearably pleased with himself. Bucky had no idea how Loki lived the kind of charmed life that meant stubborn perseverance and a half-witted idea actually payed off.

“I’d ask how you knew,” Rogers said, observing the two of them as someone wrapped the poker in plastic behind him and started processing the scene. “But the two of you look like you’ve spent the day poking your heads in dumpsters.”

“Fascinating,” Loki replied in a deadpan. “You have basic observational skills.” Then his eyes narrowed at the alley entrance where an attractive man in an expensive suit was loitering. “Excuse me.”

“Don’t mind Loki,” Bucky told Lieutenant Rogers. “That’s just his personality. It grows on you.”

“I’m glad you called me,” Lieutenant Rogers said, and his handsome face looked so earnest that Bucky couldn’t take the words as anything other than genuine. “I didn’t expect you to keep the card.”

That had been one fight Loki lost, and Bucky figured the only reason he’d capitulated to calling the cops was how bad it would look if he took the poker himself. The cops had access to fingerprint databases and the like. “A handsome man like you?” Bucky asked and grinned.

Lieutenant Rogers blushed. “If I warned the two of you off of investigating this on your own, would you listen?”

Bucky didn’t bother denying it. He looked at Loki, who was leaning close to his brother and had his ‘mean and baiting’ expression on his face. Bucky had seen Loki in action when he’d been trying to secure himself a boyfriend higher in society the year before. He’d seen a lot of expressions. “No, sorry.”

x.x.x.

Bucky returned from visiting his girlfriend to find Loki sitting on the couch looking at printouts from something that was clearly pictures he’d taken from his phone. Mentally, Bucky sighed, and wondered if he wanted to ask.

“What are those?” he asked.

“The Grandmaster’s ledger,” Loki said, sipping at his drink and crossing his legs casually. “He wasn’t very good at keeping records. I’ve already picked out four discrepancies, and I’m only on page 13. I think his accountant was stealing 0.5% a month. Not enough to really raise red flags, but enough to afford a nicer apartment. Good for him.”

Sometimes Bucky forgot that the reason they got along was that they were both more intelligent than the people around them, but then Loki never really let anyone forget that he was singular. “Did you break into the house?”

“I have a key,” Loki pointed out in a clear ‘these incompetent idiots didn’t change the locks’ tone. “It’s hardly breaking in.”

God, they were both going to go to jail. Bucky sighed out loud. “We should tell the police.”

“You can tell Lieutenant Sexy if you want.” Loki gave him a knowing look and took another sip from his drink. “I haven’t found anything that points to a reason for murder. If anything, I’ve just found a lot of reasons to keep the man alive for as long as possible.”

Bucky pulled out his phone so he could give Lieutenant Sexy a call. That name was definitely going to stick. “It hardly points to murder,” Rogers said once he heard Bucky out. Loki’s face did his insufferably smug expression that made Bucky grit his teeth. “But there might be something there. Can Loki provide me with the combination for the safe?”

Bucky looked at Loki. “Numerical representations on a keypad of the words Purple Rain,” Loki said in a bored tone.

“I’m on speaker?” Rogers inquired, and Bucky could almost hear the raised eyebrow. “Stay out of the house, Loki.”

“Absolutely, Lieutenant Sexy,” Loki said. “Best behaviour, cross my heart.”

“Goodbye, Bucky,” Rogers said, and it sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Bucky liked him a bit more for that.

“So that’s your type,” Loki mused once Bucky hung up the phone. “Rich women and men who know how to use their guns.”

x.x.x.

Bucky made the unfortunate discovery the next day that Loki’s type was Thor Odinson. The sight of them making out on Bucky’s couch would forever be seared into his eyelids.

x.x.x.

Bucky didn’t think it was a good idea to go to the funeral, but Loki lived for drama, and Bucky secretly enjoyed drama, and so the two of them put on their nicest suits and went to the party.

The night was kind of a blur of the two of them being side-eyed, alcohol, and Loki elbowing someone so hard in the solar plexus it sounded like a rib cracked. After that, he had no idea how he ended up pressed against his best friend’s side in the back of Lieutenant Sexy’s police car. Bucky feared he might have called the man. His crush was becoming detrimental to his lifestyle.

“It’s natural to be upset,” Lieutenant Rogers said to Loki. “Just stop maiming people who call you a murderer, and everything might be ok.”

“I’m not upset,” Loki corrected. “I’m inconvenienced. The old bastard had to go get murdered before I could move on.”

“We’re considering money as a motive.”

Loki visibly rolled his eyes. Bucky could feel it.

“Which means,” Lieutenant Rogers continued with a sharper tone. “You’ve moved down the suspect list. Your personal net worth is only about ten million less than your boyfriend’s had been.”

Only? Christ. How rich was Loki?

Lieutenant Rogers and Bucky’s eyes met in the rear-view mirror and they shared a ‘can you believe that ridiculous sentence?’ moment.

x.x.x.

On day seven of staring at the whiteboard, Bucky had an epiphany. Loki had just emerged from the bathroom, and the living room smelled of steam, his shampoo, and enough body lotion to drown a small child.

Bucky had ended up pissing in the kitchen sink, and he was pretty furious about it. Not that he ever washed dishes, but that wasn’t the point.

“Maybe we’re thinking about this wrong?” Bucky suggested as he stared the murder board with a scowl. The word Weapon and Motive were blurring together. “What if Jeff Goldblum wasn’t the target?”

“Who do you suggest, then?” Loki asked, pursing his lips. The drink in his hand went mostly untouched. “Me?”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “To ruin you and get you sent to jail? Yeah, that could be a motive.”

“Ah.” Loki considered it. It looked like he was doing complex math in his head, like the meme. “Call Lieutenant Sexy. I know who did it, then.”

x.x.x.

“I’m single,” Bucky blurted out over the phone when Lieutenant Rogers personally called him to let him know Loki’s suggestions had panned out. “I mean, I have a girlfriend who bought me my condo and who expects me to service her once a week, but for the rest of the time I’m single.”

“Oh,” Rogers answered, sounding surprised. “I didn’t realize you were interested in men.”

“I’m more nuanced than that,” Bucky said. Mostly he just liked people who could protect him. It wasn’t that nuanced at all. “Do you want to go out sometime?”

“Sure,” Rogers answered, which also surprised Bucky, because he’d basically outright outlined the fact that he wouldn’t be giving up his lifestyle in order to date and Lieutenant Sexy was ok with that. “Do you like mini golf?”

“I’m crap at it,” Bucky said.

“Me too, but the place here has the best ice cream and a nice view of the ocean.”

“I love ice cream,” Bucky replied with a grin he could feel in his cheeks.

“I’m off on Tuesday,” Rogers replied.

“Tuesday it is, then.”

x.x.x.

“I’m moving in with my brother,” Loki told him, throwing all his new clothing into a plastic bag. “Give these to charity,” he said, then looked Bucky up and down. “Or keep them.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and wondered: Was Thor the love of Loki’s life or another sugar daddy to piss his family off?

He also wondered if Loki even knew.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Loki replied. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 4pm—” which was practically mid-morning for them. “We’ll go see who else your girlfriend is up to.”

“I’ve never been on a stakeout before,” Bucky mused. “And we are good at this.”

“If we can solve a murder, an adulteress should be simple.” Then Loki grinned, sly and like he was enjoying himself. “Bring drinks.”

#the day drinking sugar baby detective agency #stucky #thorki #bucky barnes #loki laufeyson #fanfiction: drabble

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dreamingoffairys · 6 years

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Teardrops & Coffee Chapter 8 (Stingue)

Okay, okay, I know, I know. You're all screaming at me. I'm aware I've sucked at keeping an update schedule. I'm totally awful I'm sooo sorry. The good news is I got a lot of new ideas now, so updates will be faster by a lot! (HUUUGE THANK YOU TO @little-miss-heartfillia WHO HELPED ME GET INSPIRED! THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO YOU!)

In case you forgot what happened last time, Rogue asked Sting out for dinner, so this is going to be their... "date", if you can call it that, heehee...

Speaking of the previous chapters! PLEASE RE-READ CHAPTER 6 UNLESS THIS IS YOUR FIRST TIME READING THROUGH THIS FIC! I edited a bunch of stuff there because before it was far too dramatic and over-the-top for a mutual pining college au fanfic.

Okay I'm done babbling now! I hope you enjoy this long awaited chapter, and I realllly hope it was worth the wait (it's over 4k words just for you guys!).

Please reblog with nice tags, leave a reply, shoot me an ask, or message me! I’d love to hear what you think, it’s your kindness that keeps me going and keeps me inspired, and that’s why I came back to this fic at all.❤️❤️

AO3 LINK HERE

Sting's hands won’t stop sweating. He adjusts the collar of his dress shirt for the fifth time, still wondering if it is a bad idea to wear pink. He is also wearing eyeliner, which makes his deep blue irises pop, however gives him an edge. The gel in his hair is a bit shiny, which ends up also being a cause for concern. In fact, everything in Sting’s outfit is stressing him out. He has to look perfect for his first date with the guy of his dreams… Well, first not-date-that-is-probably-a-date. But that’s close enough for Sting. He is willing to take whatever he can get with Rogue.

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of a knock on his door, adjusting his collar one final time before dashing to get it. He throws open the door, beaming and trying to hide his extreme nerves. “H-Hi Rogue! R-Right on time, I see!” Sting laughs nervously, hoping that Rogue didn’t notice Sting isn’t ready.

Rogue smiles back politely. He is dressed in a black collared shirt with a gray sweater vest over it, his hair tied back into a neat ponytail. Sting’s knees were ready to melt from underneath him: Rogue really does dress like one of those stereotypical hot nerds.

Rogue looks at Sting with kind eyes, “You look really nice.”

“Th-Thanks,” Sting laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was worried the pink would be a little bit...much...but uh...I did it anyways.” Why can’t I ever stop talking around him? I keep making a fool of myself!

“I think it suits you,” Rogue compliments Sting with ease. Sting has to replay Rogue’s words three times in his head before comprehending him, nodding quickly as a hot blush spreads across his cheeks. However, the soaring movement his heart made drops when Rogue speaks up again, “However...where are your shoes?”

Sting looks down at his feet and finds only the cuff of his crisp skinny jeans and one white sock. The shy blush turns to embarrassment, holding in a yelp as he rushes back into the dorm room, “Ah! Sorry! I somehow...forgot! Be right back!” Dying of shame, Sting pulls on his shoes and left sock and rushes back out to meet Rogue. “S-Sorry.”

Rogue laughs, “Not a problem.” He takes a step back, “After you.”

Sting exits his dorm room and shuts the door, shaking slightly with every step. They walk in silence for a long moment, the hallways filled with tiny bits of noise that keep it from being too awkward. However, once they reach the elevator and the doors close, the quiet is no longer acceptable. Sting knows he has to make his move. “So, where exactly are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Rogue replies with a smug smile, wanting to keep Sting in the dark for as long as possible.

“Oh, okay, cool,” Sting nods, heart sinking. Shit. There goes my conversation topic. What do I do now? Quick! Think of something! “Uhm...you look really uhm…” Fuck… “...fantastic.” Does that sound too gay? Shit! I should’ve said uh...no...that wouldn’t have been much better either.

Rogue laughs, smiling with his teeth, “Thanks. You do too. I really like the eyeliner. It makes your eyes really stand out.”

“That’s what I was going for,” Sting says hastily, trying to hide another round of blushing. He runs his fingers through his gelled hair, hopefully not messing it up. The door to the elevator finally opens with a loud DING, and Sting watches as Rogue exits without fault. Sting tries to copy him, but instead stumbles over his own feet. He laughs to himself out of nerves, hoping Rogue didn’t see. Thankfully, he didn’t...either that, or he just pretended not to notice for Sting’s pride’s sake.

Rogue leads Sting out to his car, climbing into the driver’s seat, then waiting with a smile as Sting sits shotgun. “Music, Sting?” Rogue asks, reaching for the stereo. “I’ve got mostly classical, but if you’d like something else, I’ve got an AUX cord for your phone…”

“N-No, classical is fine!” Sting stammers, despite not liking classical much. His music taste is pop that good for dancing to or scream singing at the top of his lungs. Not very attractive. So instead, he leans back against the seat and listens to a song with some string instruments as Rogue drove them down the road to wherever they were going. The car ride is awkwardly silent, but Rogue didn’t seem to mind, smiling and listening to the music with a small smile.

Finally, Rogue pulls up in front of an Italian restaurant, one known for being nice without being too expensive. Rogue parks, turning to Sting with that cute little smile again. “This okay?”

“It’s perfect!” Sting says in a rush, starting to unbuckle his seatbelt. “I’ve never been here but I’ve heard good things about it.”

Rogue steps out of the car, then moves to Sting’s door. He offers Sting his hand, and the blond takes it, blushing brightly. “I’m glad then that I get to take you for the first time.”

The two of them approach the double glass doors of the restaurant, Rogue holding the door for Sting yet again, making Sting feel kind of like a dick. Rogue is being quite the gentleman, and what’d he done? Showed up to the door with no shoes, tripped over himself, didn’t make very good conversation…he really didn’t deserve Rogue.

“Table for two?” asks the hostess, grabbing two menus.

“Yes, please,” Rogue replies, smiling at Sting. Sting’s heart skips a beat. He’s so handsome.

The hostess nods, “Right this way.” She leads them through the restaurant, giving Sting a moment to take in their surroundings. The smooth marble floor, etched wood walls, lots of flowers, soft jazzy piano music, candle-like lighting…it felt very romantic. This had to be a date…right?

They reach a polished table with two plush red booths on either side, the table tucked in a corner away from most of the noise. The hostess sets down the menus on the table, and Sting and Rogue slide into the booth across from each other. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” says Sting, trying to be polite since so far he’s been nothing but an annoyance.

Once she leaves, Rogue’s attention turns to Sting. He doesn’t even open his menu, watching as Sting opens his and starts to scour the specials. “Sting?”

“Hm?” Sting hums, eyeing a fancy-sounding sandwich. Grilled tomato, chèvre, thyme baguette… What the hell is chèvre? How do you even pronounce that? Is there even meat in this damn thing?

“Are you willing to let me surprise you with something?” Rogue drums his fingers on the polished table. “There’s something here I really enjoy, and I think you’d like it too.”

Sting looks over the menu, giving up on the stupid chèvre thing, and meets Rogue’s eyes. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

“Like I said, it’s a surprise.” Rogue’s eyes twinkle playfully. “Do you trust me? I promise it’s not gross.”

Sting bites his lip in thought. Rogue didn’t know his food preferences all that well, so maybe it wouldn’t be something Sting would like… But on the flipside, if this is a date, and getting something together would be really romantic. “Uhhhh…”

Rogue chuckles softly, “Is that a yes?”

“You know what, what the hell,” Sting says, closing his menu and dropping it onto the table, cringing at the sound. “Might as well take a risk.”

“Great,” Rogue smiles. “You don’t have any allergies, right?”

“Just bees,” Sting says immediately without thinking. He watches as a smug smile starts to spread across Rogue’s face as he tries to hold back laughter. “What?!”

“Your name is Sting, and you’re allergic to bees?” Rogue snickers.

“Trust me, I’m aware of the irony,” Sting rolls his eyes. “I prefer to associate my name with like…the sword from Lord of the Rings, or the band from the guy that used to be with The Police.”

“You keep surprising me more and more,” Rogue rests his chin on the palm of his hand. “I’m glad you and I are both nerdy people. I don’t know if I’d be able to stand you if you hated Lord of the Rings.”

“To be totally honest, I haven’t read the books,” Sting admits. “I started reading Fellowship and then there was like 60 fucking pages about the Sackville Bagginses or whatever and I got so bored and confused.”

Rogue laughs, “Yeah, the beginning of Fellowship is a real headache. Although the book does have some things the movies don’t that are fascinating.”

A young woman with purple hair walks up to them, holding a notepad. “Hi, my name is Laki, and I’ll be your waitress for tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Hey, Laki,” Rogue smiles. “I’ll take an iced tea.”

“Uhh…” Sting feels himself flush. He hadn’t gotten a chance to look at the drink menu, since Rogue had said he is going to order for both of them. “Err..what kind of drinks do you have?”

Laki smiles, but Sting still feels bad for asking. “Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Lemonade, Iced Tea, Raspberry Iced Tea-”

“I’ll just take a Coke,” Sting says hastily, not wanting to put the poor waitress through any more. “Thank you.”

Rogue looks at her, “Is it alright if we place our order now too? We’ll do the the Double Special.”

“Of course,” she smiles, jotting that down. “All set. I’ll be back with those drinks.” She turns and walks away, her heels clicking on the floor.

Sting flushes. A nice restaurant, alone with Rogue, sharing a meal… He had to ask, he had to know, he couldn’t sit here in confusion for any longer… He’s going to tell Rogue that he-

“So, Sting,” Rogue asks, cutting into Sting’s thoughts, not noticing Sting’s mental turmoil. “I was wondering something. You, of course, told me about your mom...but what about your dad? Do you get along with him?”

Sting starts for a moment, not prepared for Rogue to say anything. For a moment he mentally screams at himself for not speaking quickly enough, but then he registers the question in his head and feels a lot better. ‘This I can do! I love talking about my dad…’ Sting grins at Rogue happily, “Yeah! My dad’s the best. He’s super supportive of me, and he’s always been so much fun. We’ve played card games together since I was old enough to understand them, he taught me sports and a lot of stuff about computers, and we used to fix up the house together.” Sting feels a nostalgic smile cross his face. “Yeah...I love him a lot. Without him, I’d be so lost...he’s always been there for me, no matter what bullshit I was dealing with, you know?”

Rogue’s cheeks are lightly dusted with pink, eyes glued on Sting’s face. “That’s really wonderful. What kind of card games did you play?”

Sting rubs the back of his neck and looks away, embarrassed. “Errrr...well I mean, this was when I was a kid, but…I was...really into Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh.”

Rogue chuckles softly, “No need to be shy about it. Gajeel loved Pokemon too, though he’ll never admit it.” Rogue shrugs, “I read books more than I played games, but I played a little Pokemon with him. My favorite was always...I think its name is Umbreon?”

“The Dark Type Eeveelution,” Sting blurts out, then turns redder. “Uhm...b-but yeah, that’s right.” He looks down at his lap, his ears burning. Oh, damn. Now I look like a child.

Rogue laughs a bit louder, “Yeah, that one. Which one was your favorite?”

Sting shifts in his seat, anxiety clawing at his throat. Why is this making him so nervous? “Dratini… It’s so cute, and so is Dragonair, and then Dragonite is really strong…” He blushes darker. “Yeah…”

“Here’s your drinks,” Laki walks up to the table and sets down their drinks and their waters. “Your food will be out shortly. Anything else you need?”

Courage. The ability to flirt. Some answers. “Err, nope!” Sting laughs. “I’m all good.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Rogue smiles at her, and she nods and walks away.

Sting’s chest feels tight. Here’s another chance. “S-So…” he manages to say, then shuts his mouth as the panic sets in. ‘I...I can’t do it. I can’t ask. If he says no it’ll be so embarrassing...especially with everything he’s told me…!’

“So?” Rogue replies, that smile still on his face, but this time the look is more than just polite. There’s admiration in his eyes, warm and kind, enjoying himself in Sting’s presence.

Sting studies Rogue’s face. Fuck. His one visible shining red eye, his silky black hair, that warm smile… Rogue almost seems like he’s glowing. Sting had to ask him. He had to tell Rogue how he felt. He couldn’t afford to lose this...Rogue is too special.

And so….he takes a deep breath, and blurts out, “Rogue, is this a date?”

Sting’s heart leaps into his throat. He actually said it! After all this time of nerves and shit, and he’d just blurted it out effortlessly! Why had he been so afraid before?

He watches as Rogue’s mouth curls into a wider smile, a blush on his cheeks. He still looks like he’s glowing...how beautiful . “Of course it is. I really have fallen for you, Sting. You’re my everything. I’d love to date you.”

“You would?” Sting squeaks, his heart pounding. ‘Ohgod it’s happening-!’

“Huh?” Rogue looks at Sting in confusion, his voice sounding different all of a sudden, the glow completely gone, “I would what?”

It is then that Sting realized he’d completely imagined that scenario. Thanks to his nerves, he’d started daydreaming about what he wished could happen. He sighs, feeling ashamed and deflated. “Nevermind…” he mumbles, reaching up for his drink and sipping it. The bubbles tickle his tongue, and the sweetness is almost overpowering.

When Rogue frowns, Sting feels like his heart shatters. “Are you sure..? It seemed like what you wanted to say was important…”

“Forget it,” Sting takes another sip of his drink, then forces a smile. “I just forgot what I was gonna say. It’s not a big deal.”

Rogue drinks a bit of iced tea, then sighs softly. “If you say so…”

Sting bites his lip, but before he can try and make up something to ease Rogue’s worries (or at least thank him for being concerned), Laki walks over with a covered tray. She smiles at them both, setting the platter onto the table and uncovering it, revealing a huge bowl of pasta accompanied by two pieces of garlic bread. “Carbonara for two?”

Sting has no idea what the heck carbonara is, but it looks tasty, and the smell makes his stomach growl. He pushes aside the fact that they’re splitting a bowl just like in the romantic movies for a moment and instead leans forward to smell it.

Rogue smiles up at Laki, still looking at Sting out of the corner of his eye. “Thank you so much.”

“Enjoy,” Laki replies, then walks away, her heels clicking on the fancy floor.

“Sooo...what exactly is it?” Sting asks, grabbing his garlic bread first. “I mean, besides pasta, obviously.”

Rogue grabs his fork and twirls it. “Carbonara is a pasta dish with egg, pecorino romano cheese, pork, and pepper.” He lifts it up towards his mouth and grins. “And it’s one of my favorites.”

Sting makes a mental note of that as Rogue takes a bite: spaghetti, egg, some cheese, pepper, and pork...okay! He takes a big bite of his garlic bread, then sits it back down on the plate. “Sounds delicious.” He grabs his own fork and twirls it the way Rogue did (or at least, attempts to, as he has do it a couple times before getting it right) and then lifts it to his mouth and takes a huge bite. He feels like his taste buds are exploding as a wonderful flavor touches his tongue. “Mmmm…oh man, that’s-” Suddenly realizing he is talking with his mouth full, he blushes and swallows hard. “Ahem. It’s really good.”

Rogue laughs, and Sting realizes he isn’t grossed out by his bad manners. “Isn’t it? It’s fairly easy to make, too. There’s some really easy recipes online. I’ve made it a couple of times just in the dorm kitchen. I always ended up splitting it with people because they all loved it so much, haha.”

I would love to try yours… Sting thinks dreamily. If there is one thing that he loved more than attractive guys, it is attractive guys who could cook. Instead of voicing that thought, he shoves more of the pasta into his mouth, relieved that he now had an excuse to be quiet. He’d already chickened out twice on asking Rogue if this is a date...maybe a little bit of silence to think would help.

Rogue twists the pasta around his fork slowly, that same endearing smile still on his lips. “I’m glad you like it. I was a bit worried you wouldn’t care for it and then wouldn’t have a good time. A risk I’m glad I took, I suppose.”

But why did you take it? Sting wonders silently. Is it because it’s a date and you wanted to be romantic? Or were you trying to impress me or something? Because you don’t have to...I was impressed the moment I laid eyes on you. In comparison, I’m kind of a nobody… If anything, I should be working on impressing you.

For a moment, Sting could’ve sworn he saw Rogue blush, but it fades as soon as it appeared. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep talking at you while you were trying to eat.”

Sting swallows and finally finds his voice right as Rogue takes another bite. “Rogue, you’re fine. I like hearing what you have to say. You’re interesting, and funny.” Wow, that was stupid.

Rogue coughs slightly, then swallows his pasta. “You think so?” Sting nods quickly in response, and Rogue reaches for his iced tea. “Thanks, Sting. I appreciate it.”

Sting blushes again. “Mhm!” he manages to say with a mouth full of pasta, then scarfs more down.

The two of them are then silent until the plate is completely clear, both of them having ate their fill on pasta and bread. Their drinks are almost empty as well, as they are both broke college students and don’t like being wasteful.

Eventually, Laki comes with the check. “Here’s your bill,” she says, placing it on the edge of the table. “Thank you so much for dining with us tonight.”

As she walks away, Rogue reaches for the check holder, and Sting has to scramble, “W-Wait, shouldn’t we split the bill?”

Rogue looks Sting right in the eyes, “Well...I thought I’d pay, since I invited you…”

Sting’s heart skips a beat. He isn’t quite sure how the whole stupid, heteronormative “the man pays to be a gentleman on the first date” thing works for gay couples, but to him this seemed like Rogue is implying it is a date. Should I ask…? Say that if he considers it a date he can pay? Or would it be nice to offer to pay for myself? What do I do?

“Uhhhhmmm…” is all Sting can bring himself to say, his palms starting to sweat. He watches helplessly as Rogue reads the bill, then slips their debit card into the check holder and places it back on the edge of the table. Too late now…

He finds that he feels guilty about it when Laki picks it back up to swipe the card, so he mumbles out, “I can pay you back…”

“No,” Rogue leans forward a bit. “There’s no need, Sting. It’s my treat.”

What does that MEAN? Sting screams mentally, but has no time to ask because Laki returns at that exact moment. Damn! It seemed like the whole damn world is against him getting to speak his mind.

Rogue retrieves his debit card, then stands up and looks at Sting. “Ready to go?”

“Where?” Sting asks, joining Rogue on his feet. Realizing that was a stupid question (aka, one that implied they were going somewhere other than back to the dorms), Sting quickly tacks on, “A-Ah, sorry, I’m tired.”

“Actually, I was thinking we could take a walk in the nearby park?” Rogue suggests as they walk out of the restaurant together. “It’s a nice night, and I wanted to talk to you for a little bit longer.”

“About…?” Sting asks, having trouble breathing. The world felt like it was spinning underneath his feet, and he swore Rogue could hear his heart beating.

Instead of answering, Rogue leads Sting down the block to a nice park with a sparkling water fountain, beautiful rose bushes, carved wooden benches, and a few tall oak trees. The ground underneath their feet is brown and red patterned stone, but nearby are numerous patches of soft green grass dotted with wildflowers starting to close for the night. The cool night air blows Sting and Rogue’s hair in front of their faces, and the light of the setting sun bathes them in a soft gold glow. The water of the fountain reflects the pink, orange sky streaked with thin white clouds, almost like something out of a painting.

All of Sting’s nerves vanish. There is nothing to interrupt them now. The moment is so...perfect. It feels like something out of a romance movie...a love confession at sunset in front of a fountain, surrounded by roses...yes. He felt certain now that this is a date, and that any moment now, Rogue is going to confess his feelings for Sting. Finally, the uncertainty, the fear, the nerves, the anxiety...it will all come to an end.

“Sting.” Rogue’s hair blows away from his face, showing off both of his narrow, shining red eyes, looking at Sting with admiration. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Sting’s heart beats a mile a minute, and he’s sure there’s a stupid, lovesick grin on his face. “Y-Yeah...what is it?”

Rogue opens his mouth when suddenly his phone buzzes in his pocket. Rogue groans and digs his hand into his pocket, “Dammit, hold on a second.” Frowning, Rogue pulls his phone out and looks at it. Sting watches as Rogue’s face goes from annoyed to shocked, then texts something quickly. “Shit. Shit shit shit !” He looks up at Sting, concern written all over his face. “I…I’m so sorry, I have to go. Right now. Thanks for coming, I had fun, I’ll see you soon!”

With that, Rogue shoves his phone into his pocket and takes off down the sidewalk.

Sting’s heart shatters. “W-WAIT, ROGUE, HOLD ON-! YOU DROVE ME HERE!” he screams, starting to chase after him. He suddenly realizes he has no idea where Rogue went, and by the time he remembers what street they came from, it’s too late… Rogue’s car speeds by the sidewalk, way over the speed limit, and disappears around the corner.

Tears fill Sting’s eyes as emotions flood through him all at once. Heartbreak, anger, desperation...until it all finally resolves in pure, unrestrained hysteria. “FUCK YOU, ROGUE!” he screams, stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “YOU’RE A FUCKING ASSHOLE! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!”

Sobbing uncontrollably, Sting storms back over towards the fountain, his legs too weak to stand for much longer. As he collapses onto a bench, he realizes everything around him that once seemed so perfect and beautiful looks absolutely sickening now. The roses slowly closing seem to taunt him, as if reminding him that all good things must eventually come to an end. The sound of the sparkling water fountain as it bubbles and spills into the basin sounds like his tears splashing down his cheeks. The tall oak trees bend and creak in the wind, as if mocking his own fragile state. Even the sunset, once romantic and hopeful, now fades into black.

Defeated and drowning, Sting puts his head in his hands and curls into himself. He sits there too broken to move until the final beam of sunlight disappears from the sky, then picks himself up and takes the long walk of shame home, swallowed up by the night.

#my writing #ftfanfic #ftfanfics #ftlgbtales #stingue #stingro #sting x rogue #sabertooth guild #gaybertooth #mlm #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfic #mlm fanfic #teardrops & coffee #tdc chapter 8 #stingue fanfic #rogue cheney #sting eucliffe

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