#it's like a live tinder date but like for celebrities

[hertzwritings]

A plot

A/N: Do I have issues? Yes. Is one of those issues being shadowbanned? NOT ANYMORE, BABYYYY! I’m going to celebrate with some solid Bucky-stuff. Enjoy! Prompt: “Well, that was plan A and B. Now what?” “Have I told you about plan Z, yet?” 

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized something – the sky is the limit, and it would really help me out with my bills this month.

Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine, in particular), and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits because I am me and I have none.

 MASTERLIST

SEBASTIAN STAN MASTERLIST

PROMPT-LIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

 Pairing: College!AU Bucky Barnes x female reader

Contains: language, Steve, Sam and Bucky being absolute NERDS, fluff, smut (MDNI), fingering, praise-kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), cream-pie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, Bucky being a vocal fucker, overstimulation, biting, mentions of drinking, Bucky being HOT

W.C.: 6.279 (whoops)

 A plot

  “Okay, but I’m just saying, hypothetically, would you murder someone for me?” You asked Steve with feigned seriousness. “What the hell kind of question is that?” “A very important one to our friendship, Steve.” “Okay, yes, I guess I would.” “Okay, again, hypothetically, could that someone be James?” He frowned and put his controller down. “Dude…” “I’m just saying, I gotta know where on the friendship-scale I am!” You held your hands up in defeat. “Actually, that’s a good question, that I would also like the answer to.” Bucky interjected, looking up from his phone. “I need to know if I have to sleep with one eye open.” Steve rolled his eyes. “You two are damn idiots.” “You love us.” You said with a grin. “Jamie, are you ever going to get off tinder?” “Nah, I haven’t reached the final boss.” “Pfht. Nerd.”   “He’s not a nerd, he’s a whore.” Sam retorted without looking up from his book.

How you ended up in the same room as certified nerd, Steve Rogers, actual BirdwatcherTM Sam Wilson and notorious playboy James “Bucky” Barnes was beyond you. You knew Sam from years back, and when he introduced them to you, you were sure you’d just straight up hate each other. But no. They had accepted you so quickly, most people found it weird – not many people were granted the VIP access to the Sam/Bucky/Steve-experience, and you had heard several chatters around campus that you were sleeping your way through them. You scoffed at that. You knew you were fully in when you beat Steve massively in Call of Duty, although he vehemently denies it. Sam won’t let him live it down.

If you even thought about sleeping with Steve, bile rose in your throat. It would be just as weird as doing the devil’s tango with Sam – Bucky, though, was an entirely different story. Not that it mattered, because he was not interested in you, and you weren’t really one who had a lot of friends, so you refused to let your minor crush get in the way. Even though Bucky often reminded you of a shaggy rescue-dog from the pound. It might hurt just a little that he was on Tinder and doing his best to date literally anyone but you, but you tried not to let it get to you too much.

“Oh, shit. Can you guys go to the kitchen and grab me some of those cookies?” Steve asked through gritted teeth, tilting his controller and his eyes narrowed at the screen. You glanced at Bucky, who just shrugged. “Why would we need to be two to get you cookies?” Steve glanced at Sam, who was staring at Steve with an unreadable expression. “Oh, uh… Because I also would like a Gatorade.” Sam said. “You could just get off your lazy ass and get one.” You replied but stood anyway and gestured for Bucky to stay in the bed. “I got it, it’s fine.” “You sure? I’ll be more than happy to carry something, doll.” You smiled at him and winked. “I’m a big girl, I have two hands. I got it.” You missed the boys exchange a look – Bucky wasn’t aware either, because his eyes were trained on your ass when you left the room. You did however hear Steve grumble something suspiciously like idiots in love when you left the room, and something like a hard-back book hitting a face, followed by a disgruntled fuck you, punk. Life with the boys.

 Two days later, you were sitting under a tree in the campus-garden, your head on Bucky’s legs and his fingers carding through your hair with his flesh hand, while his metal one kept a tight hold on the book, he was reading. You never asked about it, and he didn’t tell you – not that it mattered much to you, because Bucky was Bucky, and the metallic sheen that always followed him was a part of that. The sun was warming your body and when you looked at Bucky, you saw light freckles spread over his nose. It was cute. “Steve asked me something weird the other day.” He mumbled. You looked up at him. “You too?” Bucky frowned. “Wait, he was weird with you too?” You nodded and his fingers stilled in your hair. “Yup. I’m serious. I don’t know why he’s so invested in my love-life.” You replied. “God, right!? He’s been all up in my business lately, Buck, did you delete tinder? Bucky, have you considered that maybe what you’re looking for is right in front of you?” He imitated Steve’s voice. “He’s acting like I’m dying in a week.” “How weird. He asked me if I had ever considered dating someone from our friend group.” You felt the heat on your cheeks. “And I told him we’re like four people, Steve, and I’m one of them.” You both sat quietly for a moment. “Do you think Steve is trying to set me up with one of you?” You mused. Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. Steve’s weird. That’s why he’s an art major.” You laughed and closed your eyes, when Bucky’s fingers began moving through your hair again. “He is weird, isn’t he?” “Just like you.” You scoffed. “I’m not weird.” He chuckled. “Liar. We literally had an hour-long conversation about if I would still love you if you were a sour gummy worm.” You nodded. “It was very important to know!” You laughed. “And if I recall, you were the one who told me I’d look great as a blue and pink gummy worm, and that you didn’t like sour gummy worms, so you were sure you wouldn’t eat me, but just keep me in your pocket at all times.” “And I stand by that.” He grinned at you. “Steve even agreed that you’d be a cute gummy worm.” “Steve is wise like that.”   “Also, he’s very in love with Sam.” Bucky stated. “Oh, I’ve never seen anything like it.” You laughed. “He’s simping so hard, it actually hurts to look at.” “They’ll figure it out in their own time. Sometimes it takes a while to see that friendship isn’t all you want, you know?” You did. “Yeah.” It was quiet for a moment, before Bucky’s phone rang. “Yo, Steve, what’s up?” You could hear the muffled sound of Steve talking, and Bucky frowned and looked down at you. “Wait, seriously?” You frowned too and sat up. “No, I mean, sure, she can… I just… They literally just did that, right? Isn’t it weird that’s it’s already…” He sighed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let her know.” He hung up and looked at you. “It looks like you have to stay at our place for a while.” “Wait, what?” you pouted. “It smells like ass in your place, no offense.” “Offense very much taken, I try to keep a clean house, I’ll have you know.” He sighed and tightened his bun, blowing a few strands of long hair out of his face. “Anyway, your roommate talked to Steve, for some reason, and your place is getting fumigated.” “Again?” You groaned. “I can’t deal. Literally. Bugs. Again?” He shrugged. “Steve said you’re welcome to stay at our place.” “Thanks. I’ll just call him, hang on.” You pulled your own phone out and saw a few messages from your roommate, telling you to stay very far away from the dorm, because it was nasty as hell and smelled like death. Great. You called Steve. “Hi, Y/N.” “Hey, uh… Thanks for letting me stay while my place gets fixed up.” “Yeah, no issue. I mean, we don’t have a spare room, so you probably have to bunk with Bucky.” You frowned and felt heat rise on your cheeks and neck. “Uh… You have a couch, Steve. I’m not stealing Bucky’s bed.” “Oh. I just thought that maybe…” He trailed off and you heard whispers in the background. “Yeah, cool. Uhm, I think you still have a few t-shirts here from last time, so… You guys just head on back when you’re ready.” You smiled. “Sure. Thanks, Steve. I’ll cook tonight as a thank you.” You hung up and immediately clutched your phone to your chest, when Bucky shouted happily. “YES!” You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What? I can’t eat Sam’s shitty Mac’N’Cheese again.” You laughed.

At the boys’ place, Steve and Sam was leaning over the rackety table in the kitchen, heads close together. “Are you even sure, that they’re into each other?” Sam asked carefully. “Yes! I’ve heard both Bucky and Y/N be like oh, but we’re just friends so nothing can happen. I’m telling you, they’re idiots in love.” Sam sighed. “Well, that was plan A and B. Now what?” Steve grinned wickedly. “Have I told you about plan Z yet?”

 You happily cleaned the dishes from dinner, humming a song under your breath, while the boys were discussing softly in the background (“No, I’m not saying that Garfield two should have won an Oscar, I’m just saying…”) and you glanced back at them, catching Bucky’s eyes. He smiled softly and looked away; his cheeks tinted pink. “Okay, boys, while I love your discourse on movies that deserve an Oscar, but was rudely stripped, like Barbie and the Nutcracker, I need the couch. I’m dead-tired.” Sam nodded and stood, while Steve gasped. “BARBIE AND THE NUTCRACKER!? Take that back, we all know it should’ve been Barbie of Swan Lake, you heathen!” Bucky shook his head at Steve. “Come on, if we’re talking Barbie movies, you all know that Barbie as the princess and the pauper is superior. I will die on this hill.” You all groaned. “I’m not entertaining this discussion. Y/N, can I borrow you for a little bit before we go to bed? I just need your help.” Sam said, shooting Steve a very pointed glance. “Uh, sure…?” You followed Sam to Bucky’s room, where you shifted your weight a little from foot to foot, a little weird about being in here without Bucky. “Sam, what are we…?” “Oh, don’t worry, he just keeps the extra blankets and shit in here. It’s under the bed, can you get it? I’ll find the extra sheets, those are in Steve’s room.” You nodded, albeit a little confused. “Dude, your division of stuff is strange.” “It’s not my fault, I said we should’ve used the closet in the hallway, but those two assholes insisted on keeping their old roleplay-stuff in there. I have way too many hobbit-capes and swords in my closet for my liking.” He grinned. “Be right back.”

You got to your knees and started looking for the extra blankets but couldn’t find any. “Not that I’m complaining about the view, but uh, Whatcha doing in here, doll?” You yelped and jumped a little, knocking your head against the bedframe. “Shit, ouch!” You rubbed the spot, and Bucky hurried to your side. “Fuck, sorry, baby, I thought you heard me come in!” He gently helped you to your feet. “It’s fine, I… Sam said the extra blankets were in here.” Bucky frowned, his hands still on your arms. It made you feel warm. “Uh, no? The blankets are in the box in the living room, what the…” You both turned to the door, where Sam and Steve stood with wide grins on their faces. “Sorry, kiddos, but you two need to talk!” Steve said, laughing a little, before they shut the door and a suspicious scraping sounded from the other side. Bucky rushed to the door, but it was jammed from the outside and you both groaned. “Guys, seriously?” “We’re watching a movie downstairs, and we can’t hear anything! Call us if you need the bathroom or something like that!” Sam’s voice was muffled by the door. “You’re assholes!” You yelled back at them but didn’t get a reply. Bucky sighed and sat down on his bed, patting the spot between his legs. You obliged easily, sliding onto the bed and between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. “Do you know what they meant?” You asked after a few moments. “No, but I rarely understand what the hell Steve and Sam are scheming about. Do you remember last year, where they tried to be all sneaky and weird, and we didn’t understand that they were trying to make sure we both were here for the birthday party?” You laughed. “Yeah, they are pretty shit at doing whatever they’re trying to do.” Bucky wrapped his arms around you. “What do you think they meant by need to talk? We talk all the time.” You asked, but your phone buzzed before Bucky had a chance to answer. “Oh, it’s from Steve.” You read it out loud.

Golden retriever: topics for conversation: gaming. Y/N gaming in buckys red henley. buckys lack of tinder. Why there’s a lack of Tinder. If you are in love. Who you are in love with. Kinks. You sighed as another message ticked in, this time from Sam. Bird-lover: PS: We’ll turn the tv up a LOT so don’t worry we won’t hear anything. Promise. Bucky huffed. “They’ve got some nerve.” You flipped through an appropriate meme to respond with. Female God: 

Bird-lover: Love you too Y/N. One day, youll thank me.

You sighed and threw your phone at the end of the bed, before sitting up and turning to face Bucky with a feigned serious expression. “Jamie. This is very important.” He cleared his throat and his face fell into the same, feigned seriousness as yours had. “Yes, Y/N?” “What are your kinks? And if it has anything to do with bodily fluids, I’ll jump out of the window.” He laughed. “Uh, I mean, I like…” He blushed. “No, fuck you, I can’t. I need beer for that conversation, Y/N.” He jumped off the bed and quickly grabbed two beers from the mini fridge, twisting the caps off; you swallowed thickly at the sight of his arm tensing. He handed you one and sat back down. “I think we should start with something easier.” He said quickly. “Oh?” “Yeah.” You took a sip. “Like… We could talk about you in my red Henley.” “I wore it once, there isn’t much to talk about, Jamie.” “Once was more than enough. It’s yours, now. You need to stop calling me that, by the way.” He said with a smirk. “Why?” You asked, slightly confused. You’d always called him Jamie. He shrugged. “It makes me feel all… gahj.” “Gahj?” “Yup.” You laughed. “Dully noted.” He took a sip from his beer, before his blue eyes found yours. “I’m not going to stop, though, I’ll just be more aware of your face, Jamie.” And sure enough, the corners of his mouth twitched, and he flushed. “You’re an ass.” “You love me.” “Yes, you are my little gummy worm.” You both laughed at that, and conversation flowed easily from there.

When you had emptied the fridge for beers, and even dipped into some weirdly thick vanilla-liquor Bucky had standing in a shelf, the conversation turned. You were feeling warm and tingly, when you laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Seriously, you never answered my question.” He laid down next to you. “Which one? I refuse to answer the question of whether Steve is a top or a bottom, I’m not scarring myself with those mental images.” You chuckled. “No, about your kinks. You blushed, and now I’m curious. And a little drunk.” He chuckled. “Man, that’s… You really want that conversation?” You nodded and turned on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “Seriously! I want to know what makes you tick. Or tack. I don’t know what way you swing.” “I swing the personality-way.” You frowned. “Wait, are you pan?” You asked with a surprised smile. “Yup. I mean, my sexuality is like a faulty revolving door. I go all the ways.” You roared with laughter. “Jesus, alright, good for you.” He grinned. “I thought you knew, actually.” “No, but I’m not surprised.” You answered with a shrug. He cocked an eyebrow at you. “What? Really? Most people see me as straight as an arrow.” You laughed at that – Bucky was many things, but straight wasn’t one of them. “There’s no way in hell I’d ever call you straight. Dude, you know the entire soundtrack of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I would be surprised if you were straight.” “Okay, everybody should know the entire soundtrack of that one!” He said with a huff, but then a soft smile fell on his lips. “Seriously, you’re not like… Weirded out by it?” “James. No, why would I be? Sexuality isn’t a one size fits all.” You smiled at him. “I like you for you.” You smiled at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “I also know you’re trying to deter the conversation, and I’m not having it.” He groaned and turned himself, so you were face to face. “Okay, fine. But it’s something for something, just as an FYI. If I have to tell, you do to.” You nodded. “Fair enough. You tell me one, I’ll tell you one.” “Cool. Do I have to start, though?” You rolled your eyes. “No, I can start, you wimp.” You drew a deep breath. “Okay, I like… praise.” He frowned. “Like… Good girl?” You bit your lip and tried your best to ignore the little, horny goblin somewhere in the back of your brain, that began dancing the macarena as soon as Bucky said those two words. “Yup. Among others.” “Like what?” You lifted an eyebrow at him. “Nope, that’s not fair. You need to tell me something now.” He sighed. “Fine. Okay, judgement-free zone, right?” You nodded. “So… I, uh… I like breath-play.” Your clit throbbed. Shit. This might’ve been a bad idea. “Like… Receiving or giving?” He gave you a devilish smirk. “Oh, giving, 100 precent.” “Oh.” “Your turn.” “No judgment?” He shook his head. “I like the whole… Like, primal thing? You know, biting, marking?” He smirked. And that’s how the conversation went, until you were nearing dangerous territory – you were wet just from talking about it with Bucky, and you had somehow drifted closer to each other, and the kinks had shifted to general (Bucky was apparently a pleasure-dom, which both didn’t surprise and surprise you) to something that was very specific. Like Bucky had a kink for your hair color. “Okay, I like long hair on men. I don’t know if it’s a kink, really, but it really gets me going, you know?” You whispered and couldn’t hold back your hand, when it went to tug on his bun. He groaned a little and it shot heat straight to your core. “Uhm… I, uh… I have a very specific kink.” He whispered. “Mhm?” He drew a deep breath. “You.” You stopped breathing. What? “I’m sorry?” “Yeah. I have a Y/N-kink. Why do you think I haven’t been on Tinder?” “I thought… I don’t know.” “Is it okay? That I have a Y/N-kink?” he asked softly, his hand slowly sliding up to cup your face. “If it’s okay that I have a Bucky-kink.” You answered just as softly.

His lips touched yours hesitantly, slowly, and almost as if he was scared; you sighed into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours, and he smiled into the kiss, pressing his lips a little harder against yours. You lost control. You mewled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss – Bucky understood you better than you had imagined, and his tongue slid over your lip while he shifted to be on top of you, your legs wrapping around his hips. You kissed as if it was what you needed to breathe. His lips were soft, but slightly chapped, and he kissed you like his life depended on it; it was eager and curious, and you could practically feel the restrain in him. You pulled away for a brief second to find his eyes, your fingers twirling strands of his hair. “I’m not going to break, James.” He growled and kissed you ferociously, teeth dragging against your lips. “Say it again. My name.” “James.” You whined breathlessly, as his hand traveled between the two of you, unbuttoning your pants. “Mhmm… Again.” He whispered and you moaned his name again, arching your back, as his fingers slid against your soaked panties. “Shit, baby, all that just for me, huh?” you preened and moaned something akin to yes fucking yes, it is. He chuckled darkly, moving your panties a little to the side, but stopping before he actually touched you. “Shit, hold on, can you just… Get these off, please.” He mumbled, placing wet kisses on your neck. “Yeah, get off, then. And get naked yourself.” You mumbled back. You had never seen anyone move as fast as he did, and he was standing at the same time as he took his shirt off. You were breathless at the sight of his chiseled body, and you saw the blush on his face. “I, uh… Just… the scars are really bad, you know? Just don’t…” He said, his sleeve still resting against his shoulder of his metal arm. “James. It’s you, there’s nothing bad about you.” You said breathlessly, inching your pants down. His eyes darkened when he saw your soaked panties, and apparently thought screw it, because his shirt flew off, revealing his scars and the full arm. You could understand why he thought they were bad, but mostly, you found them intriguing. Angry, red and pink lines ran all the way around his shoulder, where the metal met the skin, and it reminded you of lightning; it was rough, but there was a beauty in it. You sat up and removed your shirt, leaving you in only your panties. “Come over here.” He obeyed quickly, crawling over you again, pressing his lips to your exposed skin. “Fucking hell, doll, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled against your heated skin, letting his fingers find their way back to your soaked core. This time, he didn’t let the panties get in his way, and simply slid under them, a finger rubbing small circles on your clit. “F-fuck, James…” You moaned, your toes curling. “So good for me, doll… Can you take my fingers?” You nodded furiously, desperate to feel him. He chuckled and kissed and licked the side of your neck, drawing small moans and whimpers from you. “Good girl…” He sucked in a sharp breath as he let two fingers enter you. “Fuck, you feel good around my fingers, baby…” You were practically delirious at this point. He curled his fingers up and began moving, drawing deep sighs and moans from your lips. It felt incredible; his metal hand cool on your exposed skin, while his flesh fingers moved languidly in and out of you. “You’re squeezing me already, doll… You want to cum for me?” He whispered, his lips grazing your collarbone. “Buck…” You moaned his name and rolled your hips to meet his fingers. He chuckled and with his metal hand, he held your face, moving you to face him. “Eyes on me, doll.” Your eyes snapped open, and your pussy fluttered around his fingers. He smirked and began kissing down your breasts and stomach, leaving wet trails on your skin. “You’re going to watch, doll.” You nodded and when his face settled between your legs, he winked at you once, before his mouth descended on you, his tongue flattening against your clit, while his fingers picked up pace. You gasped loudly and your toes curled. Bucky ate you out like a man starved; the sounds were fucking sinful, and the fact that his eyes were on you all the time made you want to die. It was too much, too good, and when his fingers hit the right spot in you, you screamed his name and your hand flew to his hair, holding his head in place as you grinded up against his face. “Good girl… Holy shit, you want to cum, doll? Want to cum for me?” He whispered in between his licks. “Yes, Bucky… Pl-please, please, I want to…” You mumbled, heat licking your veins. It felt like thunder was rumbling through your entire body, your legs shaking and your head a muddled mess from his tongue and fingers, and when he sped up, you lost it completely. You came with a whimper, wetness gushing out from you as he lapped up everything you gave him – you arched up, as pleasure coursed through you, fire licking your insides as you came, and Bucky didn’t let up, until you had to physically pull him away from you. He grinned mischievously and wiped his face, before he climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and it made you wetter than before – you were rolling your hips up to meet him, and he growled, when your inner thigh came into contact with his hard cock. “Baby…” He kissed you again. “Baby, stop, hang on…” You were delirious. “What, James?” You asked breathlessly and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him again. “Condom.” He mumbled against your lips. “I don’t…” He groaned when you tugged on his lip with your teeth. “It’s fine. I’m protected.” You whispered, peppering kisses around his mouth. “I, uh… oh, don’t…” You rolled your hips against him. “Are you sure?” He pulled back slightly and looked you in the eyes. “Yeah, I just want you.” He growled. “Okay, just… Fuck…” He kissed you deeply, his metal hand cupping your face as he lined himself up. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, Y/N…” He mumbled and slid inside you. Both of you moaned. “Shit, you feel so fucking good around me…” He grunted as he bottomed out, and his name was like a chant on your lips. He stilled, when he was fully seated in you and exhaled a shaky breath, letting you adjust to him. He was big. He twitched in you, and your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling – his head was nudging your cervix and the stretch was unimaginable. You had never in your life felt so damn full, and you were well aware that he would ruin you for any other person. “Please, move.” You whispered, rolling your hips experimentally when the slight burn had stopped. He kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping over yours as he pulled out and slammed back in. “Oh, my God…” You moaned and let yourself be taken completely by him. He rutted into you, burying his thick cock in you over and over, dragging against your walls, and you were shaking at the feeling of him. “Baby, you’re taking me so fucking well… Fuck, it feels so good…” He mumbled, speeding up slightly. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” He sped up again, and you felt yourself pulse around him. “Are you going to cum for me again, baby? Want to make a mess out of me, huh?” His Brooklyn accent became thicker, and you nearly lost your damn head at it. “Cum for me, doll, atta girl…” You yelled his name and your nails dug into his shoulders as you came around him, your pussy holding him in a vice-grip. He grunted as you gushed over him, chuckling happily. “Oh, such a fucking good girl, look at you…” He moaned as you clenched around him again. “Fuck, turn around.” He pulled out of you slowly, helping you turn to your stomach – you began propping yourself up on unsteady hands and knees, but he kissed your shoulder and pressed you down on your stomach. “No, baby, just lay here…” Oh. He slid inside of you again and you mewled when he bottomed out; the new position was deeper and harder than before, and you felt him twitch inside of you again. “You should see how you’re just swallowin’ me up, baby girl…” He moaned your name. “Can I be rougher with you, doll?” You nodded and moaned. He kissed your shoulder and began fucking you again, driving his cock deeply inside of you. “Good, ‘cause I want to fucking mark you…” You whimpered and clenched around him at that. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Bein’ marked up by me, letting everyone see who you belong to, huh?” “Y-yes, Buck…” “Say my name.” He whispered, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “James!” You shrieked when he angled his hips and drove himself as deeply as he could, picking up the pace. “That’s my girl.” You could feel his smile on your skin, before his lips found your neck and bit down, while he fucked you furiously, clearly aiming to fucking kill you. You screamed and clamped down on him, your third orgasm rolling over you as a tidal wave, your entire body tensing as you came; it was too much, and you felt the wetness pool under you. “Oh, there she is… Shit, doll, fuck…” you barely heard his words at this point, bliss running rampant through your body. He gasped and moaned, placing both hands on your lower back and propped himself up, holding you with bruising force as he fucked you roughly, skin slapping against skin in a symphony with your collective moans. “Come on, baby, you have one more in you…” “I c-can’t, please…” “You can, baby, I got you…” He slowly slid to the side, bringing you with him, and spooned you, still rutting into you – his hand slid between your legs and found your throbbing clit. You gasped and your entire body twitched, while he chuckled and sped up, his rhythm faltering slightly. “There you go, baby…” He mumbled, leaving love-bites on your skin. You were overheating at this point, your entire body shaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna… Oh, fuck!” A broken scream ripped through your throat as you came hard, soaking his cock and the sheets underneath you. He roared and came a second after you, his hands holding you tightly to his body. You almost came again from the feeling of his hot cum filling you. “You’re awfully squirmy for someone, who just came, doll…” He whispered in your ear, his lips kissing the shell of your ear. Your eyes flew open, when he began rubbing small circles on your clit, still fucking into you lazily. “No, I can’t, Jamie…” You moaned, and somewhere deep inside your brain, you knew he wasn’t going to stop unless you came again. And maybe a time again after that. “You’re going to cum for me, baby? Want me to be in you, keeping all my cum in you while you cum?” He mumbled, rubbing your clit faster. You mewled and your pussy fluttered around his still-hard cock, so close it hurt. “There you go, baby…” He bit down on the juncture between your shoulder and neck at the same time as he pressed against your clit and snapped his hips into you.

You came hard, clamping down on him and let the pleasure run over your body let rays of sun warming your skin. It was incredible.

 What felt like hours later, he pulled out of you, kissing your skin as much as he could, before he went to his closet and found a small towel to clean you with. You laid back and let him, watching him through hooded eyes. His hair had come out of the bun and framed his beautiful face, a small smile lingering on his lips. He threw the towel to the ground, and climbed back into bed with you, letting you settle with your head on his chest, his arms clutching you tightly. “So…” You said in a hoarse voice. “That was…” “Yeah.” He kissed you softly on your forehead. “I, uh… You might have a few bruises here and there.” He chuckled. “Oh, you think I mind?” You laughed. “I don’t mind at all. Unless you mind…?” You asked slowly, biting your lip. “What? No, not at all!” He lifted your head with two fingers under your chin to make you look at him. “Seriously, I meant it when I said I’ve been waiting for a while to do this.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Steve and Sam have been bugging me about it for months, but I never really worked up the nerve to say anything.” You grinned. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve been the same way. Steve has been a right dick trying to get me to talk to you about it.” You frowned. “Oh my god… They’ve been trying to set us up.” Bucky gasped. “Holy shit, that’s why he wanted us both to go to the kitchen the other day!” “And I’m sure that if I texted my roommate to tell her I was coming over to get clothes, she’d refuse me entrance. I think they’ve been conspiring for a while.” You laughed. “God, we’re actual idiots.” “Yeah. Hey, so… You know how Steve gave us conversation topics?” You nodded. “Well… Uhm, to take one of them… I am in love.” He whispered. “Oh, really?” You grinned, drawing lazy circles on his chest with your finger. “Mhm. Actually have been for a while. Remember the other day, where you asked if I was on Tinder?” You nodded. “I wasn’t. I haven’t dated for… Maybe six months, now? I don’t know. I, uh… Well, you came along and somewhere along the line, I kind of fell in love with you.” “Kind of?” You asked with a smirk. He rolled his eyes. “I fell in love with you, you pedantic whore.” He laughed. “I think it happened when you tried to help Steve move that awful couch into the living room. You scrunched your nose up. “Yeah, that pink travesty was really something.” He nodded. “I just remember looking at you and you looked at me with this like… Almost secretive smile, as if I knew exactly what you were thinking, even though I’ve never been able to keep up with you, really.” He kissed your forehead again. “And something just clicked for me. I can’t really say what. It just did. Maybe I always had a thing for you, but it was just in that moment, it really… Solidified.” “I know when I fell in love with you. I mean, I didn’t fall as much as willing walked right into it, but I remember when.” “You’re in love with me?” He asked with a boyish grin on his lips. “Yes, you idiot.” You stretched and kissed him softly. “I was a complete sucker for you from the beginning. I just… Fell in love in the same moment, as you lend me your hoodie, the one no one wears, at the bonfire. You just shrugged and put some of my hair behind my ear after I put it on and told me it never looked better.” “Oh, yeah, I remember that night. Honestly, I haven’t worn it since. It’s yours now.” You smiled. “Good.” “You’re mine too, you know, right?” He asked. You laughed. “I know.” A moment of silence fell between you and you couldn’t help yourself from letting your hand travel down to his cock. It seemed unfair that he had a chance to taste you, feel you, but you didn’t have a chance to do the same to him. He hissed when you made contact with it and wrapped your hand around it, slowly stroking it. “Fuck…” he moaned. “As much as I like feeling myself get hard in your hand, we should, oh…” You grinned at him. “Fuck, you’re good with your hands…” He placed a hand over yours and forced you to stop moving. “Baby, we should get some water. And food. Definitely food.” You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if food entails Chinese, or I’m breaking up with you.” He laughed. “We haven’t even said that we’re dating yet, and you’re already trying to break up with me?” You both got out of the bed and began getting dressed. “Well… Are we?” You asked. He walked to you, wrapping his arms around you and leaned his forehead against yours. “Baby, do you want to be my girl?” You kissed him deeply, your heart fluttering at the feeling of his lips against yours. You could do this forever, if you got the chance.

“If you get me Chinese.” He roared with laughter. “Deal. I’ll just… We need the boys to open the door.” You pulled your phone from the bed, and typed a message in the group-chat. ASSHOLE PATROL

The female god: You can open the door, we talked Metal detector: Actually, we talked with our bodies Bird-lover: gross Golden retriever: ew but ill unlock the door but only because Y/N asked Bird-lover: literally cant be assed with bucko The female god: fair and valid point I am the best and we all know it Metal detector: you guys are assholes and im hungry

 The door opened a few seconds later to a smiling Steve, who cocked an eyebrow. “It smells like love and vanilla liquor in here.” “You smell like not telling your crush you’re in love with him.” Bucky deadpanned, grabbing your hand and led you to the kitchen, handing you a flyer from the Chinese place closest to their house. Steve came down the stairs with wide eyes, and you grinned deviously at him. “Steve, either you tell him…” You exchanged a look with Bucky, who grinned widely. “Or payback is a bitch.” He finished.

 -----------------------------

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[undiscovered-horizon]

"A whole new rodeo" - Rhett Abbott x Reader

[TW: creepy drunk guy, harassment, explicit language, physical violence (like one punch)]

<"Creepy guy at the bar" is a Cheesecake Trope™️: we all know it, there’s no nuance to it and yet it’s always just as lovely>

[1k followers celebration!]

SUMMARY: Rhett just wants to get a drink, not listen to some drunk guy be creepy to a girl. Preston Mabel might have a pretty bad morning, while Rhett Abbott is convinced he scored out of his league.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

One of the virtues of The Handsome Gambler was its constant state - always the same clientele, the same cheap beer, the same smell of hay and gasoline. It seemed as if menaces of the real world couldn't put their talons on whoever was spending their night at the bar, for a moment letting people of Amelia County sigh with relief and pretend their hardships were more akin to philosophical questions not mandatory to entertain rather than essential parts of their demanding lives.

It was just another weeknight, the regulars greeted each other with a slight nod or a tip of their hats before sitting down to their beers. One of Kenny Rogers's hits was playing through the speakers.

Rhett was sitting by the bar and had been absentmindedly drinking his beer, thinking of many different troubles that bit at his heels, until a couple didn't become his bar neighbours. Although to clarify, the pair itself wasn't a problem, Rhett had little care for lovebirds, it's rather only the drunk half of it that got on his nerves. He would've recognized that tacky hat with plastic seashells anywhere and at any time. It belonged to none other than Preston Mabel - a man approaching his thirties that hadn't been told 'no' enough times throughout his life. Through his childhood antics, Preston gained the prestige of the guy who throws sand at others and spits in other kids' porridge. Rumour had it, he never quite outgrew one of those habits...

He wouldn't have cared about Preston - worst case scenario, Rhett could have just found another seat and continued his lonely drinking. It was Mabel's companion, however, who changed Abbott's mind. Sitting on Preston's left side, he could get a look at her face and the unmistakeable discomfort she was experiencing:

Giving the man an empty chuckle, you casually brushed his hand away from your shoulder once again. No matter how nice and charming he had seemed, your regret was growing more potent ever since Preston's fourth beer. Although his behaviour was without a doubt criminal you were quite torn about what you should do: part of you was ready to bail at any moment, while the other was gullible enough to downplay your feelings, claiming that you were blowing the situation out of proportion. It was a small southern town, after all - only a fool would expect its citizens to act like the middle-class white-collars from big northern cities. In fact, quite a few people had said that you were 'stuck-up', mostly Tinder dates for the record, so maybe that's what painted your night in the colours of doom: you just couldn't take it easy.

"I'm just gonna get some fresh air, alright?" Your words were accompanied by nervous laughter. Hopefully, a few cold breaths could clear your mind and who knows: maybe you could even laugh at your anxious discomfort. The aftermath of his unwelcomed touch felt hot on your skin like sunburn before the dead epidermis flakes away.

"Just don't run away, sweetie," Preston slurred a little louder than necessary. He was leaning on the bar counter and Rhett was quite convinced it was the only source of his balance. A shiver ran down your spine hearing his words - it was as if he had somehow known it was a viable option in your mind.

In an impressively big gulp, Mabel finished his beer, setting the bottle down loudly against the counter. Hearing that, the bartender watched him closely from underneath his eyebrows - experience taught him that Preston was showing symptoms of trouble.

"Bambi's mine," the man slurred to the ambivalent bartender before burping loudly.

Stepping away from the counter, Mabel swayed for a moment but caught his balance quite swiftly. Then, with a swing to his step, he followed you outside. When the backdoor closed behind him, the bartender sighed to himself and went back to serving beers and drinks.

Although the situation had nothing to do with him, Rhett's gut was telling him that something was bound to happen - and it wasn't going to be Christmas arriving early. Staring through the circular window in the backdoor, he watched Preston force you against the wall. His leg started to nervously bounce as Rhett tried to decide whether it was his problem or not. Whatever decision should he make, it had to come fast.

"Fuck this," Rhett whispered to himself and rushed outside.

You tried turning your head away from Preston as much as you could, suddenly feeling impossibly ashamed of your inability to set your foot down. Keeping your hands on his chest, you tried to keep his away from yourself but not as assertively as you probably should have: the only worse thing than a drunk creepy man was offended drunk creepy man. And there were too many stories of women 'mysteriously' disappearing from small towns.

"How 'bout we go to mine, sunshine?" he offered. His body language, however, was too forward and decisive for the offer to remain an open question - it was more as if he was stating the end result of the night. You were disillusioned that with the state Preston currently was in it was either 'yes' or 'convince me'.

"No, thanks. I should be going home," you answered as certainly as you could. It felt as if your heart was a frenzied beast kept in place only by the confines of your ribcage.

The sound of the backdoor being pushed open directed your attention towards the unexpected stranger. He caught your gaze, for a moment looking at Preston and the anger on his face became only more prominent.

"Come on, girl. Don't be a little prude," Mabel pushed on. It seemed quite funny that he thought calling anyone 'prude' would work in his favour.

"She said no, Pres."

Rhett's voice could hardly be described as calm, it was more of a warning - anger was boiling inside him like a bull waiting for the slightest glimpse of the red cape. Your breathing became ragged, realizing that the ordeal might get a whole new spin as Rhett Abbott didn't seem like a man who backs off easily.

Preston, however, was deaf to Rhett's words: his shaky hand reached for your face but Abbott grabbed his wrist before you could even wince at the incoming unwanted touch.

"She doesn't fuckin' want to, pal."

Only then, when he was physically restrained, did Preston finally acknowledge Rhett's existence:

"Go fuck yourself, Abbott. She's mine."

Without much thinking, Rhett took a swing and landed a punch square to Preston's jaw. Mabel stumbled backwards, visibly struggling to keep his balance. In shock, he touched his face but winced at the smallest touch. For a moment, Preston stood still - in disbelief that someone laid their hands on him.

"Apologize and go home, Preston," Rhett demanded as he moved to stand in front of you. His right fist was clenched, prepared to repeat the offence.

"You-..." Preston stuttered. Words simply wouldn't leave his mouth. "You fuckin'-..."

"I told you to apologize and go home," Rhett repeated. His persistence impressed you, leaving you grateful that it was a man like him who noticed your plight.

Probably still unable to believe he was put in his place, Preston Mabel threw a short 'sorry!' and disappeared around the corner of the building, stumbling over his own drunken feet.

"I've always wanted to do that," Rhett said quietly as he watched Preston Mabel cower away. Then his worried expression was directed at you and, somehow, the shadow of a man throwing fists seemed to be gone. His hand was no longer clenched. "You doin' alright?"

"Yeah, I guess," you answered while averting his gaze. Rhett noticed how you rubbed your arm awkwardly. "I mean, not now. But I will be. Not the worst thing that happened to me." Rhett would have asked about clarification, feeling his anger rise again but your uneasiness was too prominent and so he tried to chase his vigour away. He could ask about things worse than drunk Preston Mabel some other time - should it, hopefully, arrive. "Thank you."

"How'd you even know the guy?"

You felt a blush of embarrassment creep unto your cheeks remembering the events of the morning. Now that you thought about the earlier hours of the day, you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of your naivety. How humorously human it was - to be wise and reasonable only in hindsight.

"He stopped me in the streets," you confessed. Feeling your embarrassment only growing stronger, you started to mindlessly pick at your skin. Your statement elicited fairly mixed emotions from Rhett. On one hand, he was beyond bewildered that anyone could take Preston Mabel for a 'nice man' but at the same time, he found it somehow completely expected that you would get asked out in the streets - no matter how cliche the scenario might seem. You did look like that kind of woman: the type that Rhett would never even think of asking out, simply because the possibility of getting rejected was, quite frankly, ridiculously high to the point of being obvious. If he knew he had no chance with someone, there was no point in putting his neck or rather his ego's neck in the noose. "Seemed nice enough and it's not like I know many people 'round here, so I took a gamble. It's stupid, I know."

"No, it's not," he answered quickly. Confused, you look at his face not understanding the unexpected redemption of your actions. "Maybe a little."

His eyes were stuck to your face as you laughed at his words. The anxiety Preston managed to instil in you was fading away and the newfound relief only added to your sudden joy. Feeling how warmth sparkled inside his chest watching your amusement, Rhett began weighing his chances. He was disillusioned about the reality: the only thing he had that Preston didn't have was respect for others and the lack of tacky seashells. Rhett wasn't the type of man to shoot in the dark, taking a risk only when he's fairly certain of the net result but at the moment, standing outside The Handsome Gambler, he naively thought that maybe it was his shooting star of a chance.

"You think I could call you tomorrow?"

"Call me?" you repeated in a shocked tone. Rhett's heart sunk and for a moment he really wanted to slap his own face for ever thinking he could aim outside of his league. "It should be me, bringing a fruit basket to you."

You fished out a pen from your purse and, without warning him or asking, you wrote your phone number on the inside of his forearm. Rhett's hands were rough, littered with callouses and scars - hands of someone who knows the price of an honest and humble life. Rhett's knuckles were hot, and flushed, as the skin started to turn from red to purple. He was quite displeased with how quickly you scribbled the digits on his skin only to leave him cold in the absence of your hands.

"Just don't call before 8AM, I'm not an early bird. And I'm paying for dessert, cowboy."

Rhett's eyes glazed over the quick writing in black pen and a triumphant smile appeared on his face. Aside from the nine digits, you had scribbled something else:

"(Y/N)?" he read the few letters above the phone number. "Pretty name. So, (Y/N), you need a ride home?" Your name sounded quite odd coming from Rhett's mouth as if he was the only person in the world to pronounce it in a certain way - it sounded special.

"Sure, I'd love that."

Rhett Abbott might have known a thing or two about riding bulls but he was certain you were going to be a whole new rodeo for him - and that bull he wasn't falling off.

#protective men make my heart go uwu #outer range #rhett abbott #fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #scenario #rhett abbott x reader #outer range fic #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x y/n #outer range rhett abbott #outer range imagine #outer range fanfiction #outer range amazon #outer range series #outer range x reader #outer range fanfic

[whumpbump]

Tinder

Cw: mcd, death by fire, weaponization of mental health, threats of violence

Caretaker had been doing what their name suggested for years and was placed by the Caretaking Organization on a large property that they kept their whumpees safe on. They loved each and every whumpee they cared for and even kept in touch with graduated whumpees.

They were a shepherd of safety, security, and self progress for these compromised individuals. There was only one problem: Caretaker was lonely. They went online to make a dating profile after being egged on by their whumpees who only wanted their dearest Caretaker to be happy.

The reception wasn’t great at first. Whenever Caretaker mentioned what they did for a living, they were turned away and told they must be broken or weird to want to house broken people.

Caretaker was ready to accept the fate of lifelong loneliness when Lover messaged them one night, late, and Caretaker told them up front “listen you seem charming but I want you to know this is what I do for a living. I’m not ashamed of it and will not stop.”

Expecting to be scorned once more, they went to do dishes. Coming back to their phone, they opened a message praising them for their gumption and the love they must hold in their heart to want to do such a difficult job. This surprised Caretaker so they cautiously asked Lover on a date.

They actually had a great time. Lover seemed interested in what Caretaker did for a living. No one ever was. This was new and exciting!

A few dates later and Caretaker agreed to date Lover. Months flew by in bliss. Caretaker wasn’t neglecting their whumpees but the Whumpees definitely noticed a sense of head-in-the-clouds from Caretaker as they seemed to be far away in their own dreamland. One who was brave enough to ask received a loving hug and was told “I’ll tell you all at dinner tomorrow night. It’ll be special.”

The next night, the whumpees gathered around the large oblong table, whispering to one another about what this special event would be; great smells were coming from the kitchen.

Caretaker came through the swinging kitchen door and greeted everyone. “Hello my dears, tonight we celebrate something very special. I want to share a new person in my life. This-“ Lover emerged with a huge pan of food, “is my new partner, Lover.”

“Lover helped make this incredible dinner for you all, and supports my endeavors to take care of all of you. I hope you love them like I love them.”

Cautiously, carefully, the whumpees tried this new food and slowly began to ask personal questions. Lover answered every question and held all of their attentions like an inspirational coach. At the end of the night, Caretaker and Lover sent all the whumpees to bed and dispensed medicine before doing the dishes.

Over the span of two months, Lover was a regular at the house and a fan favorite amongst the inhabitants, old and new. Caretaker asked Lover to move in and take a job with the Organization and Lover happily accepted.

All was well until after the night they moved in. The facade seemed to fall slightly when one whumpee didn’t like the dinner Lover made. “You will eat your dinner and you will thank me.” Lover responded sternly when told it could use more garlic in one’s opinion. The room became startlingly quiet as all eyes shot down and spines straightened. Caretaker said “Lover, that was really intense. Are you ok?”

Lover fixed their smile and publicly apologized to the whumpee blaming a long difficult day of training for work and that they were learning and listening and would do better.

The table dispersed with a varying sense of distrust. Dependent on the level of trauma and awareness, some whumpees accepted the apology and some were suspicious.

The suspicion grew into the second incident and the one Distrusting Whumpee snuck into Lover and Caretaker’s sleeping space. DW found a secret stash of pictures and magazines in a suitcase that definitely were not meant to be found. As they gasped and dropped the contents of the suitcase, they backed up into Lover who was silently watching them.

“Uhhhh what’s that?” DW asked accusingly but was terrified inside.

Lover stepped closer and towered over DW. “Those are not for your eyes. And if you’d like to keep yours, you’ll go back to your room and we will never speak of this again.”

“You wouldn’t. You, you COULDN’T!”

“Do you want to hang around and see?” Lover smiled and opened another suitcase full of metal instruments.

DW ran from the bedroom and slammed the door behind them.

Caretaker was dragged back to the bedroom later by DW followed by a parade of whumpees all atwitter over what happened.

DW became more and more frustrated when the suitcase containing the metal instruments and the pictures and magazines could not be found. DW threw Lover’s clothes around the room as they tried to find the damning evidence.

“Honey,” “I KNOW WHAT I SAW!” “H-honey, I know that what you experienced must have been very startling but maybe you’re misremembering. There are no tools and no magazines, no pictures, nothing. Why don’t we go have a cold glass of water and I’ll walk you to your room?”

DW sobbed because they knew they seemed crazy. Were they? Was this all a figment of their traumatized mind? They, they were prone to hallucinations.. maybe they had another episode.

Caretaker sighed as they handed DW a Xanax and a glass of cool water. They looked out the window to hide their tears when they saw Lover chopping wood for the fireplace for the upcoming winter. Lover turned around and waved as they knew they were being watched. They could feel it. The tension. It was growing.

That night, Caretaker approached Lover as they were stepping out of the shower. “Sweetheart, did you say anything to DW today?”

“I caught them looking through our things earlier, frantic for something. I’m not sure what. I tried to ask them if they were ok, tried to redirect, but they were determined to find something. Then they ran out. I still have no clue what it is they wanted.”

“Oh, oh ok,” Caretaker chuckled nervously. “They said you threatened them. Maybe their meds need adjusted. That’s one of the risks with this line of work, sorry Love.”

Lover brushed some hair out of Caretaker’s eyes and gave them a long, deep kiss. “Nothing could drive me away from you.”

Caretaker went to bed pleased, as did Lover.

Lover asked to talk to DW’s psychiatrist to pass on the story of DW’s strange encounter so the doctor could really understand what happened. DW’s medication was strengthened.

DW walked around with a blank look on their face and Lover could tell there were no thoughts going on behind their tired eyes. Caretaker said they would likely stay in their care until the medical team could get the hallucinations under control.

The third incident came when one of the most sensitive whumpees followed Lover into their private shed and was chased out. SW cried and cried because they were so scared. They started losing continence again and had to wear diapers to bed again. They hadn’t had to do that since they were rescued originally due to the constant fear.

“Lover, why would you scare SW like that? You know I have to make a report.”

“Dearest, there are so many sharp tools in there. I would feel terrible if they got hurt. Don’t make the report.”

Uncomfortable with this answer, Caretaker knew they had to report this but it would be the second report and cause Lover to be investigated by the Organization. DW was almost the third report but it was noted that their progress had diminished significantly and their medication change was significant as well, and that made Caretaker look bad for not noticing how “bad” things had gotten with DW apparently.

That night, after the report was made, Caretaker admitted to Lover that they would be called in in the morning to be interviewed.

“Oh, ok. Thanks for telling me.” Lover smiled. With the same smile, they took the pillow and smothered Caretaker.

As they slept, Lover pumped chloroform into the air ducts, putting everyone into a deep, deep, drug-induced sleep.

Lover walked to the shed and emptied their tools of torture into their car and dragged the body of an unhoused person found locally into the burning house before speeding away into the night.

They walked out of the house in their gas mask with a bag of clothes and collected tinder from the front yard. Lighting it, they ran back to their car to watch from a distance as the large whitewashed house burned, flames licking the walls.

The next day when the Organization Interviewer drove to the property, they found a tragedy. They counted 30 whumpees all in their beds and two people who seemed to be the caretakers.

A report was filed by a new member of the investigation team on the cause of death - faulty wiring. In fact, that report seemed to go along with the many reports made since Lover moved in. But no one noticed how similar the new investigation team member and Lover looked to one another. And no one bothered to ask what happened when the new Investigation Team member quit.

#whumpee #whumpblr #whump blog #whump ideas #whump inspiration #whump #whump tropes #whumper #bad caretaker #secret whumper #tw fictional death #tw fire #death cw #tw mcd #cw mcd

[hayleyglamour]

below are basic connections for HAYLEY WILLIAMS. please note that Hayleyis SINGLE and currently living in NASHVILLE, TN. Her date of birth is December 27th 1988. She is currently 35. if you see a connection you want, please dm me! @glamrpconnect

—— romantic. ❜

partner.

flirtationship. Glen Powell

one night stand.

one sided romance.

friends with benefits:

rebound.

blind date.

possible match.

forbidden romance.

exes on good terms.

exes on bad terms: Dylan O'Brien

tinder match.

first love.

love / hate.

unrequited crush.

celebrity crush.

previously friendzoned.

summer romance.

enemies with benefits.

childhood crush / lover.

one leads the other on.

publicity partner.

one night stand or fling that was regretted later.

—— platonic connections. ❜

best friends: Taylor Swift, Ana De Armas

close friends.

confidants: Dua Lipa

bromance.

role model.

ride or die

childhood friends: Taylor York, Zac Farro

drunk friends.

online friends.

secret friends.

enemies to friends.

wing(wo)men.

squad.

sibling like friends:

platonic soulmates:

friends over holiday.

unlikely friends

positive influence.

seem like a married couple:

former lovers to friends.

new friends, aka friends who just met.

—— family connections. ❜

Parents: Cristi and Joey Williams

family friends.

siblings: McKayla and Erica Williams

divorced partners: Chad Gilbert

in laws.

—— negative connections. ❜

enemies.

former (best) friends.

fell for the same person & fought over them.

lifelong enemies.

frenemies.

share a secret.

rivals, direct opposition.

negative influence.

mutual jealousy.

competition.

current lover’s ex, former lover’s current partner.

have mutual friends but don’t get along:

—— miscellaneous. ❜

neighbors on good terms.

neighbors on bad terms.

have mutual friends:

ex roommates.

professional relations.

project partners/co-workers.

band members: Zac Farro, Taylor York

fitness buddies.

#connections;

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

CHAPTER 14

THE NANNY: CHAPTER 14

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Working and single parenting is not easy. Andy needs to find a nanny for his son Jacob. Annie, an education degree student at Lasell University, comes to their lives just in time for the big changes in Andy’s life.

Warnings: None.

A/N: None.

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

Word count: 2596

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                                   ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

“Hey guys!” Annie said when she saw her friends in the screen of her laptop. “How is Mexico Mark?”

“Amazing! It would be better if you were here.”

“You’re such a liar!” Sharon said “You don’t miss us, I’m sure Steve is keeping busy,” She wiggled her eyebrows

“Oh, he is! Trust me! Keeping me full all night.”

“Alright, I love you, but I really don’t wanna know about your sex life.” Annie said and everyone laughed.

“Talking about sex life, how are things with Andy?” Mark asked.

“There is nothing going on with him.”

“Liar! Tell us everything.” Sharon said.

“There is nothing to tell you guys. I mean, yes we live together, but you know nothing has ever happened. We have seen each other in our underwear and…”

“Wow! What??? When did that happened and why didn’t we know about it?!” Sharon commented.

“The day after I moved, he forgot I was here and he showed up in the kitchen only in his boxers.”

“Please tell me he looks as yummy as I think he does without clothes on.” Mark said.

“He does” Annie giggled “and, he has tattoos on his chest.” There was a pause “Oh! And he saw one of my thongs!”

“Alright!” Sharon said, “Next time you should inform us of all of that, is not very friend of you to hide those things!”

“Ok, ok. There have been a couple of times that I’ve thought he would kissed me, but then he doesn’t, or when we watch TV he takes my hand, I’ve noticed he looks at me and then he looks away, nothing too serious.”

“Oh darling, it is serious. Maybe he is just shy.” Sharon said.

“Shy? Come on! Is very obvious he likes it rough in the bedroom!” Mark interfered “Perhaps he doesn’t know what to do, maybe he wants to give you some space due to what happen to you. Give him a push, if you really think he wants to kiss you then kiss him! You have nothing to lose.”

“Ammm yeah! If something goes wrong I can lose my job.”

“But if everything goes right, you’ll gain a hot successful daddy.” Sharon said.

“Why is everyone so interested in my love life? No one is asking Sharon if she is dating someone!”

“Ok, first of all, cuz we actually think Andy likes you and you deserve to be happy after what happened with Daniel and second, if you must know, I met someone on Tinder…”

“You should be careful with that.” Annie said.

“Yes, mom.” Sharon answered sarcastically. “As I was saying, he seems nice, we haven’t go out yet, but we plan to do it.”

“I agree with Annie, you should be careful. I have to go now. Keep me posted on what happens with you two. Love you.” Mark disconnected from the call.

“He seems happy.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he is happy.”

“So how is Andy?”

“Are we going on with that?”

“No, no. I ask because of the case he is working on, I saw him on TV.”

It was a Thursday and it’s been three weeks now since Annie moved in with the Barbers. Andy was loaded with work, a murder case under his wing. The media was covering the whole thing, everyone in Massachusetts knew who Andy Barber was now, the promising young ADA who was trying to put “The death angel”, as the media named him, behind bars.

“He is tired. He doesn’t say it but I notice, he hasn’t eat or sleep well in days. His birthday was last week and we couldn���t even celebrate it, we bought him a cake and sang happy birthday to him, but that was pretty much it, it was very sad to be honest.”

“Poor Andy, and how is Jake?”

“He is good, he is now next door playing with the neighbor. Andy hides what he is working on at the moment, which is good. Neither Jake nor I are allowed to go into his office, and trust me right at this moment I really don’t want to see what he has there.”

“I believe you. In another topic, I was thinking maybe we should go out tomorrow night, girl’s night, nothing too crazy, how about dinner?”

“Sure! I’ll see you at 6 at your place.”

“Perfect! See you tomorrow.”

Annie closed her laptop and went to the living room, turned the TV on and sat down. The news were on, showing the affected families with Andy behind them. Everyone were fighting over to have an interview with him, he had won the case. A life sentence for the man who murder those 5 poor young girls. Annie kept looking at him answering every question asked by the reporters, he looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes, his hallow cheeks, he was in a poorly state. She turned the TV off and went to the kitchen to start making lunch.

It probably had passed half an hour, Annie was making a turkey sandwich for lunch, when her phone went off, an unknown number in the screen, but she picked up anyways.

“Hello?”

“Hello gorgeous, how are you?” A man with, what she assumed, was his sexy voice answered on the other side.

“I’m good, who is this?”

“Oh! You don’t remember me! That’s bad cuz I certainly remember you.”

“Look if you have nothing better to do, bother somebody else with this type of calls ok?” Annie heard how the man struggle with someone else on the other side of the phone.

“That’s mine! Gimme my phone back!” the man yelled.

“Hey! Is this Annie?” another manly voice sounded.

“Yes, and you are?”

“Forgive my partner, he actually thinks is funny and sexy, I’m Anthony, Andy’s friend.”

“Oh! His poker friends! You’re detective Mackie right?”

“Yes, ma’am, look we were wondering if you are busy, we need you to come and pick Andy to the courthouse.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Ammm well, he is kind of catatonic, he is just in his office staring at a blank point in the wall and he is not talking.”

“I’m on my way.”

Annie grabbed her wallet and the car keys, she went to the neighbor’s house to tell Mrs. López she will be out for a while. She drove all the way to the courthouse, the police at the entrance asked her why she was there, made her go through a metal detector, gave her a pass and let her through and told her which way to go to find Andy’s office. She walked all the way there, until she saw the familiar face of a woman.

“Hi! I know you, I’m…”

“Andy’s “wife”. Stacy answered dryly, and the air quotes made Annie lift her eyebrow “What you want?”

“I’m here to pick him up.”

“Weird, he never said you were coming, and as far as I know he said he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Listen,” Annie said with no patience, “I am his wife, and I have every right to be here and go to his office!”

“No, you’re not.” Stacy answered back.

“Hey! You made it.” Anthony and Seb approach to Annie. “Come with us”.

“You can’t go in there!” Anthony, Seb and Annie ignored her “I don’t care if she is his wife or not, you can’t do that.”

Anthony and Seb looked at each other, and turned to Annie.

“What is she talking about?” Seb asked.

“Ammm long story short, one day that girl was flirting with Andy and he told her I was his wife to get her off his back.”

“Can’t blame him, she is quite noisy and annoying.”

Andy’s office was closed, the drapes were closed as well. They knock and receive no answer. Annie opened the door slowly, Andy was sitting on his chair, head down, and tie loose around his neck, his jacket hanging on the back of the chair. Neither of them dare to move, and then Seb pushed Annie inside.

“Hey!”

“Go on, we have tried everything.” Anthony said.

“Well, not everything. You didn’t want to use my plan of throwing water at him.” Seb interfered.

Annie kept looking at them, she could tell that Seb was the child of the pair. Annie turned and walked towards Andy who was still in the same spot. She kneeled next to his chair, her hand went to touch his cheek to make him look at her.

“Andy?” no answer “Baby…” Andy groaned when he listened the loving word. “Hey! Look at me.” Andy lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. His eyes were red and glossy, Annie had never seen him like this.

“I won.” Andy’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I know, I saw. I’m so proud of you!”

“Everyone is saying that.”

“But I mean it” She giggled “Come on, let’s get you home, so you can rest.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“I know, that’s why I’m here. Can you stand?” Andy nodded and did as he was told, Annie hold him by the waist as Andy put her arm around her shoulders. Anthony and Seb walked in to take Andy’s things and followed them out of the office to Annie’s car.

“Thank you for coming.” Anthony said while helping Andy to get in the car.

“Thank you for calling. He needs to sleep, he worked so hard on this.”

They said good bye and Annie drove back home. They walked to the door, Annie helped him with his stuff, and opened the door for him.

“Come on, big guy. You need a shower, food and rest.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“We’ll start with the shower then. Let’s go.”

Once in the room, Annie turned the shower on, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom. She then came back to help Andy with his clothes until he was only in his boxers.

“Can you go from here?” Andy nodded at her question “Good, be right back. I’m making you a sandwich.”

Andy walked into the bathroom, took off his underwear and stepped in the shower. The hot water relaxing his muscles, the pressure he had been feeling for the past weeks was vanishing right at this moment. He took a deep breath, and started to wash his hair and body. After 15 minutes he came out, the bed looked incredible comfortable, or so he thought. He put a white shirt and some sweats, dried his hair as much as he could and went under the covers. His eyes felt heavy, the mattress felt like a marshmallow and his duvet was soft like a cloud. Annie walked in carrying a tray with two plates and two glasses with orange juice, Andy was dozing off with his back against the head board.

“Andy?” He opened his eyes, a sleepy smile on his lips “I brought you something to eat.”

“’M tired” He yawned “Later.”

“Ok” she smiled and put the tray on the vanity “Lay down. Jake is with the neighbors, he won’t wake you up.” she gave him a small kiss on his forehead. “I see you when you wake up.”

“Lay down with me, please.” At this point Andy was half asleep. Annie nodded, took off her shoes, and laid under the cover next to him. Her hand caressed his face and that’s all it took for Andy to fall in a deep sleep. No longer after Annie fell asleep too.

When Andy opened his yes, he was on his back, looking at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he felt better than before, rested at least. A warm feeling on his chest made him looked down, Annie’s hand was resting there, her hair all over the pillow; he took her hand and turned to see her. She looked so at peace, her eyelids were moving.

“What are you dreaming of?” Andy whispered and Annie mumbled in her sleep which cause Andy to giggle, making Annie to wake up. Her eyes fluttered open to find Andy staring at her.

“You talk in your sleep.” Andy said “it’s cute.” Annie groaned and covered her face “Is true, it is cute.”

“Did you rest?” Annie said moving her hands out of her face.

“Yes, thank you for picking me up. I just couldn’t drive.”

“Care to tell me what was going on in that head of yours?” Andy sighed.

“I think it was everything. The case, the evidence, the families, they counted on me, and for a moment while I was speaking to the jury I thought I’d lost. And all I could think of was what was I going to say to the parents of those girls.”

“But you did everything you could, and you succeeded! I saw how much time and effort you put into this, the sleepless nights…”

“You notice I wasn’t sleeping?”

“Your footsteps are heavy when you are tired, so you made noise walking down the stairs every night. I sneaked behind you a few times” She confessed “I saw you looking at the pictures you had in your office. Were they bad?”

“They were pictures of the murder scenes. So yes, they were bad. Every time I went to bed I kept seen those poor innocent girls, one of them looked so much like you. And just the thought of anyone hurting you, I just can’t…” his voice broke and his eyes filled with tears.

“Shhhh, I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Not any time soon at least.” Her hand went to the nape of his head caressing him gently.

“Did you mean what you said in my office? Are you proud of me?”

Annie smiled and gave him a peck on the lips; Andy was shook until a wide smile was on his face.

“Of course is true! I like you Andy. And I’m not saying it because you’re my boss. Actually I shouldn’t be saying it because of the same reason, but I do. I don’t know if you like me back, Jake says you do, god I’m trusting in what a 3 year old says and…”

Andy crashed his lips against her to shush her down, they smiled to each other and then kissed again, this time slower. Their lips touched each other, gently first, taking the time to explore every part of their lips and their mouths. Their tongues massaging one another and then they stopped. Andy took a deep breath.

“So you like me, like me?” Annie said all fluster after the kiss they shared.

“Yes!” Andy Laughed “I like you, like you.”

“Good, cuz I like you.”

“You already said that, but is good to know is true.”

“So,” Annie said touching his nose with hers “What now?”

“Wanna go out on a date with me?” Annie nodded eagerly at the question, and Andy kissed her back.

“Are you gonna be kissing me from now on?”

“Every fucking time I have the chance.” Annie Laughed “So, how about tomorrow?”

“Shit! I can’t, I promise Sharon we will have a girls’ night. But I’m free on Saturday, I just have to let my boss know I’m gonna be out for the night.”

“I’m sure he’ll say there won’t be a problem.”

Andy leaned in to kiss her again and then his stomach growled, making Annie laughed. She stood up and brought the tray to bed.

“I was planning to have lunch with you earlier. I can chance the juice for a beer.”

“This is fine.” Andy took his sandwich “Thank you, honey.” He kissed her cheek and bit his sandwich.

#andy barber #andybarber #andy barber fic #andy barber fanfic #andy x reader #andy baber x reader #andy x you #andy x annie #annie johnson #Defending Jacob #defendingjacob #jacob barber #jake barber #the nanny #andy x nanny

[vanessakirby]

just a sexuality crisis rant to no one in general. i've identified as bisexual for like almost a decade and i know there's a lotttt of internalized homophobia to work through especially with homophobic family and i kind of accepted that i'll just marry a man or whatever and so be it, cause i've had crushes on men and women before but over the years I kind of stopped labelling myself cause I'd go through cycles of "am i bi? am i pan? am i a lesbian? am i straight? am i ace?" and i really have no fucking idea i haven't dated anyone so it's just all hypothetical. i think i can and do have romantic feelings for anyone regardless of gender, but physically/sexually i know i'm mostly just attracted to women. i don't even have any male celebrity or fictional crushes really, except for a rare few here and there, i can't even really bring myself to care about male celebs or characters. it's just not interesting to me. i'm just interested in women and that to anyone seems it's obvious i'm probably a lesbian. i think 16 year old me accepted easily that i'm bi / queer, like that was obvious to me but me now has less guts to accept what if i am a lesbian. even 19 year old me who talked to girls on tinder and snuck off to pride was braver than i am now. perhaps back then i thought i had more time to experiment and play around, but now the years are creeping up and i feel pressured to settle down like everyone else. i'm too scared to ever see myself openly come out, date a woman, or marry one, i can't see that future for me. i admire the bravery in those who are able to live their life freely. until then i'll carry on projecting the repression onto the characters in the stories i write. i'm scared that comphet has brainwashed myself into forcing myself to marry a man eventually and then i'll just trap myself into a life where i'll be repressed and sad. but the only thing that's been stopping me from labelling myself as a lesbian besides internalized homophobia is what do i do with the crushes i have on men? or are they just comphet and i've tricked myself into thinking i like them? so i just don't really know and just don't have a label right now lmao. i know it's different for everyone, i've had multiple mutuals who used to identify as lesbians and then are now bisexual and are in loving relationships with men, and maybe vice versa. maybe i'll try it out. i'm a lesbian. i'm a lesbian i'm a lesbian i'm a lesbian. idk.

#comphet #lesbian

[lalka-laski]

Do you believe you’ve met your soulmate or one of them?: I can confidently say I have.

When did you last have grape juice?: Last weekend I made a delicious batch of "faux champagne" with ginger ale, club soda, white grape juice, and grenadine. It was a hit!

Have you learned anything today?: Every day's a learning opportunity, isn't it?

Have you been to any parties here recently?: Well, it wasn't "here" but I went to a Galentine's day party last weekend. It was a blast!

Are you good at reading body language?: Honestly, not really. I see what I want to see. Or rather, what my anxiety wants me to see.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night?: 7ish maybe?

What were the last 3 emojis you used?: Pink heart, heart eyes face, and a donut. Boy, if that doesn't sum me up entirely...

Is it currently warm where you live?: It's been much warmer than a typical February. Or at least it was 'til today.

Do you use Facebook?: Yeah, kind of obsessively.

Do you like the smell of coconut?: I went through a major coconut lotion & perfume phase but I overdid it (go figure) and now I have a hard time stomaching it.

Do you prefer longer or short socks?: Short, if any at all.

What size shoe do you wear?: 9

Chocolate or Vanilla ice cream?: Twist!

Do you or anyone you know have sleep apnea?: I know a few people

Where is your favorite place to be?: These days it's my bed with the lights turned off and some sort of "ambient" scene playing on my TV while I read my Kindle. Bonus pints if a candle's lit. It's bliss.

How many times have you fallen in the past year?: Too many.

Do you like to leave your window open at night or do you use a fan?: I love leaving the windows open when we can. But I still use a fan for white noise.

Is there a celebrity you dislike for no reason other than they annoy you?: Selena Gomez. I can't stand her but I can't provide any justification.

If you find a spider in your home, do you set it free or kill it?: I let 'em hang out and sometimes even name them.

Would you say you’re addicted to social media?: Yep.

How many pets have you had in your lifetime?: 3 bunnies.

Do you sunburned easy?: Within seconds!

Of all the houses you’ve lived in, which was your favorite?: I guess my current apartment.

Do you or would you ever use online dating?: I had a few brief stints on OkCupid and Tinder. It was a bad idea every time...

What do you wish you could get paid for?: Sleeping? Shopping? Eating pizza?

What did you get into trouble for as a kid?: Not much, honestly. I got up to typical mischief once in a while but I was a rule-follower for the most part.

What’s something good that has happened here recently?: I got a promotion!

Do you remember the first time you’ve ever driven a car? How did that go?: Yeah.

Who did you last say “I love you” to?: Glenn.

When did you last feel beautiful?: Yesterday I had a little "moment."

Are you currently frustrated over something?: Yeah. Our wedding photographer hasn't gotten back to me regarding the status of our photos and I'm livid. And panicked.

Would you ever like to travel to Ireland? Or have you ever been?: I'd love to someday.

Have you ever had a yard sale?: I don't think so.

Do you enjoy going to yard sales or garage sales?: Not particularly.

Do you know someone with a big ego?: Yeah.

What color is your most used blanket?: It *was* white once upon a time but it's much more gray these days.

Does it annoy you when people type in all caps?: I guess so?

Do you like gummy bears?: Love 'em.

Where is your favorite place to grocery shop?: Wegmans or Aldi.

Have any plans for the day?: It's Friday! Kathleen's picking me up in a little bit and then we're gonna go grab food and have a sleepover.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Archer Magazine has partnered with Melbourne Bisexual Network to amplify voices from the bi+ community. This article is part of a series to celebrate Bisexual Awareness Week, supported by the Victorian Government.

Content warning: This article discusses biphobia, homophobia and transphobia.

“Sorry, I’m looking for something serious,” was the message I got over Tinder from a woman I’d been chatting to. Up until then, I was having a relatively good time.

We’d set up a date to meet, but she cancelled the day before it was meant to happen.

To be honest, my favourite part of dating was when people cancelled, so I wasn’t bothered. But I also couldn’t work out what part of our two-day conversation about Parks and Rec warranted this sudden verdict. So, making sure not to sound too pushy or creepily invested, I asked why – and she told me that she’d only just noticed that I’d listed my sexuality as bisexual.

“I’m looking for more than a hookup,” she stated, before unmatching with me.

While I did agree that our opening chat about different fantasy books had been seething with dank erotic tension, it felt like a real leap to assume that I was purely seeking to slake my disgusting bisexual lusts.

During this period of my life – my early thirties – I’d embarked on a kind of bisexual experiment. I’d just come out of a semi-closeted 11-year relationship, so I was keen to explore what dating looked like as an out bisexual man who was no longer willing to compromise on my own queerness.

I wasn’t going to pretend I was purely ‘gay’ when dating men, and I wasn’t going to try and force my wrists into a false heterosexual rigidity and grasp at straightness when I was dating women. When I dated non-binary and gender diverse people, I’d simply enjoy the experience of dating relatively free of expectations.

I went into this period of dating with a kind of Virgo methodology – I would try to keep my dates balanced in terms of gender, and I would go on as many dates as possible. This gave me a lot of experiences to make my ultimate judgements on.

I kept some notes at the beginning, but I decided against keeping a spreadsheet, in case any of these people were murdered in the future and the police discovered it, rightly considering a spreadsheet an indication of serial killer behaviour.

I was interested in finding out what bisexual dating looked like.

While there were many people who didn’t bat a single eyelid at my queerness, I did find myself surprised at the amount of times misconceptions, weird projections, biphobia, bi-erasure and bi-superstition interfered with my dating life.

It was the gay man who felt comfortable enough telling me that “bisexuals are sexual tourists”.

It was the liberal, arty, free-love type woman who told me she would be “concerned about AIDS”.

Living so comfortably in my own enlightened bubble, I had come to assume that it was a kind of binary issue – you were either homophobic or not.

It made me realise that if I wanted bisexuality to be part of me forever, and not just for Christmas, it was something I had to fight for.

They say you don’t come out of the closet just once, but multiple times for the rest of your life.

Bisexuality reinforces this idea, because people view it as something unstable, erratic. If you don’t continue to confirm it, to aggressively hold space for it as its own concept, then people will default your sexuality into something ‘easier’ to understand – something based on their own perception.

If I don’t continue to thrash and make a scene about my sexuality, I magically become straight (or straighter) when I’m dating a woman. If I don’t continue to be annoying and cringe about my identity when I’m dating a man, the fact that I’ve dated women is considered a mistake of the past, or is erased altogether.

I learned that I had to make a fuss; I had to clear a space for myself.

Another time during my dating stint, a quite attractive man – in between buying me cocktails – kept making jokes about how I wasn’t the first “straight guy” he’d turned, despite the fact that I kept pointing out I’d dated other men too.

Bisexuality, I discovered, is awkward.

For many people, the awkwardness comes from the invisibility of it, from the way it’s like a cryptid: something people have to see to believe.

For me, the strange thing has always been that the assumption of my straightness has never truly existed – my physicality, my fashion and my flamboyance all sending gay signifiers.

To paraphrase Gandalf the Grey, I do not pass (as heterosexual).

Even when I’ve dated women, it’s assumed to be closeted behaviour – a mistake before becoming gay. When I was dating a bisexual woman, we were accused of being mutual beards by a (subsequently) former friend.

For me, other people’s lack of understanding around my bisexuality was at most an annoyance, if not just mildly sad for them. I always contextualised this ‘problem’ in a sticks-and-stones kind of formula.

Why worry about some people having outdated notions of bisexuality, when I’ve been beaten up in the middle of a busy Sydney park in broad daylight for “being a fag”, with the police openly laughing at me?

Who cares that half my matches on apps were bored straight couples looking for a threesome, when me and a previous boyfriend were once chased down King Street by some guy ranting transphobic slurs?

But it began to feel like my sexuality, in whatever way I represented it, was besieged by outside forces and their opinions. To manifest my bi-ness – which allowed me to be true to myself and made me happier than I’d ever been before – I’d have to fight against the perceptions of other people.

I had to clear a space.

Back when I used to go to music concerts, when I was younger, cooler and more keen to be sweated upon by a room full of strangers, my tactic was to get to the front row early, and aggressively make space for myself as the crowd grew thick and claustrophobic.

This took a mixture of grit, willpower and using my bony elbows and knees to stay strong. Because I am long and tall, I was out of place in that front row, and people would try whatever they could to shift me. Great surges of bearded men and tiny girlfriends would seek to dislodge me, like some kind of seabird standing proudly on a wave-tossed rock.

But I wouldn’t move, and that’s why Julian Casablancas from The Strokes once hit me in the face with a water bottle he dropped – it was all worth it in the end.

That feeling of aggressively holding space, of determinedly standing up and refusing to move, felt most similar to my time dating as a bisexual man.

It was about stubbornness and pride and inconveniencing others. Perhaps not the most romantic attitude, but one I refused to abandon during my ‘experiment’ era.

My attitude was based on antagonism and bad experiences, like when an organiser at my university’s queer space firmly told me to “pick a side” when I was just a baby student looking to explore my sexuality for the first time.

It’s why I became someone who put my hand up to write about my experiences, to volunteer and work for the queer community, and to show up at parties, prides and events, even when people would gatekeep. I did this to consistently confirm that the B in the queer alphabet was represented.

Holding space, I realised, was exhausting. And I have to admit, sometimes my motivation was more spite against the gatekeepers than altruism.

I came to realise however, after a while of committing to this attitude, that I had made a mistake with my defiant notion of clearing space: the idea that I was doing this in opposition to other people.

Even though I have dealt with people who have specifically not wanted me to exist in the fullness of myself – as the most truthful and expansive version of myself – it was a mistake to set myself up against them. It was a way of forgetting the good parts of my sexuality, the freedoms, the glorious stupidity and the brilliant humour of it all.

It was a mistake to treat my sexuality and my personhood only as a rebellion, as a form of protest. Sometimes it is, but that can’t be everything.

Bisexuality, I’ve come to realise, is just as much about glamour and abundance as it is about rebellion. I am a ridiculous creature of lust, love and glorious inclusivity, and spending my life committed to this style of living is the joyous part of holding space as a bisexual.

Every day I get to look absurd and beautiful. And, like an ageing Hollywood starlet, I refer to the lovers of my past, and wink at my affairs of the heart and body that span people of all genders, and those with no gender at all.

When I fall in love, I am able to fiercely celebrate the fact that I’ve fallen for someone, across the wide spectrum of humanity. This is truly remarkable.

Holding space for my bisexuality is about making the commitment – in my own actions and self-identity – to never compromise on how I view myself, on living the life I want to live: in my own truth.

It’s clearing a space against my own insecurities, my own doubt and all the fucked up hangups and toxic things I’ve been taught.

Once that space is clear inside yourself, you can’t help but hold it automatically. It stops being an external battle, and simply exists as a truth.

This makes all the difference in the world – it feels liberating, honest and free. It means my relationships are now about finding someone who I love – someone who also loves every part of me. It means happiness.

You can’t diminish my sexuality if it’s held firmly inside myself. It’s no longer about furiously marking space just so that other people can’t diminish me, but rather about making room for my own authenticity.

And in that space I’ve cleared, there’s also a place for joy and acceptance, among all the other bullshit that goes into being bisexual.

Patrick Lenton is a writer and author living in Melbourne. He is the author of three books, including the recent collection of short stories Sexy Tales of Paleontology, and a freelance writer with regular bylines in The Guardian, SMH/ The Age, Junkee and more. He is the Deputy Editor of arts & culture for The Conversation.

Archer Magazine has partnered with Melbourne Bisexual Network to amplify voices from the bi+ community. This article is part of a series to celebrate Bisexual Awareness Week, supported by the Victorian Government.

#bisexuality #bisexual community #lgbtq community #lgbtq #bi #support bisexuality #lgbtq pride #pride #bi tumblr #bisexuality is valid #bisexual #bi pride #bisexual nation #bisexual pride #bisexual education #bisexual youth #support bisexual people #bisexual men #respect bisexual people #bisexual rights #bisexual people #biphobic #biphobia #biphobic gay people

[openheartfanfics]

Bryce x F!MC: Fluff

One Shot R-S

Rain - @altosxratus They’ve never been on an actual date. 

Rainy Days - @anotherbeingsworld  Bryce and Casey spend their weekend with a new idea.

Recollective Nights - @choicesstan1 

Reminscing Hours - @anotherbeingsworld  Bittersweet Lahela Family

Roll - @omgjasminesimone Pregnancy Fic

Rosé All Day - @peonierose  It’s Maxines birthday on February 14th, but Luna knows that Maxine doesn’t like Valentine‘s day. So she and the girls spend some quality time together. Feat. Keiki Lahela

Sandcastles - @thegreentwin  Set in the future, where Bryce takes his family to visit Hawaii for a month.

Scrunchies - @princesslahela  MC plays with Bryce’s hair.

Settled - @argylemnwrites  A long standing bet is about to be settled. Feat. The Gang

Seven Year Itch - @argylemnwrites  Bryce finds himself unusually sentimental as a large chapter in his life draws to a close. Set 6 years after Book 1. [Bryce POV]

Sharing is Caring - @storyofmychoices   Bryce and Olivia spend a quiet moment together celebrating their first sonogram.

Shining Through The Shadows - @storyofmychoices Olivia prepares a special eclipse viewing party for her patients.

Shooting Star - @chocopeppermintcake  Bryce and Casey see a shooting star.

Sick Day - @angstymarshmallow When Maci is stuck at home sick, she craves the attention that only one doctor can give her

Sick Day - @julia-highstorms  This takes place sometime during Book 1.

Silent Treatment - @omgjasminesimone  She’s pregnant and mad at him about a case.

Simple and True - @theonewiththeunconquerablesoul  Sometimes, all it takes is for one person to see the light that shines within.

Simply The Best - @writinghereandthere  Bryce proposes at the last minute whilst in the shower.

Sleeping Beauty - @appiomofchoice Bryce accidentally wakes up Darcy as he leaves in the morning.

Snatched - @tmarie82 Bryce coaxes her into CrossFit

Snowfall - @appiomofchoice ❄ Darcy fights a losing battle against her feelings as she and Bryce enjoy Bryce’s first snowfall.

Soft Sheets - @summertimemagic

Some Day - @robintora   Bryce imagines his future with Theia as Inés is walking down the aisle. [Bryce’s POV]

Someone Else's Christmas Star - @curiousconch 🎄 Casey performs in Edenbrook's annual Christmas charity concert. Set in the time jump of 2.18. Feat. Bryce x MC x Rafael

Something Sweet - @jerzwriter It's Olivia's birthday and her friends are ready to celebrate. Feat. Ethan x F!MC, Tobias x F!MC

Soon (It’s a Relative Term) - @storyofmychoices  Bryce and Olivia finally have a morning off together.

Soulmates - @omgjasminesimone Post housewarming party diamond scene Book 1.  

Specialties - @omgjasminesimone Bryce is on Tik Tok

Start Again - @anotherbeingsworld In our lifetimes, people would always come and go. But, sometimes… fate brought them back into our lives once more as a chance to start over.

Staying up all night to finish a game with them - @commander-rahrah

Stay. Please. - @altairadtaz

Stay Up on That Rise - @burnsoslow 🩺 Ch. 16 rewrite because I need Bryce and Allie settled, thank you!

Stay With Me - @bex-la-get   Bryce comes to the rescue when Sienna falls ill.

Stitches - @lucas-koh

Sudden Happiness - @anotherbeingsworld  Casey is stood up by a Tinder date and Bryce is there to take her mind off of it.

Summer Kiss - @peonierose  Luna and Bryce enjoy a bit of alone time together by Manoa Falls.

Sunburn - @mrsbhandari Bryce has rules for vacation. Very serious rules.

Sunday Morning - @altosxratus Day’s off are meant to be spent in bed. 

Sunshine - @writinghereandthere He is bright, hanging high in her sky, and resilient – if she gazes at him too long it might just hurt— soothe?— her.

Surfin’ Bird - @dancing-hippo  Bryce teaches Casey how to surf

Surgical Precision - @alj4890 Halloween fluff.

Sweet Life - @storyofmychoices   Bryce has a sweet surprise for Olivia, but things don't go quite as planned.

Sweet Love - @lahellacute Bryce distracts Casey while she’s baking.

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

#bryce lahela #open heart #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc

[jasoh]

     steven yeun & he/him / cis man ‷ watch out , jae-sung “jason” oh has crash-landed into roswell !! they look thirty-eight years old and celebrate their birthday on the thirty-first of august. they are from seattle, washington, reside in moonbeam gardens and are currently working as a model + environmental activist. one thing you should know about them is they have a green thumb. ‷

!! TRIGGER WARNINGS: divorce; riot

STATS:

FULL NAME: jae-sung oh NICKNAMES: jason; jae AGE: thirty-eight BIRTHDAY: august 31 (virgo) GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis man & he/him SEXUALITY: bisexual NEIGHBORHOOD: moonbeam gardens LENGHT OF TIME IN NM: a few weeks LIVED IN: seattle, washington; manhattan, new york OCCUPATION: model; environmental activist JUNG TYPE: intj-a FIVE POSITIVE TRAITS: candid; confident; informed; dutiful; chic FOUR NEGATIVE TRAITS: blunt; vain; hostile; condescending MISCELLANEOUSS: eating a monstera fruit is on his bucket list; mama’s boy; bit of a bookworm; always has his emotional support (reusable) water bottle within reach

GENERAL:

sadly, jason’s parents got divorced when he was very young, so a strong bond between mother and son developed in consequence of only having each other to depend on

when he was in high school, jason got recruited by an agent

though he sometimes neglected his school work, it wasn’t until after he graduated that he decided to really dedicated time to modeling

jason and sun-hwa (his mom) moved to new york and much to their surprise and amusement, his career took off rather quickly, establishing him well enough into the scene that he could live comfortably between there and his hometown on the west coast

had always been somewhat of a “green loving tree hugger,” but it wasn’t until he enterred his thirties did he begin to really investigate ways to fight climate change

after spending so much time and money on aiding organizations, jason has established himself as “that environmentalist model”

he was happy with his life until the last demonstration he had organized and hosted turned into a riot, leading to authorities to send out a warrant for his arrest

something about going back home sounded unappealing and loud, so jason opted to go to roswell, where there bustle is small in comparison the cities he’s used to. something quiet for him to process the violence he witness, though he’s not typically one to address him emotions straight on

HEAD CANNONS:

jason would rather awkwardly carry all his groceries in his arms than ever touch a plastic bag ever again. the idea makes him physically cringe. he also makes mental notes when he sees his friends using them so he can gift them bundles of reusable bags

vegetarian (sometimes vegan) because meat industry is bad for the environment.

big decisions are always ran by sun, his momma. she’s pretty antagonistic against him, so she’s contradicts and puts down a lot of his plans and ideas, putting him in a weird head space whenever he does follow his intuition and go against her input

a loyal friend

serial monogamist

very much hates public speaking, but fights through his discomfort if it means educating people/kids/communities on why it’s important to care about the planet

if you see him, he’ll most likely be wearing a pair of glasses because his eyesight has always been poor and he can only tolerate contacts for so long

TL;DR - jason is a moody and broody model who likes to help in the fight against climate change

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

people from work - other models, photographers, designers, makeup artists, agents, etc.

romantic - dates (good, bad, blind, tinder, whatever), hook-ups, fwb, exes, flirty

amicable

neighbors

anyone who might have attended clean-ups and / or demonstrations that he had organized in the past; jason also goes to businesses to leave flyers, so he might even be familiar with local business owners / managers

anything else - it’s easy for jason to leave a bad taste in people’s mouths, but he can be charismatic and charming when he wants to be. so you decide!

#abt; #roswellintro #divorce tw #riot tw

[coochiequeens]

Ladies in Oregon DO NOT let the men in your lives downplay this because he was “joking”. Thanks to porn rates of women being choked is skyrocketing and jokes like this lead to normalizing violence against women.

Alek Skarlatos, a Republican candidate for Congress in a competitive Oregon district, repeatedly “liked” photos of underage girls in bikinis on Instagram and joked about strangling women on a podcast shortly before beginning his political career four years ago.

Skarlatos, 29, is a former Oregon National Guardsman who parlayed his recognition for helping stop a terrorist on an Paris-bound train in 2015 into multiple reality show appearances and two previous unsuccessful campaigns for Congress and the Douglas County Commission.

He faces Democrat Val Hoyle, the current commissioner of the Bureau of Labor and Industries, in a race for Oregon’s 4th Congressional District, currently represented by Democrat Peter DeFazio. The district, which includes Eugene and most of southwest Oregon, is one of three targeted by both national political parties. 

Skarlatos’ comments about choking women were on a podcast in 2018 to promote a Clint Eastwood movie dramatization of the thwarted train attack. Skarlatos appeared as himself in the film. 

In March 2018, two months before Skarlatos launched his campaign for Douglas County Commission, he and film co-star Spencer Stone, a former Air Force staff sergeant who also helped stop the terrorist attack, appeared on the podcast “Drinkin’ Bros.” For 45 minutes, the pair and two podcast hosts discussed the film and speculated about celebrities’ sex lives, and Skarlatos read aloud some of his messages from the dating app Tinder. 

Then, the conversation turned to choking in the bedroom. 

“You ever thought if you choked someone and killed them in bed what would happen?” podcast host Ross Patterson asked.

“Oh yeah,” Skarlatos responded, laughing. “Oh yeah.”

The conversation about women dying during sex continued, with Stone saying he had plans to sit in on a trial of a man charged with choking his girlfriend to death during what the defendant described as a consensual encounter. Skarlatos then referred to a 2017 Florida case in which a man argued that his girlfriend accidentally suffocated while performing oral sex, saying that the man wasn’t convicted and “got off, in more ways than one.” 

Around the time of Skarlatos’s podcast appearance, the Oregon Legislature upgraded strangulation during domestic violence to a felony. Strangulation was also made a federal felony in the 2013 reauthorization of the federal Violence Against Women Act.

Academic studies have found that more than half of female college students have been choked by partners during sex and have linked an increase in strangulation attempts to depictions of choking in pornographic videos that don’t show how dangerous it is. 

Earlier in the episode, Skarlatos also complained about the physical appearances of women in Roseburg, and how he had to travel elsewhere to date. 

“There’s literally two attractive women in my town,” Skarlatos said.

Following a request for comment from the Capital Chronicle, Skarlatos apologized in a statement shared by his campaign.

“Looking back at the comments I made as a 24-year-old who just left the Army, I’m disappointed,” he said. “I apologize if I offended anyone.”

Within the past few months, Skarlatos has also “liked” photos of underage girls wearing bikinis and other skimpy outfits on Instagram. One such photo, posted by a then-17-year-old girl this past March, shows her in a string bikini bottom and a sweatshirt raised to display her midriff. 

Since 2020, Skarlatos liked dozens of photos of teenage girls, including several in which the girls are wearing two-piece bathing suits or midriff-baring crop tops. The two youngest girls were 15 at the time Skarlatos liked their pictures, according to Instagram posts they made on their birthdays. 

The Capital Chronicle reviewed screenshots of the posts and found them on Instagram to verify that Skarlatos liked them. He defended his Instagram likes in a statement. 

“To imply that a ‘follow’ or a ‘like’ of social media influencers on Instagram with over 100,000 followers is inappropriate is absurd,” Skarlatos said. 

Separately, the Associated Press reported Friday that Skarlatos was cleared by the Federal Election Commission of an alleged campaign finance violation relating to a nonprofit he created. Skarlatos used $93,000 left over from his 2020 campaign for Congress to create a nonprofit to advocate for veterans, then transferred $65,000 from the nonprofit to his current campaign after he decided to run again in 2021. The AP, citing a filing from the commission that’s not yet public, reported that the Federal Election Commission approved the transfer to his campaign as a refund. 

As of the end of the third fundraising quarter on June 30, Skarlatos had raised more than twice as much as Hoyle, $2.57 million to her $1.12 million. District demographics and voting history favors Hoyle, and national forecasters at the Cook Political Report rate the district as “leans Democratic.” 

#oregon #election 2022 #violence against women #Alek Skarlatos #Vote him out

[daisukitoo]

I have been finding She-Hulk surprisingly entertaining given that it has three flaws that are all problems with core elements of the show.

First, the CGI has neither the time nor the money to look really good. This is a problem when your main character is a CGI She-Hulk, but it is also noticeable for things like backgrounds. "Why do even the live-action characters look like Colorforms in this scene? Oh, that's a green screen." I am sure the CGI folks are doing the best they can given the time and budget available.

Second:

This is a problem when your main character is a trial lawyer. The latest episode was the best-written one so far, probably because it involved no lawyering at all.

Third, a central plot element of the show, even more so than "Jen Walters turns into a green monster," is "Tatiana Maslany cannot get a date or even a Tinder match in LA." This violates suspension of disbelief more than "Jen Walters turns into a green monster." You could write a believable storyline about how her personality or career-focus makes it hard for her to keep a boyfriend, but at no point will it take a full hour for her online dating profile to be inundated with more responses than she will ever want.

Side note on that third: in back-to-back episodes, the show mocks a character for believing he was dating a celebrity, and we see She-Hulk going on dates with men who believed the online dating profile for a superhero was really her. Granted, in this case it was really her, but they had even less reason for believing that than the character who was mocked for dating a fake celebrity. And the fake celebrity was really a shapeshifting superhuman, which honestly? bigger win than dating a singer.

#marvel #she-hulk