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border-spam · 4 years ago

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Does troy really have a split jaw or is that fanon?

It's total fanon!

The design of the split lines across his cheekbones and chin coupled with the cheek clips and v shaped hinge outline next to his ears lead to a lot of people coming to that same outcome, that there is something up with his mouth from a prosthetic/mod standpoint.

So much of his design is never mentioned once or referenced in any way (hightech spinal rig with tattoos under it, neuro connector, mech arm that's much older and doesn't seem related to the spine and neuroport, implants on bicep, face mod etc) that like Tyreen's scars and possible lower body Siren markings, fandom took over when it came to coming up with logical explanations for 'em.

This actually touches ground with some Ao3 comments I wanted to share as they are all Leech Lord compliant, so I'll list them here alongside links to the fics they were related to (note warnings!)

You leave no avenue for characterization unexplored. Troy's facial prostheses finally receiving backstory is amazing

- Maw (Gore/Bodyhorror)

I LOVE the idea of it being not just decorative shit on his face, but my MO for any content I make is always based around asking why, over and over, and trying to make sense of what material I'm using in the first place. The modded mouth is a popular piece of fanon but you know... why? Why would he do that shit to himself. WHY would he want to be grotesque, why would he be chasing the reaction people would have to it when canonically he seems to really not be interested in fan attention the same way Tyreen is, what's the difference to him between being adored as his persona or being lusted after as a monster, etc. I just love deep-diving into the logic behind character and world building? It's what adds meat to the bone for me.

Big 'ol character and worldbuilding / lore responses list under the cut -

He could afford better robots but these ones UNDERSTAND Ty, don't you get it?

- Good night in (tooth rotting fluff)

Hey just because it's mangled and broken, and can't perform its intended function to a degree expected of it by everyone around it... and it's got rusty sharp bits it accidentally hurts you with sometimes... and it's cranky but it doesn't mean it... and sometimes it errors out in a way that's mildly disturbing in a way you can't place.. uh.. doesn't mean you should just GIVE UP ON IT you know? He can fix them :) They will be fine :) No one should just throw away something that's trying so hard just because it's damaged... haha... :')

It's so hard seeing how much they tear each other down when they're the only thing they have left. And what a poor self-image Tyreen has beyond all that glitter and bluster...

- Wolf in sheep's clothing

The twins function well enough as a unit till tensions rise, and I was trying to seed in The Leech's influence on them in earlier work like this too - towards anyone else Ty would become MORE aggressively confident, more assured in her complete and utter dominance of the situation, her flawlessness, but against Troy who see's her for what she is, it turns inwards and eats at her instead of lashing outwards. He switches from relatively submissive around her to almost surgical levels of dissection, he knows exactly how to go for the jugular with words, and doesn't hold back. She's The Leech's mouth but he's its eyes and it's only when they lose control emotionally enough for it to claw to the surface of their psyches that you get an idea of how much it really affects them individually. GB had an absolute goldmine on their hands here of cosmic/body horror and the concept of toxic family when all you have is each other, there's so much to work with, and I figure it's a factor in why some people still really enjoy messing around with Calypso content.

I like how you allow Troy to be a disabled character, how his congenital defects and prosthetics colour his outlook and appear in ways big and small in all these vignettes. It's easy, I think, to see him as largely untroubled by his health apart from when he needs a charge from Tyreen in the game, but you allow him to struggle with his weakness.

- Chronic (Drug use)

I'm really glad to hear that's coming through in the writing because it's something I noticed a lot too. Very often when Troy, or other characters canonically disabled / chronically unwell are written it's "told" and not "shown". Chronic pain, illness, it's not something that is just a little tickbox in a life or some descriptive terms added to a character synopsis, it's something you live and deal with. There are bad days. There are times it is a negative that has to be worked around or faced in ways that aren't pleasant. It doesn't make you lesser or weak to have times where illness does leave you unable to function to a level you want to, it's not a failure for you to be unable to perform tasks when a disability or flair up means it's not viable. I feel personally that by showing scenes like this where his health and body issues do have a very visceral and impossible to ignore the effect on his ability to function, and going through his mental processes of dealing with and managing them, it brings the character across as stronger than if he never seemed to be shown dealing with symptoms or weaknesses. People are more than their disabilities and conditions, those aren't just kinda taglines to add onto a character's description and then never address. I feel like doing that in a way undermines what people deal with who manage chronic illness, pain, and who have disabilities that affect their daily lives negatively. Appreciating the effort it takes to manage them is important.

What I really like about these is that you can really understand as a reader how their dynamic must have evolved. How even before Leda's death Tyreen would have felt demonized while Troy got the attention because of his condition, because he was less willful.

- Starlight, Moonbright

Ah man, absolutely - and that shit stayed with them. It wasn't his fault and he never wanted it, but of course their parents would have had their extremely ill child at the forefront of their thoughts, especially during weeks when he was.. bad. Tyreen by nature even without The Leech's influence is a little attention seeker, she'd be the life of any party and she BLOSSOMS if she's got the spotlight, but as a little kid who's got literally no one but her parents and her brother, and who all three of which can't give her nearly as much time as she deserved? That's rough. That's really unfair. That coupled with The Leech's warping effect on their egos as they grew up and the bitterness and resentment they harbored in different ways created a reverse dynamic. She'd never be out of the Galaxy's attention again, and he'd have no choice but to take his rightful place in her shadow.

I love how you illustrate both how much more, and yet how much less Troy is now. How the blameless child, full of potential, is inextricably linked to the brutal, larger-than-life avatar he fashions.

- DeLeon ( Graphic Violence / Gore / Hallucinations)

He's molded the monster he is now out of the bones of the man he should have been - there's no going back really. There's nothing left to go back to. He broke Troy DeLeon apart to build the persona that acts like an iron lung now, suffocating him breath by breath while forcing him to still take them. That life is over, he killed it before it had a chance, but the idea of it is still there in his subconscious. Somewhere in the absolute trainwreck of Troy's brain is the tiny, flickering belief that maaaaaybe one day this will all be over and he can shuck off the bracer and spines, peel off all the shit he's covered his skin with, and just go back to not being Calypso. DeLeon here isn't some aspect of his mental state or his sins haunting him - it's The Leech, spitting venom at a host it loathes in something that's not sound or comprehensible language. His subconscious has just translated it into something it can understand - his greatest regret.

On if Borderlands Humans originated on Earth -

There's a really tenuous link between BL verse and rEarth, but it's there and can't be ignored. The cultures, accents, terminologies, so many are Earth specific despite these people being spread across galaxies, so hell yes - Earth as an emergence point makes total sense. The next question then, is why is it never mentioned - and you can cover for that with a lot of things like say, tt was so long ago that it's not relevant to anything that would ever be discussed, or it could be a mass evacuation from a catastrophe there is little record of now. I like to go with something along those lines, that the first human Siren host emergence on earth just absolutely decimated the planet. Like, we were doing fine till this random woman somewhere in the ass-end of nowhere develops weird markings overnight, then goes apocalyptic. The first Leech maybe, not understanding her powers and having them rip across continents in a spread of crackling electric death that only left husked shells of plants and animals in its wake, or the first Firehawk who went nuclear and burned the sky, or the first Voidgrasp who lost control and began to collapse the planet's core - some extreme shit that had humans fleeing en masse with barely any preparation and HUGE swathes of history and knowledge left behind. That would cover so many social things surviving into the BL verse, cultures, accents, cooking, that shit comes with us regardless of what we were able to throw into escape ships. Like so much data would be stored on any tech and data arrays within the vessels people would use to leave a dying planet even in an insane rush, but that shit waters down over time - if you're farming barely edible plants on some planet that smells like farts, are you really gonna be that stressed about teaching your kids history from a lost planet when your current concerns are not being eaten by something with 19 legs and 4 buttholes? Don't think so.

On if the other Siren entities are as influential to their hosts as The Leech -

I touch on it a wee bit throughout LL, but the others are FAR more passive and meld more to their host's whims. The Firehawk Siren wouldn't.. like.. care? If the host was burning down a planet or fighting off an evil corporation? They are removed from any nonsense happening on this side, they might not even really be able to tell, it's like asking an amoeba or a collection of sentient atomic particles what its opinion is on Brexit. That's not really its priority. The Leech is so aggressive in its control of the twins and desperation to drive them towards an outcome it desires only cause it's split, broken, removed from the song, and completely lost. We're talking a caged, half-mad animal removed from its natural environment and left totally isolated from its own kind for millennia. It's in pain, it's confused, it wants to find its way back to the song and the others and where it belongs, but it's stopped by a barrier it can't comprehend ( the twins and being ripped between them), so in its impotent rage it feeds back that hatred onto them. It's not really sentient in the way we would describe functional intelligence, but it wants, and craves, and FEELS. And it feels very, very angry.

Big thanks to @undergoingcalibrations for talking through so much of this with me!

Asks are Open!

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #sirens #leech lord #my hcs #my writing

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indiavolojones · 5 years ago

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anon it’s like you’re LOOKING at my diary ヽ(｀Д´)ﾉ

2.5kish, gen, dia/luci.

“Before you do anything stupid that involves my permanent work on your body," the distaste radiating off of Lucifer is palpable, "Try an ear piercing first. It's plenty shocking to you business types, and a helluva lot less painful.”

“So, what do you say, Lucifer?"

SPECIAL THANKS TO @canonlucidia FOR BEING THE LUCIFER TRANSLATOR WE ALL NEED TO ELEVATE OUR FICS

“Huh,” Diavolo tilts his head, “I would have never guessed you were over eighteen.”

Lucifer's ID shows none of the telltale signs of forgery, nor does the man look like a teenager. Diavolo just likes to have fun with people that seem too serious for their own good.

Besides, it would be impossible for Diavolo to misjudge the man in front of him as a child—there are no children with eyes as hard-edged as Lucifer’s. Lucifer’s drenched coat is slung over his arm, the layers beneath thankfully still dry. His long hair is twisted up in a messy, haphazard bun—something about this man makes Diavolo think this is unusual.

Probably the impeccably tailored, expensive-looking vest and suit jacket. The watch peeking out from underneath his shirt sleeve is worth at least a couple hundred dollars, if Diavolo’s instincts are right. Minutes within meeting Lucifer and he already knows that this is a man that takes an incredible amount of pride into his appearance.

Lucifer narrows his eyes, but the effect is less than intimidating to Diavolo, who has faced far worse than severe looks. Besides, the dark, exaggerated bags under his eyes can’t lie. The proud jut of his chin and squaring of his shoulders be damned; Diavolo can sense his bluff a mile away. Lucifer is more likely to pass out from exhaustion than start a brawl.

“What an interesting business model, insulting your potential clients like this.” Lucifer retorts, and Diavolo thinks he’s probably terrifying when he’s had at least eight hours of sleep.

“There are plenty of other tattoo parlors around town,” Diavolo offers with another disarming smile, his arms crossing. An asshole customer is an asshole customer, no matter how pretty their mouth is.

“No,” Lucifer insists, “It has to be this one.”

“Okay… Then you’re going to need to relax a little, because it’s not often that I have people come in during a storm demanding a full back tattoo out of nowhere,” Diavolo shrugs, passing Lucifer’s ID back to him.

"I wouldn't do any work on you today anyway. You haven't paid the deposit and we haven't had a consultation meeting. Sorry, it's my policy." Diavolo shrugs, not very sorry all and Lucifer can tell. Lucifer looks like he's about to spin on his heel and march out the door, and Diavolo, damn his soft heart, holds up his hands.

"But… if you'd like, we can set you up for a piercing session. We've got an open slot and I'll give you a returning customer’s discount."

"I want the tattoo." Lucifer says, like Diavolo's stupid for offering anything else and he has to stamp down his own mild tinge of annoyance.

"And I get that. If you can afford my rates, I'm willing to discuss." Damn it, Diavolo knows the man is trouble, but Lucifer's mouth is so pretty when it frowns, as if affronted at the possibility of him not being able to pay. "But I can tell this is some kind of act of rebellion. I see types like you all the time."

"Types like me—" Lucifer repeats, suddenly furious, and Diavolo holds his hands up placatingly.

"Hear me out." He says, and Lucifer's mouth snaps shut at the interruption.

"You’d have to be blind to not see that this is part of some… bigger thing for you," Diavolo gestures at all of Lucifer, "And you're an adult that can make your own decisions. But for now, before you do anything stupid that involves my permanent work on your body," the distaste radiating off of Lucifer is palpable, "Try an ear piercing first. It's plenty shocking to you business types, and a helluva lot less painful. So, what do you say, Lucifer?"

Lucifer doesn't look keen on it, but he at least seems to be seriously mulling over Diavolo's offer.

More time passes where Diavolo grows more and more convinced that Lucifer is about to tell him to fuck off and walk out of his life. At this point, it would probably be for the best. Diavolo is a sucker for sullen, gorgeous businessmen with obvious emotional baggage—not that he'd realized that until a scant ten minutes ago, but Diavolo's always been a bit of a masochist.

As if the day's events have finally, truly weighed down on him, with a barely visible slump to his shoulders, Diavolo sees when Lucifer relents before he hears it.

"Fine."

Barbatos' workstation is immaculate as ever, and the other works with maximum efficiency to prep his required instruments.

“You’re the one that pierced my brother, Mammon,” Lucifer says, and something in Diavolo’s brain clicks. Mammon. Lucifer’s brother is Mammon—the very thought almost makes Diavolo burst into laughter.

Barbatos is nothing if not polite as he tips his head to the side, as if trying to remember Mammon. He snaps his gloved fingers, and nods.

“Ah, yes! He’s the one that passed out, I believe.” Lucifer looks strangely… delighted by that.

“I’ll be over there, then,” Diavolo says, leaning against the door frame and gesturing back behind him at the front office. Diavolo almost laughs again when he sees the clear alarm in Lucifer’s eyes, can hear the silent why aren’t you doing it before it’s said out loud.

“Barbatos is one of the best piercers I’ve ever worked with, you’re in expert hands,” Diavolo hums, soothing.

It somehow works, because Lucifer is lowering himself into Barbatos’ chair. Not a word escapes from Lucifer as Barbatos finishes prepping the earrings, two black studs that Lucifer had chosen from Diavolo’s display case. Lucifer actually looks a little pale, and Diavolo thinks it’s adorable.

“Unless… you’d like me to hold your hand, if you’re scared?” He teases, and Lucifer’s eyes narrow in purposefully unconcealed fury for one beautiful, brief moment. It shutters away as fast as it comes, and Lucifer is staring impassively at the wall before him.

“You may leave.” Lucifer dismisses Diavolo.

Diavolo hangs out, just to be a dick. Lucifer does not flinch, or sway in his resolve past that one moment of weakness. Barbatos finishes one ear—Lucifer does not react in the slightest—and moves to the next. He tilts Lucifer’s head gently to get better access, and it makes Lucifer have to look at Diavolo in the doorway. Diavolo gives him a brilliant smile, but Lucifer glares at him the entire time.

Diavolo loves it.

Diavolo doesn’t see Lucifer for one week; but he hasn’t received any terrible reviews on Yelp, and no department official has come knocking down his door with a surprise audit, so he thinks he’s in the clear. All in all, he chalks the experience up to some kind of weird twist of fate. He’s perched on a stool behind the register at the display case when the automatic doorbell chimes. Diavolo’s lips part to welcome the guest even before he looks up.

“Hey, how’s it—oh,” Diavolo says, finally glancing up from his newspaper, “You got bangs.”

Gone is the messy, windswept bun that Lucifer had his long hair tossed into, and instead, a short, layered cut has replaced it. It makes him look younger, somehow. Or maybe he’s just gotten more sleep. Lucifer reaches up to card a hand through his hair, pushing the now loose strands out of his face.

Diavolo spares a moment of silence to mourn that he never got to see how long Lucifer’s hair was in person, “It looks nice.”

He places his cheek in one palm, grinning at his client. It would be easy to miss the light blush on Lucifer’s cheeks at his comments, but Diavolo is more perceptive than most.

The blush on Lucifer’s cheeks intensifies, and he coughs into his fist. “Thank you. The hair was a nuisance, so I cut it off.”

Silence passes, and Lucifer blinks, as if he’s not quite sure why he overshared. Diavolo takes pity on him, and tries to continue the conversation.

“How are your ears healing, then? Are you—”

“I’d like to set up a consultation meeting.” Lucifer breathes, and Diavolo blinks at him. Then he sighs.

“Before that… I suppose I should apologize for my impudence the other day, Mr. Morningstar.” Diavolo says, finally, elbows propped up on the glass counter. He watches for Lucifer’s reaction like a hawk.

“How did you—” Lucifer’s lips remain tight, before realization dawns behind his eyes. "You saw my ID the other day."

He glares, no doubt wondering if Diavolo gone to the press with information of his spontaneous request. It would be like dumping chum into shark infested waters for them to hear how the otherwise resolutely tight-lipped eldest brother is doing. Too many people are already trying to pick at the man’s psyche for more garbage to feed the greedy masses.

“I barely even noticed your last name," Diavolo waves his hand in the air dismissively, "However… it's a little hard to ignore a face like yours when it’s been plastered all over the news,” Diavolo spins the newspaper around, sliding it across to show the grainy picture of Lucifer and three of his younger brothers at the last company gala. Lucifer's proud, intimidating stare is unmistakable in its intensity.

The headline ‘FALL FROM GRACE: Lucifer Morningstar Leaves Celestial Industries over Disinheritance Scandal with Brothers’ stretches across the page in blocky, damning font.

"I didn’t reach out to any media outlets. You can relax,” Diavolo huffs, “But really? Your first move after all this is to go and get a tattoo?"

“Do all of your consultations feel like interrogations?” Lucifer shoots back, lips turned down in a frown. He does not look down at the article, his gaze keeping level with Diavolo's.

Diavolo laughs, and holds his hands up, “No, not really. I only try to make sure my clients understand that this is too permanent and expensive of a decision to make on an emotional bender. Tattoo removal is possible, but it’s costly.” Diavolo lets his own eyes narrow in the slightest, “Considering you don’t have the fortune of a multi-billion dollar corporation to fund your whims anymore, I doubt you’d have the money to spare if this is something you regret.”

“Why are you antagonizing me over this,” Lucifer grits out, hands fisted at his sides.

“I take pride in my work, Morningstar.” Diavolo stands, inherently pleased to see that Lucifer’s furious gaze has to tilt up in the slightest to continue meeting his eyes, “I have no desire to see someone else's terrible work slapped over something I created."

"If you get paid, what does it matter?" Lucifer spits, clearly reaching his wit's end. Diavolo stares at him, silent, and Lucifer shuts his eyes. He exhales through his nose for strength, and cards a hand through his hair again, clearly unused to it still. When he speaks, his tone is genuine, and he sounds tired.

"I apologize," Diavolo blinks, not expecting the other to deflate as they have. When his eyes open again, they are alight with a fervor that Diavolo's breath catches at. “I have had…. An interesting week.” His smile is wry, too tangled up with hidden meanings that Diavolo isn’t sure if he should consider it a smile at all.

“I understand that this is permanent. As permanent as being disinherited publicly.” Lucifer’s stare is unflinching, his resolve ironclad and as spirited as Diavolo’s own, “Which is why I have come to request a consultation appointment, rather than demand you do it today. You are the only one who I want for this.”

Why rests on the tip of his tongue, but Diavolo knows the hard look in Lucifer's eyes, the kind of determination that refuses to be ignored, denied. It's entirely possible that Lucifer himself does not know why, only that he must. Diavolo keeps his gaze for another moment longer, fingers suddenly twitching for a habit that he quit long ago. Barbatos would kill him if he started smoking cigarettes again anyway.

Another moment, and Diavolo allows himself to smile.

"You could have scheduled a consultation online, you know," Diavolo laughs, and moves from around the counter towards his small side office.

"Come on," Diavolo says, but Lucifer does not move, still staring Diavolo down from his place in Diavolo's front desk area. Diavolo looks up at the heavens, exhaling ruefully, "I'm assuming you have an idea of what you want."

Lucifer only takes a moment to shake himself out of his stupor, the cool, almost snobbish expression back on his face.

"Of course."

Diavolo's laugh shakes the walls of the small office, and Lucifer's face is, amazingly, deep red. Diavolo is hunched over, hands gently sifting through the sketches.

"You're insane. Your first tattoo and you want a fully detailed back piece? Not to mention it's huge."

"We’re looking at somewhere between twenty and thirty hours of work. What if you can't handle the pain? Back tattoos can be rather painful, depending on where I'm working at the time."

"That won’t be an issue." Lucifer sniffs, back straight as he sits across from Diavolo.

“It’s going to cost you,” Diavolo warns. He knows what his work and experience is worth, and charges appropriately.

“Everything does,” he says, simply. He catches the quick glance Lucifer tosses at his now bare wrist, and remembers something about Lucifer wearing one of those fancy watches last time he’d seen the other. Had he sold it?

Diavolo hums, before looking back down at the sketches in front of him.

"Did you draw these?" Diavolo asks, impressed with the amount of detail. It'll be a challenge for sure, but if Lucifer wants to keep the tattoo exactly like the source drawing, Diavolo's confident he can do it justice. However… if Lucifer allows him to add his own touch... it'll be spectacular.

"My sister," he hesitates on the word, and Diavolo knows there's a lot to unpack behind that, and immediately labels that as 'definitely do not touch', "She was the artist of our family."

Ah, was. Lucifer's gaze darkens as he stares down at the papers, and Diavolo sighs. He runs a hand through his short hair, and leans back on the couch. Crossing his arms, he huffs when he looks at Lucifer again.

"Alright, you're crazy, but it's your money."

Other assorted headcanons/thoughts:

Not exactly sure what Lu’s desired tattoo is but it’s something like this pic

Lilith has like, Just Died. Is v sad.

Getting his ears pierced felt like absolute nothing to Lucifer, but having no point of reference he’s allowed to be a lil apprehensive. (“It’s like a shot, just… really close to your face!” Thanks, Mammon.)

Mammon has awful tattoos from different artists, but ever since he discovered this Diavolo fellow, they've all been coming out beautifully. Asmo has also gone! Lu doesn't trust online reviews, and while he takes what Mammon and Asmo say with a grain of salt, he can’t deny the quality he's seen of Diavolo's is phenomenal.

Diavolo's art style is similar to Lilith's.

All the brothers are around in this lil universe. for certain Reasons, it's just Luci/Mams/Levi/Asmo that have all been disinherited for now.

It's been several years since I got a tattoo so I pulled details out of my ass sorry for the inaccuracies

as always ty for reading (ノ°∀°)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

#obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me fic #writing #dialuci #ch: lucifer #ch: barbatos #ch: diavolo #pr: dialuci

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daemongal · 5 years ago

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2, 88, and 141 with V x reader for the Drabble challenge. Thank you!!!!

Oh dear, so this one ended up waaaay longer than I expected. I got way too caught up in the moment. I have already written a prompt for 88 which I will link below. I hope you don’t mind, I combined the two prompts into one longer fic. Added a cut for the length! This one is SFW and fluffy as hell! Prompts taken from this post.Hope you enjoy!

_____

2 “How long have you been standing there?” and 141 “Use your words.”

V had left for the morning to clear out any potential demon threats from the area. His number one priority was always your safety and he couldn’t risk you getting hurt in any way. It meant that he was always thorough in his hunting and would normally not return till later on in the afternoon. This left you with a fair amount of spare time on your hands as you circled the main office of the shop.

Shadow coiled herself around your legs affectionately. You smiled and crouched to run your fingers through her fur. V had started leaving her here, almost as a watch-cat, to make sure you would be safe if anything ever broke its way into the shop; always a worrier. It was one of the many reasons you fell hard for the poet, but you were under no illusion that it was one sided. You could tell from the way he behaved with you that you were like a sister to him; something to protect and nurture. You knew he cared, but not in the same way. You sighed and stood back up.

“You know Shadow, your master is such a meanie.” She looked up at you with inquisitive eyes. “I guess he just doesn’t realise the effect he has on people.” Shadow purred in response. You stretched and drooped your shoulders with an exasperated sigh. “Right, I need to distract myself.” You looked around the room; you’d read every magazine on the desk, traversed every corner of the building, and sitting watching TV just wouldn’t do, you were too restless. Your eyes finally set on the decrepit looking jukebox, as a smile graced your lips. You walked over to the machine, checking that it was all plugged in and switched on. Everything looked fine but the damn thing still wasn’t coming to life.

“Argh, stupid thing.” You kicked it rather pitifully; still nothing, not that you expected it to work. Shadow looked at you, then to the jukebox. She approached it, pushing you out of the way with her body in the process before slashing it with a huge, morphed claw.

“Ahh Shadow, no!” The metal of the machine groaned at the impact before, surprisingly lighting up. “Huh. Well, thank you for that.” Shadow purred again, fur bristling as she rubbed herself against your leg. You smiled and began flicking through the different music choices. You wanted something with a bit of rhythm to it, you didn’t intend to just sit and listen to it after all.

“Aha, a classic!” You clicked the song into place: I wanna dance with somebody. “Can’t beat a bit of Whitney, Shadow.” You turned the volume up until it filled all of your senses. You took to the centre of the room and began swaying your body to the music. You didn’t know how to dance in any particular way, but that never meant you didn’t enjoy it. The freedom to move was liberating, and right now you just needed to free your mind. You started singing along to the chorus, getting more into the rhythm, your arms were moving at your sides, slowly raising above your head as you swung your hips in time with the music. Shadow was stepping around your feet out of curiosity, probably wondering just what the hell you were doing. You stopped for a moment to think before smirking and looking down towards shadow.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” You never really knew just how much shadow understood what you were saying. You were able to have full blown conversations with Griffon, so you always assumed Shadow had some understanding of the words you spoke, and you were always comfortable in the big cat’s presence. You held out your hands for her paws in some kind of silent hope. Her ears twitched as she leapt up towards you, planting her large paws in your hands. You beamed at the gesture as you began to sway, stepping backwards and forwards, being mindful that she didn’t fall at the movements. She was a lot lighter than you had expected her to be, although you assumed her morphing ability allowed her to change her mass at will as well.

After a minute or so, the song began to come to an end much to your disappointment. You were thankful you picked such a long song; it was the most fun you’d had in a while during these moments you spent alone, and you didn’t really want it to end. The song faded out, signalling its end as Shadow vanished from your hands, dissipating into smoke. You knew that meant V had summoned her to his side which caused a flash of concern to shoot through you. I hope he’s ok, you thought, as your eyes dropped to the floor solemnly. Your whole body jolted in shock at a sudden sound from behind you.

Clap, clap, clap.

“Gotta say kitty, didn’t take you for much of a dancer.” That was undeniably Griffons voice.

“Nor I.” You heart dropped to your feet at the poet’s voice. “Though together you put on quite the performance. I apologise for my interruption.” You didn’t turn around; your cheeks were burning too brightly to let him see you right now.

“H-How long have you been standing there?” If the ground could have eaten you up right then, that would have been great.

“Long enough…” You jumped, his voice now at your side, as he casually strolled to the jukebox, cane spinning in hand. “…to know that I wish to take this next dance.” He reached down to lean his cane against the side of the box. Griffon joined him, choosing to perch himself to V’s side, watching inquisitively as he flicked through the songs. “If you so wish it.” You fiddled with your hands at your front, your palms sweating with nerves as you nodded meekly. He hummed at the jukebox before turning to you, hand outstretched.

“Well then, shall we have this dance?” You wiped your hands on your shirt as discreetly as you could before reaching out to his hand. The mood lightened suddenly when you chuckled at his song choice: Dancing Queen by ABBA.

“Going through the ballads today then?” You commented as he took your hand in his, pulling you closer.

“I thought it was apt after your previous performance.” You blushed again as he began to step in time to the music, moving you with him. He spun you outwards, then back towards him as you collided clumsily with him, both giggling at the impact. You stopped in your tracks at the music cut off abruptly, another song taking its place.

“Shit!” Griffon squawked, as V looked at him accusingly. “I’m bailing out!” He dissipated into smoke as he re-joined with V, becoming tattoos against his skin. Shadow followed swiftly after with a snarl. In the rush of it all, you hadn’t paid attention to the new song choice, but the realisation sent a sudden flush to your cheeks: Don’t wanna miss a thing by Aerosmith. Shit, this was heavier than you needed right now.

“Ahh, I’ll change it back-” V grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him, holding you tighter than before.

“No. I think… I think I would like to leave this one playing.” Double shit!

“O-Okay.” You stuttered. He held your hand tightly in his as he snaked his long arm around your back, resting it against your hip. You gingerly rested your spare hand against his shoulder, keeping your face pressed against his chest, not wanting him to see your current expression. He began moving much slower than with the previous song, rocking you side to side, taking slow steps. You felt his chin rest against your head, his breath batting against your scalp as a shiver ran up your spine. His chest vibrated against your face as he let out a low hum. His posture was relaxed against you; you on the other hand were stiff as a board. This was by far the closest you’d ever been to the man, and it was near impossible to keep yourself composed.

“Um, V?” You asked sheepishly. “Is err… is this ok?” His chin lifted off your head momentarily.

“Whatever do you mean, dear? Have I given you some reason to believe that this would not be ok?” His voice was filled with a genuine curiosity, laced with something akin to concern.

“N-no not at all. It’s just… err… I-I dunno.” You pressed your face further into his chest, embarrassed at how you could barely even speak, let along compose a full sentence in your current situation, especially with his skin against yours, his scent filling your nostrils.

“Use your words, dear.” Easy for you to say, Mr perfectly worded poetry goth. You decided it was now or never, you may never get an opportunity like this again, to be so close and so intimate with him.

“V, I… I… I like you okay?! There I said it. Like, a lot. I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same, I get it. I’m squishy and human and boring and I don’t even really know why you’ve gone to all this effort for me. I’m not even worth your time really, you could be doing so much more than thi-” A single finger pressed against your lips, hushing you from your rambling. You hadn’t even noticed the tears that were prickling at the corners of your eyes. I’ve ruined it, my one chance and I’ve ruined it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Your internal battles were brought to a halt when V stepped back from you, giving him enough distance that he could look at your face. You turned away, you didn’t want him to see. He moved his hand to your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his.

You expected anger, confusion, maybe even disgust, but you gasped when you were met with something else completely. Affection, adoration, the softest look you’d ever received from him. His cheeks were dusted with a slight pink, his lips parted slightly as if he himself was lost for words. Your breath hitched as he leaned down to your height, his face only a few inches from yours.

“May I?” He asked quietly, as he leaned closer to your face. You didn’t back off or push him away, you merely tilted your head up as your eyes closed slowly, your eyelids feeling heavy. You inhaled in shock through your nose as his lips pressed against yours. They were soft, the kiss was gentle, warm so full of affection. It was short and chaste as he leaned away, your eyes remaining shut with the memory of the feeling. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into an almost crushing embrace. One hand rested against the back of your head as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You hummed at the gesture, wrapping your arms around his waist in return, nuzzling into his chest.

“Yes, you are indeed human,” V began, “as are you fragile. Contrary to your belief however, you are the most captivating being I have ever met. I find myself becoming more and more entranced by you each day. I spend my time protecting you as I cannot stand the thought of ever losing you. The first time you were hurt, I thought my heart would break in two, so I vowed from that day to protect you from any further harm.” Your body began to shake at his words, your cheeks were warm with tears. “Every moment of my time spent protecting you is a moment well spent. I do however need you to promise me one thing, my dear.” He broke the embrace to pull your eyes back towards his. “Never speak such words about yourself again. I will repeat myself as many times as it takes to prevent hearing you say such self-deprecating words again. Will you promise me that?”

You blinked, forcing the last few resting tears out of your eyes before meeting his again and nodding with a warm smile, mind too fogged to produce words. He leaned down to your level again.

“You needn’t worry, I do believe my feelings reflect your own. But, just to be sure…” He leaned in again, locking your lips together in a deeper more passionate kiss. His hand ran over your face, tracing your jawline, tucking stray hair behind your ear as you gripped his arm with one hand and ran the other through his hair. The music continued in the background as you were lost in each other’s embrace:

Right here with you, just like this. I just want to hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine. And just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time.

88 ��After everything…I’d still choose you.”

So I’ve already written this one on this post! :D

#fluff #sfw #v x reader #slow dancing #v #dmc #dmc v #devil may cry #ficlet #request #anon #drabble challenge #got carried away again #but warmed my own heart writing this

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

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Cullavellan pirate smut: Tales

Chapter 20 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up! As usual, half is here; read the whole thing on AO3!

In which Piper and Cullen are adorable and make everyone want to barf rainbows. I wanted to give @schoute some NICE PIPERFORD FEELS AND SMUT because she’s my bae, so HERE, ENJOY. ❤️

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

- CULLEN -

Rylen wiped his forehead on his arm and smiled at Cullen. “Our second official day on a pirate crew, and what are we doing but an honest day’s work?” he said jokingly.

Cullen smiled tiredly in return. “Truthfully, I can’t complain. It’s been years since I have done anything this menial, and I’m rather enjoying it.” He lowered his aching arms for a moment, then fondly patted the section of the Lady Luck’s hull that he was diligently cleaning of barnacles and other debris.

Rylen chuckled and shook his head, then took a sip from his waterskin before picking up his scraper once more. “All that desk duty really was wearing on you, wasn’t it, sir?”

Cullen gave him a chiding look. “Rylen, there’s no need for ceremony any longer. Please call me Cullen.”

Rylen smiled and went back to scraping the hull. “I’ll try, sir. But it might take some time to change my ways.”

Cullen shot him a quizzical smirk – it was difficult to tell sometimes if Rylen was having him on or not – then picked up his own scraping tool and continued to shuck the barnacles and algae from the side of the ship.

Some time later, when it was close to noon, Piper traipsed over to join them with her own scraper in hand. Her hair was gathered into a messy braid, and her shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to her slender curves in a very tempting fashion.

“All right, men, time for a break,” she announced. “I don’t want anyone falling over from the heat. We’ll get back to it in a couple of hours.”

Rylen lowered his scraper with a sigh and saluted Piper, then smirked when she playfully smacked the back of his head. “Get out of here, you,” she said to him. “Go find some shade.” Then she skipped over to Cullen and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Come with me?” she said. “There’s a spot in the jungle I want to show you.” She gave him a winning smile and patted the rough canvas ditty bag on her shoulder. “I have snacks and drinks.”

“I hope you mean water and not just rum?” he said.

She grinned and poked him in the belly. “Cheeky boy. Yes, I have both water and rum. Now come on.” She took his hand and tugged him along the beach toward a small stream that led from the ocean into the jungle.

They followed the stream into the jungle, and eventually it branched into two broader rivers. Piper confidently pulled him along the river branch that wound along in a westerly direction, and Cullen happily followed in her wake, admiring both the verdant lushness of the jungle and the bright silvery hair of the woman who was holding his hand.

The afternoon was hot and humid, however, and it wasn’t long before Cullen was starting to think rather wistfully of the waterskins that Piper was carrying in her bag. Just as he was about to ask for a drink, he heard the distinctive rushing sound of a waterfall.

Piper smiled at him. “Come on,” she said excitedly, and she pulled him along at a faster pace, her bare elven feet nearly silent as they picked through the ferns and moss with the familiarity of long practice. A few minutes later, they stepped into a small clearing featuring a beautiful little waterfall and a small but temptingly clear pool of fresh water.

Piper released his hand and waved grandly at the lovely scene. “Welcome to the Piper Pool!”

Cullen raised his eyebrows. “Did you discover this pool?”

She shrugged carelessly. “All right, no. It’s called Brandel’s Oasis. But I like the Piper Pool better.” She put down her ditty bag, then started unbraiding her hair. “And before you ask: no, the rest of the crew won’t show up.”

“Why?” Cullen asked in surprise.

“Because I told them I was bringing you here,” she said. She shot him a wicked grin, then peeled her shirt off.

As always, she was naked beneath her shirt, and a jolt of surprise and desire pulsed through his belly as she pushed back the mass of her silvery hair. She briskly laid her shirt in a brilliant patch of sun that had managed to cut through the canopy, then faced him with a sly smile.

“Come swimming with me,” she said. She began unbuttoning her breeches.

Cullen snapped his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop his wayward eyes from roving over her pert little breasts and the tattoos that framed them. “You… you’re certain no one else will come here?” he said feebly.

She shoved her breeches and smalls down to her ankles and kicked them away, leaving her completely naked. “Cullen, the only people who will be coming here this afternoon are you and me.” She twisted her finger coyly in a curl of hair. “If you want, of course. It’s up to you.”

He swallowed hard. Her smile was wicked but her hazel eyes were soft, and already his manhood was stiffening in his trousers. When his gormless tongue failed to find an adequate response, she grinned at him, then turned away and dove into the shallow pool with a delicate splash.

A moment later, her head broke the surface. She slicked her hair back and smiled at him. “Well, Golden Boy? Are you going to come and cool off?”

He unpeeled his tongue from the roof of his mouth and nodded. “Yes, of course,” he said. He hastily pulled off his boots and shirt, but when it came to his trousers, he paused for a moment and looked around nervously. He believed Piper when she said the rest of the crew wouldn’t appear, but what about other pirates on the island? They hadn’t seen any other ships in the bay, but that didn’t mean that no one was docked elsewhere around the island. And even if no one else was around, well… Cullen had never swum naked before. It seemed rather… exposed.

A sudden shock of cool water splashed the side of his face. He flinched, then shot Piper an affronted look. “Pardon me. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” she said gleefully. “Not one bit. Come on, Cullen. It’s very cool and comfortable here.” She floated shamelessly on the surface of the pool, giving him a full view of her naked body.

He admired her for another moment, then finally unlaced his trousers. With only a small hint of trepidation, he pushed them down and folded them neatly before turning to face the pool once more.

Piper was treading water, and her eyes were sliding salaciously over his body like a heated caress. By the time her eyes had made their leisurely way back up to his face, his cheeks were burning.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and Piper laughed. “You’re adorable when you’re shy,” she said. She patted the surface of the pool. “Come on in, the water’s fine. And contrary to what Varric likes to say, there aren’t any sharks.”

“I should hope not, since it is a freshwater pool,” Cullen said. He approached the rocky edge of the pool, then carefully stepped into the water.

The water was perfectly cool, exactly as Piper had promised, and Cullen sighed in relief as he sank into the water up to his neck. He closed his eyes tightly and submerged himself, then rose to the surface and ran his hands over his hair. Before he could open his eyes, Piper’s hands were sliding over his shoulders.

He opened his eyes. She was beaming at him, and her obvious happiness made his heart thump with an answering pulse of joy. He settled his feet on the sandy floor of the pool, and an instant later, her legs were curled around his waist and her arms were tight around his neck.

His manhood settled snugly between her legs, and he exhaled shakily and slid his hands over the cool curves of her hips. “This is… very nice,” he said lamely.

She chuckled softly and threaded her fingers through his wet hair. “Yes, it is,” she whispered. She nuzzled his nose, then licked the water from his bottom lip.

He sighed against her lips. Her tongue was delicate and warm as it traced his lips, and when she gently tugged his lower lip with her teeth, his breath caught in his throat.

He pressed his hips eagerly into hers. Her skin was soft and the vee of her thighs was the perfect cradle for his manhood, but he wanted to feel her heat.

“Piper,” he breathed.

“Mm?” She licked his lower lip once more, then moved her lips to his neck.

A helpless little groan left his throat, coaxed by the firm stroke of her tongue as she licked the tendon in his neck. He tilted his head to the side in a wordless request, and she indulged him by trailing her mouth along the side of his throat.

He floated happily in the feeling of her weightless embrace and her cool lips on his neck, then gathered his wits enough to speak once more. “Let’s… let’s move to… another place,” he said distractedly. “I want to lay you down.”

She pulled away from him with a grin. “Lay me down, hmm? And then what will you do with me?”

He blinked. Did she want him to try that naughty talk? He liked it very much when she did it, but he wasn’t entirely sure he had the, er… confidence to effectively return the favour.

“I…” He faltered, then walked her toward the edge of the pool. He made sure he was supporting her weight before emerging from the pool, then laid her down on a soft-looking patch of moss and ferns.

He stretched out over her bare body and smoothed the wet hair away from her chest. “I’d like to, er…” He hesitated, then tried again. “You’re very warm and soft.”

She bit her lower lip and leisurely stretched her arms, lifting her breasts toward him in the process. “Warm where, exactly?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. She was clearly trying to bait him.

He took a deep breath to gather his courage. “Here,” he said. He ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh, then stroked the tempting place between her legs.

She jerked, and her lips dropped open on a gasp of pleasure. She tilted her hips toward his hand, and Cullen avidly watched her face as he took her precious heat on his fingers. With every eager jerk of her hips, his blood seemed to pulse more strongly toward the apex of his thighs, and with every beat of his pulse, his boldness grew stronger until he finally found the bravery to speak again.

He slid the pad of his finger over the swollen little pearl between her legs. “I would like to taste you here,” he said. “If I may.”

Her rapturous face transformed into a grin, and she burst out a breathless little laugh. “I’ll forgive your precious manners if you do exactly that,” she said. She pushed his shoulder, urging him to move down between her legs.

Cullen smiled at her and happily fulfilled her command, savouring the freshness of the water gracing her thighs and the sweetness between her legs. She twisted and bucked impatiently beneath his mouth, but Cullen was patient and careful, watching the language of her body until she was trembling and crying out her satisfaction in a hoarse but rapturous voice.

A heartbeat later, she was grabbing his arm and shoving him down on his back on the soft patch of moss. Cullen panted breathlessly as she straddled him, and – and then –

He grabbed her hips. “Maker’s breath,” he whimpered. He was inside of her and her heat was surrounding him, that heat that he wanted so much when they were drifting in the pool together, and her palms were braced on his abdomen as she rolled her hips over his in a forceful grind.

He gritted his teeth and tried to lift his hips to thrust into her, but her movements were too smooth, too sinuous. She impatiently tossed her head, then smiled down at him. “Pull me closer, Golden Boy,” she panted.

He groaned in pleasure as she lifted and lowered herself on his manhood. “Wh-what do you mean?” he said distractedly.

“Pull me closer,” she breathed. “Move me how you want me. You want to fuck me harder?” She took his hands in hers, then placed them on her bottom. “Then fuck me harder. Hold me and fuck me.”

A fresh rush of dizzying lust pulsed through his limbs and down to his groin. He greedily settled his palms over the lovely globes of her backside, then pulled her hard against his body.

She jolted and tossed her head back, then moved her hips smoothly in time with his guiding hands, and soon she was riding him in a smooth and rapid rhythm while he gasped helplessly, his eyes travelling shamelessly across the water-dappled expanse of her skin as his pleasure ratcheted higher with every piston-like thrust of her hips.

He clenched his fingers in her smooth and lovely curves. “P-piper,” he groaned. “I… I’m–”

She kissed him, flattening her chest against his and cradling his neck in one palm as she continued to roll her hips over his, and Cullen moaned helplessly into the sleek heat of her tongue as his rapture rushed through his limbs. As the roiling pleasure of his climax abated, Piper relaxed completely on top of him with a happy sigh, and the uninhibited warmth and weight of her body on his somehow felt even better than their lovemaking.

They lay together quietly for a lovely leisurely time. The jungle was rife with the soft sounds of silence, rustling leaves and humming insects and the occasional bird call, and Cullen contentedly listened to the sounds and ran his fingers through the wet silvery waves of Piper’s hair.

She pushed herself off of his chest and smiled down at him. “I’m sweaty,” she announced. “I’m diving back in.” She kissed him firmly on the lips, then rolled off of his chest and jumped back in the pool.

Cullen watched fondly for a moment as she splashed around in the pool. He stood up and put his trousers back on, then sat down by her ditty bag and pulled out a waterskin.

She glided to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out in one smooth motion. A moment later, she was stretched out beside him on her belly.

“Pass me the dried apples, will you?” she said. “I’m starving.”

He smiled helplessly at her. She was naked still and totally unselfconscious, and Cullen affectionately ran one hand over her bare tattooed back before digging the dried fruit out of her bag. She popped a piece of apple in her mouth and chewed it with obvious relish, and Cullen chuckled.

“What?” she asked through a mouthful of fruit. “What’s funny?”

He shook his head slightly. “Nothing is funny. I was just thinking that… I admire you.”

She swallowed her food, then grinned at him and lifted one shoulder coyly. “Admire me all you like, Golden Boy. I’m naked for your pleasure.”

His blasted ears started going warm, and her smile broadened, but Cullen refused to be sidetracked. “I don’t simply mean your beauty,” he said. “I mean the way you embrace… everything. These rations,” he said with a gesture at the plain dried fruit that she was enjoying so much. “Your life on the sea. It’s not an easy life, but you make it seem so.”

She tilted her head curiously and picked out another piece of dried apple. “What do you mean?”

He toyed thoughtfully with the waterskin. “Well, scraping the hull, for instance. In the navy, we dreaded this task. We weren’t often required to do it since we frequently dry-docked, but when we did have to scrape the hull, it was a grim business. Heavy work for what seemed to be little payoff. But you and your crew…” He shook his head. “I have never seen sailors singing before while cleaning the hull of a ship. Bawdy songs, perhaps, but still.”

Piper laughed and waved one dismissive hand. “Oh, they’re just joshing around,” she said.

“That’s my point precisely,” he said. “They laugh while doing a notoriously difficult job. That’s not common in a navy crew.” And the difference, Cullen thought, was Piper herself. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Piper had spent the morning bouncing among all of her crew members, playfully insulting them and scuffling with them and generally fostering a sense of camaraderie – when she wasn’t helping to scrape the hull herself, that was.

“Well, we’re certainly no navy crew,” Piper said cheerfully. “We’re the crew of the Lady Luck! We’re – you know.” She made a vague hand gesture. “Part of the ship, part of the crew.” She smiled at him, then dropped her eyes to the piece of apple in her fingers.

Suddenly he understood. “They’re your family,” he said softly. “That’s why you work together so well.”

She ruffed her hair idly. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” She slowly pushed herself upright, and Cullen watched with a rush of tenderness as she started braiding the hair by her temple in that idle way she did sometimes when she was nervous.

Sure enough, she shot Cullen a little smile. “That’s what Deshanna said to me the day he brought me onto the ship. ‘Welcome to the family,’ he said. He didn’t know me from shit; I was just some snot-nosed brat he pulled off the gallows, but he, uh… he took me in and treated me like one of his own.” She was silent until she finished the braid, then she unravelled the tiny plait and ran her fingers through her hair. “I always tried to follow his example. If you’re with my crew, you’re one of us.” She smiled at Cullen. “Just like you’re one of us now.”

An unexpected ache squeezed his heart, and he couldn’t find the words to reply. Instead, he ran a hand over her damp hair, then leaned in and gently kissed her forehead.

She tipped her chin up, and Cullen was more than happy to oblige her by kissing her delicately scarred lips. A long, leisurely moment later, she leaned back. “What about you, Cullen?” she asked. “What’s your family like? You mentioned your sister Mia, but you don’t talk about them very much.”

“Ah. Yes.” He cleared his throat. “My family is… loud.”

Piper barked out a surprised laugh, and Cullen winced. “I – I should clarify. I love my family very much. It’s just… growing up with three siblings–”

“Three!” Piper exclaimed.

“Yes, three,” he said ruefully. “There is Mia, then myself, then Branson and Rosalie. It was… difficult to find a place to think.” He shrugged and picked out a piece of dried apple. “You would think I would grow accustomed to the clamour, but I never quite did.”

Piper stretched out on her belly again with a cheeky smile. “So you joined the navy for the peace and quiet, then? And space?”

He smiled back at her. “Ironic, perhaps, I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think of the, er, close quarters when I joined the navy. I simply wanted…” He trailed off for a moment as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “I liked the idea of having a purpose. A good one – one that protected people. And truthfully, the idea of such structure was… appealing, given the chaos I was accustomed to at home. The navy is nothing if not orderly.” He shot her a wry smile, then popped the piece of dried apple into his mouth.

Piper grinned at him and rolled onto her side. “Yet somehow, for someone who loves order so much, you’ve ended up with me.” She waved grandly at her naked body and her mass of rapidly drying – and expanding – hair.

He smiled at her as he chewed the dried fruit. Despite her image, Piper ran her ship in a much more orderly fashion than she gave herself credit for. But she would only crack a Mad Piper-style joke if he pointed this out.

He swallowed his apple, then ran his fingers through the chaotic waves of her hair. “Some things are more important than order,” he told her truthfully.

She beamed at him, then took his hand and kissed his knuckles. He squeezed her fingers, then released her hand to select another slice of apple. “You’re not wrong about the sense of family, however. I think I took for granted that I would have that sort of… bond with my comrades in the navy. But I never quite found it on the Kinloch. Or the Bronach, for that matter.”

“Have you found it with us?” Piper asked.

“I believe I have,” he said softly. “I have found it with you.”

She smiled at him again, then shyly ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. When she met his eye once more, her cheeks were slightly rosy. “I’ve decided where I want to go next,” she said abruptly.

He raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised by the change of subject. “Where?”

“To the Rialto Bay,” she said.

Cullen smiled chidingly at her. “Rialto again?”

She laughed, then pushed herself upright once more. “No, to Rialto Bay. We’ll visit the elven colonies,” she said. Then, to Cullen’s pleasure, she straddled his lap and draped her arms around his neck. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

He slid his hands over her bare hips, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face. Her expression was earnest and her eyes were bright and soft, and she was so breathtakingly lovely – not just her precious face, and not just her bold bare body, but everything about her: her kindness and her impudence, her spontaneity and her discipline, her sense of adventure and her protectiveness… Maker’s breath, she was lovely and loved, both by her crew and by Cullen himself, and with his elven lover sprawled across his lap, he felt so much at home that it was hard to believe that they had only known each other for a year.

He pulled her closer on his lap, then stroked her hair. “I would be honoured to meet anyone you wish to introduce me to,” he said.

Her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. She leaned in to kiss him, and Cullen held her close and sank blissfully into her embrace. He knew they couldn’t remain in this blissful little oasis forever; the Lady Luck needed maintenance, and the crew needed their bold and beloved leader. But as long as he had Piper here in his arms, he would savour every moment of relaxation and peace that they could find.

Read the rest of the chapter on AO3!

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen rutherford #cullavellan #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #smut #piperford #pikapeppa writes #schoute creates!#pikascout

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yourclonazepamgeneric-blog · 5 years ago

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You Are Going to Do Bad Things to Children

I watch her. I watch her. Advise my sibling and sister to watch out of the other vehicle window. I think they are playing some game. I believe that they think this is a game. They're too youthful to even consider understanding. My mom is on a crucial. She is searching for my dad. She thinks he is having an unsanctioned romance. She faces him in the parking area. He says nothing. It isn't as though he doesn't have a clue where to look yet I realize that it isn't valid. Not father. Not my dad. She is shouting at Clonazepam Generic him now. I don't realize whether individuals are looking presently, taking a gander at both of them, at this scene being happened before their eyes or turning away. I pulverize my youth journal when we get at home. I am a youngster. I am injured now forever. I don't have a clue what to do. So this is my main event. I remove page by page. I fix passages. You don't see the amount I cherished this book, this diary however I don't see yet how to communicate my sentiments, my creative mind. My dad gave me this book. Consistently he has given me a journal in January. 'This is yours. This is your diary.' And I grin up at him, and with this book in my grasp I can compose anything I need. Who do I accept? I am my dad's girl. I appear as though him. I don't look anything like her, my mom. I realize she despises me. Maybe they will isolate. Maybe they will get a separation. They commute home in isolated vehicles. I am numb, struck stupid. I don't utter a word. My mom is driving excessively quick. It is not normal for her. Her dress is over her knees. Is this what love is? Human instinct is human instinct. 'Daddy,' I state later. 'I don't believe she's your perfect partner. I don't believe you're intended for one another.' But he says nothing, he just winks.

Sex, that exchange, lovemaking for me was constantly messy. I needed to stay a virgin everlastingly, unadulterated. I needed to be a sister. I realized I must be rebuffed since the beginning, make penances, consistently sport dark, and bow when I needed to supplicate however I was not Catholic. Be that as it may, my mom set that thought on the right track out of my head. She revealed to me that there were no nuns any longer and afterward I needed to be a cleric however everyone knows how degenerate church pioneers are. I realized that I felt harmed, deprived, and forlorn even as a youngster so I discovered solace in books. In any event, when I became more established and watched films where young ladies would evacuate their pieces of clothing viewed by a stirred more seasoned man I would feel nothing. Literally nothing. Possibly it originated from adolescence. The climax in both the male and the female disturbed me possibly it originated from the way that I despised my mom who I thought had been so off-base, so inconsistent with my dad (whatever had they spoken about when he charmed her I surely don't have a clue. He was refined and taught, he had a degree and she could type thirty-five words per moment and she had a confirmation) yet I cherished my dad and venerated him. What's more, for my entire life I have needed an ideal love and not a physical love. For my entire life I have needed to be shielded from the entirety of life's tempests, other ladies, more youthful ladies, young ladies, I needed to be given a haven to compose and as a grown-up I would watch the glinting pictures of erotic entertainment quietly shouting with chuckling inside. So this is the thing that people would do to consider kids, their brilliant holy messengers, and beneficiaries to positions of authority of fixation, substance misuse and abusive behavior at home. There would be practically zero exchange. I would get either madly envious of their idiotic voices despite the fact that I knew each seemingly insignificant detail from the props to the bed was phony. For what reason would I be able? What was so amiss with me? After all they were just on-screen characters acting, doing what they were advised to do, presented, coordinated, and anticipating. I was exhausted with everything and pondered where my head was at. Of affection and sex I knew literally nothing by any stretch of the imagination. It exhausted me however not the romantic tale, not the misfortune, the reject or dismissal, the darling male or female leaving. Little skank, little prostitute, those weren't words that exhausted me, that annoyed me. What's more, as I grew up the young lady in me kicked the bucket when my mom mentioned to me what occurs right now, is said right now in the house. I grew up rapidly. Misuse will do that to you. Maltreatment on account of your mom, aunties (her sisters, her sister-in-law) the Johannesburg individuals, menaces on the play area, pompous male educators, and your first sweetheart when you are away from home, ten years more seasoned than you. Did he drive me to do things I would not like to do? It hurt. They state it generally does the first run through round. I kept in touch with him letters however I was not in affection with him. The picture I had of my folks watching two exposed young ladies swimming, kissing with tongue, feeling each astonishingly out of the water, contacting one another, finishing each other here and there, stroking their arms, their bodies. They sunbathed naked. It was the first occasion when I had seen bosoms, the curve of a lady's figure and full frontal nakedness. What's more, something within me, a little voice said that my future life as a girl who adored both her mom and father and a future life as spouse, darling and mother had not exclusively been disrupted at the end of the day decimated until the end of time. I was only a kid who ought to have been sleeping in bed dreaming. Endeavored suicide is finished with the two eyes shut. This isn't my time. No passage of white light. Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. The confession booth writers. Sylvia, Abigail the invigorated crazies. Take a gander at me. The South African repulsiveness story. A scene made of bars at the window, specialists, and therapists.

The mental meltdown, bipolar, dysfunctional behavior, insane, crazy, lunacy isn't composed on the body except if you tattoo it on your arm with an extremely sharp edge or cutting. You can be the ideal kid yet can your mom splendidly love you in an imperfect world, in her defective world. She didn't need me with my easy merits, my stage plays and practices, my accounts, God help us, she particularly would not like to peruse my accounts. 'Leave it alongside my bed.' She said. 'I'll peruse it before I nod off.' And I did yet she had progressively significant work to do. Shower, dress, make morning meals, and go to work. 'Gracious, I'll read it later.' She said at whatever point I stood up to her about it. She was doing even considerably more significant work at that point. Watching her drama with her stockinged feet up on the couch seat, her impact points by it with her eyes half-shut, marvelous, Hitler however without the mustache and the mass of oppression. 'Kiss me.' She requested from my asthmatic sibling wearing his cowhand cap pulling his wagon around the family room. Also, I made unlimited cups of tea. Also, as I made each cup my heart would load up with trust that she would state, 'My shrewd young lady. You're growing up so quick.' But obviously she never did. We were foragers. We ate what we could discover in the kitchen and if daddy wasn't meditative he would go out and get us something to eat for dinner. My dad would cry a great deal and I would put my arm around his shoulder, scarcely arrive at it however and ask him, 'Would you like to discuss it?' yet that simply made him cry more diligently and it was much increasingly hard to make him stop. I was constantly close to the highest point of my group however there were issues, harms. They were continually battling.

'Great night mummy. Rest tight. Sweet dreams. I love you.' No answer consequently and it skips off dividers. I am turning thirty-five verging on thirty-six. It will be my birthday in two months. Valium close by (in every case close), Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke beside my bed, Poems by Sylvia Plath Chosen via Carol Ann Duffy, Poet Laureate. Untainted in a grown-up world. The main world where I have a place is media, that and the nearby Olympic-sized pool. Stopped up in a confined youth proceeded, sentences butchered by chuckling, hacking, a closeted assortment of books (course books, verse and short story compilations, a string of J.M. Coetzee's books line a rack, The Childhood of Jesus the most recent), obscurity, traffic fills within me that was consistently the trade. I can just nod off with a bunch of resting pills. I take long snoozes toward the evening and wake up in close murkiness. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pax. Epilizine. Eltroxin. Melatonin. Clonazepam Generic. Ativan. I have no tendency to go to Paris. Rilke abhorred it there however then again Hemingway appeared to have taken to it like water away from a duck. In any case I experience the ill effects of vertigo. For the most part individuals go to Paris since it is sentimental. Isn't the Eiffel tower sentimental? You won't get me up there. I am a masochist and become restless as damnation when I am acquainted with novel individuals and spots. It alarms me. What a snicker? Did she applaud? Is it true that she was applauding? Is it accurate to say that she is glad for the way that I am a storyteller and an artist, not a government official, not a legislator's significant other or anyone's better half so far as that is concerned and not the writer or narrative movie producer I needed to be in secondary school? At the point when she sat down in the auditorium was she pleased, was she radiating from ear to ear like the Cheshire feline. Gloom is exhausting. Be that as it may, I'm utilized to it now. Like clockwork I'm transported off for a week or so to a clinic to recuperate from psychosis, mind flights. What an outing for my conscience? I can't rest. I can't eat. My sister never drops by. She doesn't live here right now, this hellhole any longer. She lives in Johannesburg. My magnificence days are finished. I'm apprehensive they've gone dead simply like all the men throughout my life. The main thing that is waited is my continuous flow composing, my journaling and my easy chair voyaging and the individuals that I love the most on the planet kicking the bucket on me when I wouldn't dare hoping anymore disregarding me to now hit the dance floor with the bold, swim with the fishes, eat dangerous sardines on toast that have an aftertaste like salt and light. The rooms are vaporous in the house. I need to make sure to take in when I return home from the emergency clinic. There's not a lot of they can accomplish for me there but rather hang tight for the fantasies, the psychosis to pass however the a sleeping disorder remains with me, winter's unresolved issue me home. I'm a claustrophobe in the word related room. They leave m

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maliciouslycreative · 7 years ago

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created for @spnpolybingo Title: Player Three Is Now Connected Ship: Dean/Castiel/Michael Square: Retail Workers Rating: T Word Count: 2063 AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11242086 Tags: Alternate Universe: Retail, Video Games, Mass Effect, Polyamory, Humour, Awkwardness

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Dean would be the first to admit that working at Final Encounter Gaming wasn’t how he’d planned to spent the last 5 years of his life. He’d certainly never intended to stay this long because honestly the pay was kinda shit and retail had a tendency to suck the life right out of you. Not to mention his boss, Zachariah, knew nothing about gaming except that there was a lot of money in it. So here Dean was, working a shit job for shit pay just because at this point Zachariah let him have pretty much free reign of the store.

So when Zachariah waltzed in on Tuesday morning Dean knew something was up. Zachariah never came in this early on a Tuesday. “Good morning, Dean-o!” Zachariah practically sung.

Dean plastered the biggest fake smile on his face that he could muster. “Good morning, boss.”

“So, I know you’re pretty good for staff right now but my nephew needed a job so he’s going to be starting this Friday. He only needs a couple shifts a week, so I’m sure you’ll have no issue working him into the schedule.

“That sounds great,” Dean lied through his teeth.

“Good to hear!” Zachariah clapped Dean on the shoulder then started heading to his office in the back. “I told him to come in while you were here Friday so you can show him the ropes.”

“Sounds great...” Dean made a disgusted face after Zachariah was out of view. This was a disaster. Every one of Zachariah’s family members that he’d given a job to were a nightmare to work with.

First had been Bartholomew. The guy had walked in like he owned the place and had expected Dean to do everything he asked. He’d known virtually nothing about video games and had been endlessly condescending to customers and employees alike. Dean had been ecstatic when Bartholomew had gotten into law school across the country.

Next had been Hael. She’d seemed OK at first but had quickly descended into an unholy terror. She’d hated how sexist and vulgar so many games were and wasn’t afraid to express her opinion on them. Dean totally agreed but he also really wanted to keep his job and scaring any and all of the customers away wasn’t the way to do it. She also had this super intense look in her eyes that screamed murder. He endured nearly six months of her murder glares and watching teenage boys leave the store in tears before she got a job with the IRA as a tax auditor.

Lastly there was Samadriel. Samandriel wasn’t a bad employee and really Dena liked the guy. He was smart and funny and, unlike Zachariah’s last two relatives, really loved video games. He was however extremely shy and horribly clumsy. Yah Dean was prone to doing awkward things when he got nervous but Samandriel had it down to an art form. He’d even managed to give Dean second hand embarrassment a couple of times. On at least three occasions Dena had to coax a sobbing Samandriel out of the bathroom with a chocolate bar. After four months he’d gotten a job at a software design company where he never had to deal with the public again.

So wen Friday rolled around Dean had his bar set pretty low for whoever this Castiel guy was. All Zachariah had told Dean was that Castiel was a good Catholic boy who was going to school to get a business degree. Honestly Dean was expecting a younger version of Zachariah himself.

“Umm, excuse me.” Someone said from the other side of the counter.

Dean jumped a little. He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t even heard anyone enter the store. Putting on his best retail smile Dean turned around and locked eyes with a drop dead gorgeous guy. He did a quick once over (dark sex hair, blue eyes, and holy shit was that a tattoo peeking out from under his left t-shirt sleeve?).

“Hi! How can I you to be helped. I mean I can help you. No. Fuck. Shit I mean...” Dean took a deep breath. “Welcome to Final Encounter, how may I help you today?”

The gorgeous guy chuckled and stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Castiel and I’m looking for...” he squinted at Dean’s name tag, “you apparently.”

Dean wanted to die. “I’m so sorry.” Dean took Castiel’s hand and shook it. “I’m not usually this much of a disaster. You’re not really what I was expecting.”

“Oh?” Castiel quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You don’t seem like an asshole and you’ve got a tatty and you’re like super hot.” Dean’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d said.

This however caused Castiel to throw back his head and let out a full bodied laugh. After he finished laughing he shot Dean a gummy smile. “I think we’re going to be to get along great, Dean.”

And boy did they get along. Castiel quickly became Dean’s favourite coworker. Sure Castiel’s video game knowledge was pretty limited since he’d only been able to play them since he moved away for college. He’d however listen with rapt attention whenever Dean would talk about various games. The two had even taken to getting together at least once a week for a few hours to play games together to help fill in the gaps of Castiel’s knowledge.

The only downside was the ever mounting sexual tension. For one Dean made a point of never fooling around with coworkers. It never ended well. For two Castiel wasn’t out to his family. He was very unashamedly gay but he didn’t want to make a fuss with his family until after he had graduated since his college was being paid for by his parents. So the two of them had settled on shamelessly flirting with each other. Though it had taken nearly all of Dean’s self control not to ravage him when Castiel had pulled up his shirt sleeve to reveal an N7 tattoo.

That had been nearly three weeks ago and it was still driving Dean wild. It probably didn’t help that Castiel had just casually slapped his ass while walking by. Fuck, Dean was going to have to go out to find a lay because his right hand and mshenko fanficiton weren’t cutting it any more. Thank god they were like 10 minutes from closing.

The door swung open and someone entered the store. Dean had to swallow a sigh. He sure as shit didn’t want to deal with any last minute customers. Dean put on his best retail smile and turned around. “Hi, how can I help you tonight?” He felt so lucky that he didn’t look into those gorgeous green eyes until he was done saying his spiel because he definitely would have fucked it up. His hair was perfectly styled and, so help him, the guy was wearing a black wasitcoat over a dark grey dress shirt. This was not helping Dean’s boner situation.

“Hi, I was wondering if you could give me a game suggestion?” He shot Dean a million dollar smile and then very obviously looked Dean up and down.

“Uhh, sure,” Dean said, gripping the counter tightly.

“You see...” the guy leaned in closer and Dean got a whiff of his cologne. He smelled fucking divine. “I just love Mass effect. The story’s fantastic and I just love the characters. Especially Kaidan, you know? I just want a piece of that sexy Canadian beefcake.”

“Yeah,” Dean swallowed hard and tried to not look at the guy’s lips. Of course instead he made the mistake of locking eyes with the guy and holy shit he was giving him bedroom eyes. Fuck Dean was so weak. He was going to ask this guy out. He was so done with being professional. “Yah, Kaidan’s my favourite too. So how about we-”

“Michael?” Castiel was now standing next to Dean, hands on his hips, glaring at the guy across the counter. “What are you doing?”

“Well, you said Dean was absolutely adorable when he got flustered so I just had to come see for myself.”

Castiel let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re terrible.”

“But you love me.” Michael said.

Castiel’s face softened and he smiled. “I do.”

“What?” Dean croaked.

“Dean, this is my fiance, Michael.” Castiel gestured at Michael.

“What?!” Dean’s mouth fell open and he glanced between Michael and Castiel nervously. Shit fuck goddamn fucking shit how had he missed the fact that Castiel was engaged. ‘I should uhh...” Dean started inching towards the back room. “Just let you two do your thing or whatever. I’ll be back in a few!” Dean all but sprinted to the back.

When he got to the stock room he practically slammed the door shut. Goddamn he was so stupid. Of course a guy like Castiel had a fucking fiance!

Dean grabbed the broom near the door and began aggressively sweeping the floor because he needed something to do. He was on his second pass of the floor when the door swung open and Castiel entered. Dean froze like a raccoon that had just been caught digging through your trash at 3AM.

“Dean,” Castiel tried to being but Dean just waved him off.

“No, it’s cool. You got a fiance. It just surprised me is all. I’m so fucking sorry that I was so goddamn unprofessional and was always flirting. That was really uncool of me and-”

“Dean,” Castiel gently laid a hand on dean’s shoulder, “I’m the one who should be apologising”

“No man, really you-”

“No, Dean, listen-”

“Cas, it’s cool, we’re cool-”

“Dean! Just shut up and let me explain!” Castiel’s grip tightened slightly on Dean’s shoulder then he let out a little sigh, released Dean and stepped back.

Dean’s mouth snapped shut and he stared at Castiel in surprise. He’d never seen Castiel yell before.

“I didn’t tell you because… well I liked you, Dean. And I wanted to see if this could go somewhere.”

“So what, I was just gonna be your booty call? Your man on the side? And then you were gonna go home every night to Michael” Dean was practically yelling by the end, the pitch of his voice steadily rising with the volume.

Castiel sighed. “Of course not, that wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Look, Michael and I have been together on and off since we were 16. We love each other very deeply and we’re extremely honest with each other. I would never cheat on him. However we’re not entirely what most people would call a conventional couple. We have somehwat of an open relationship and we’re both polyamorous.”

Most of the anger Drained out of Dean as the information sank in. “And let me guess, most guys who find this out only want a quick threesome then they split.”

“Yah,” Castiel nodded.

“So you thought I wouldn’t be interested if I knew about Michael.”

“Essentially.” Castiel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Though now I see I handled this poorly.”

“We both kinda did...”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment until Dean let out a small sigh. “I would uhh… i’d stick around. You know. For like more than a threesome. I’ve been going nuts because I liked you so damn much but I didn’t want to get mixed up with a coworker. So I’ve been masturbating so fucking much...” Dean’s eyes widened at the realisation of what he just said.

Castiel smirked. “well, I think Michael and I have a solution to your masturbation problem. But first,” Castiel took the broom out of dean’s hands and set it against the wall. “We should finish closing up the store. Then Michael and I would like to take you out for dinner. Well OK I guess midnight Denny’s because I have no idea what else is even open that isn’t a bar or fast food.”

“I happen to really like Denny’s.” Dean grinned.

“Well then, it’s a date.” Castiel grinned back, took Dean by the hand, and led him towards the front of the store.

It was official, Castiel was the best coworker Dean had ever had. And, as he found out later that night, one of the two the best lovers. And, even later on, one of the two best boyfriends Dean could ever hope for.

#spnpolybingo #spn #dean/castiel/michael #castiel/michael #destiel #dean winchester #michael #castiel #fanfic #stacey writes #hey look this was the thing i was writing by hand the other day #i actually finished a thing #i am so fucking behind on my poly bingo #but this is a start

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tammyheron631-blog · 7 years ago

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Circumstance, History, Definition

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tashaedgerton-blog · 7 years ago

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A Technique To Enhance Motivation In The Workplace

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gothicvalentine · 7 years ago

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(1) Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed? Closed

(2) Do You Have Freckles? No, but I have moles

(3) Can You Whistle? Somewhat. I can’t whistle songs or anything.

(4) Last Song You Listened To. Currently listening to Toad the Wet Sprocket, Walk on the Ocean

(5) What Is Your Favourite Colour? Purple

(6) Relationship Status. Single

(7) What Is The Temperature Right Now? 86 degrees Farenheit

(8) Did You Wake Up Cranky? I usually do. I’m not a morning person.

(9) How Many Followers? 110

(10) Zodiac Sign. Pisces

(11) What Is Your Eye Colour? Green

(12) Take A Vitamin Daily? No

(13) Do You Sing In The Shower? Not usually

(14) What Books Are You Reading? A lot of nonfiction about fighting depression and developing mindfulness and meditation

(15) Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14.

(16) Favourite Anime? Black Butler ( Kuroshitsuji)

(17) Last Person You Cried In Front Of? My therapist

(18) Do You Collect Anything? Books

(19) What Did You Have For Lunch? Orange Chicken and it was honestly about the worst Chinese I’ve ever had. It was cheap, but still not worth it! :(

(20) Do You Dance In The Car? LOL, yeah sometimes

(21) Favourite Animal? Dogs (wild or domesticated)

(22) Do You Watch The Olympics? No

(23) What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed? 11 pm

(24) Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now? No, I rarely wear makeup

(25) Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean? Pool, I don’t like critters brushing up against me, especially if I can’t see them, but I’ve never been to the ocean so maybe you can see critters in the ocean?

(26) Favourite Tumblr Blog? Oh, this is difficult. I think maybe Sixpencee

(27) Bottled Water Or Tap Water? I prefer bottled but can’t afford it

(28) What Makes You Happy? Music

(29) Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now.

(30) Do You Study Better With Or Without Music? Without

(31) Dogs Or Cats? Definitely dogs even though I only had cats until my 10th birthday

(32) If You Were A Crayon What Colour Would You Be? Deep purple

(33) PlayStation Or Xbox. Playstation

(34) Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean? Maybe ocean? I have swam in lakes and they’re usually murky. I’ve never been to the ocean so I don’t know what that would be like.

(35) Do You Believe In Magic? Maybe?

(36) What Colour Shirt Are You Wearing? Teal blue

(37) Can You Curl Your Tongue? Yes

(38) Do You Save Money Or Spend It? Oh, I definitely spend it. I have $0 in savings

(39) Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You? No

(40) Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now? Cullen Rutherford from Dragon Age

(41) Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly? Yes

(42) Are You Easily Influenced By Other People? Not particularly, but I hate, hate, hate conflict so I usually go along with others and don’t disagree with them

(43) Do You Have Strange Dreams? I rarely remember my dreams but sometimes they’re really odd

(44) Do You Like Going On Airplanes? Yes

(45) Name One Movie That Made You Cry. Missisippi Burning

(46) Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds? Sunflower seeds

(47) If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be? HIM (Ville Valo)

(48) Are You A Picky Eater? I can be

(49) Are You A Heavy Sleeper? Yes

(50) Do You Fear Thunder / Lightning? Not until I start thinking about how many fires are started by lightning then I get anxious and paranoid

(51) Do You Like To Read / Write? I used to like reading more than I do now, but with my depression I have trouble concentrating for more than a few pages at a time so I prefer short stories. I enjoy expressing myself in writing but I don’t write fiction or anything.

(52) Do You Like Your Music Loud? Hell yes!

(53) Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents? Um, carve pumpkins even though I’m not good at it because then I can roast the pumpkin seeds afterwards

(54) Put Your Music On Shuffle, What Is The First Song That Came Up? F U Betta by Neon Hitch

(55) What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather) Fall/Autumn

(56) What Are You Craving Right Now? Frosted Sugar Cookies

(57) Post A Screenshot Of Your Tumblr Feed.

(58) What Is Your Gender? Female

(59) Coffee Or Tea? Usually tea, I like coffee but it tends to upset my stomach

(60) Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About? I’m out of school

(61) What Is Your Sexuality? Heterosexual

(62) Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning? No

(63) Favourite Pokemon? Vulpix

(64) Favourite Social Media? Tumblr

(65) What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories? I don’t use Instagram so I don’t have an opinion on them

(66) Do You Get Homesick? Yes, if I’m away from home for like a week

(67) Are You A Virgin? No

(68) What Shampoo And Conditioner Are You Using Right Now? The Body Shop’s Ginger Shampoo and Banana Conditioner

(69) If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free? I’d rent a crappy motel room. I don’t think I could fall asleep in my car and I think that’s illegal and I have bad luck so some cop would come harass me and wake me up with my luck after falling asleep anyway

(70) Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life? Both my mother and father have now passed away

(71) Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters? I want to see Thor Ragnarok

(72) Do You Miss Your Ex? It’s literally been years since I’ve dated but all my exes were assholes who cheated on me so no. I don’t miss any of them.

(73) What Is Your Favourite Quote Right Now? I don’t have one at the moment.

(74) What Eye Colour Do You Find Sexiest? Green or Brown

(75) Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set? Yes

(76) What Was The Last Thing You Ate? Orange Chicken

(77) What Games Do You Have On Your Phone? I don’t have any games on my phone, just book apps and other stuff. My phone is crappy and doesn’t have room for any games unfortunately

(78) Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not? I don’t know if I would since it’s been so long since I’ve taken a CPR class and if something happened, the homeless person could sue you. I remember a case where someone tried to save someone else’s life and they did but the person was brain damaged or something so the family sued? I don’t know. You could be saving a saint or an asshole. I’d get the asshole.

(79) Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight? Nope. I had my internet shut off and I’ve been having to come to the library and they won’t let you stay on the computer that long.

(80) Stalked Someone On A Social Network? Um, sorta. Does it count if it’s a celebrity? For a while I kind of stalked Chai Deveraux from Jesus on Extasy

(81) Do You Like Meeting New People? Not usually. I’m an introvert with avoidant personality disorder (AVPD) or at least traits of AVPD.

(82) Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them. I don’t wear jewelry either.

(83) Do You Sleep With Your Bedroom Door Open Or Closed? I sleep downstairs in my living room on my futon because I don’t have good climate control for my upstairs bedroom. No air conditioning up there and in the winter, it gets so cold the walls have frost on them (on the inside of the house).

(84) What Are Three Things You Did Today? Went to eat Chinese, went to the local coffee shop for tea, came to library to use internet

(85) What Do You Wear To Bed? Just a shirt and my undies

(86) List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now. I don’t use beauty products cause I’m weird. Not trying to attract anyone and with terrible depression, brushing my teeth and bathing is a struggle. Anything more is impossible.

(87) Are You A Day Or Night Person? Night person for sure.

(88) List All Of Your Video Games On Your Phone, Console Etc. Oh no, I have too many at home. Counting the ones for systems I no longer have, I think I have probably a couple hundred. I’m not listing them all. My favorites are rpgs, so Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Witcher, Final Fantasy, Skyrim, Darksiders, and many, many more.

(89) Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened. I have had this dream a few times where some sort of monster or killer (it’s been a long time since I’ve remembered having this dream) keeps coming after me and killing everyone and everywhere I go, it follows. It’s terrifying because I can’t escape it at home or at school (I was younger when I had this dream but I had it again years later so I may still be having it still but don’t remember?)

(90) Favourite Soda Drink? Sprite

(91) What Sounds Are Your Favourite? Violin and flute

(92) Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More? I guess jeans because I never wear sweats, but I wear “business casual” pants most of the time since they comprise most of my wardrobe

(93) How Do You Look Right Now? Probably like shit. I’m just wearing a teal shirt with black pants and brown sandals, but no makeup or jewelry

(94) Name Something That Relaxes You. Music

(95) What Tattoo Do You Want? I want to get a bat tattoo and maybe a tattoo of the sword of mercy from Dragon Age for Cullen since he was a templar? Oh, and I want to get a picture of my favorite dog ever, Chai, tattooed on me. She was perfect and she passed away in late April and I miss her so, so much! She was an adorable rat terrier/miniature pinscher girl and she was black and rust with her full tail and these pretty floppy ears that were SO soft!

(96) Favourite YouTuber? I think Facts? It’s a bunch of Irish people who try different ethnic foods and watch TV and stuff and it’s funny to see their takes on American foods, tv, and culture. Of course I like to see how other people live and how that’s different from how I live as an American and I like to see what people from other parts of the world think about stuff we have in America and I like to see what they have but then wish I could try some of it over here.

#questions and answers #me #personal #i was bored #sorry #lol

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