#i feel like i should clarify that this is my partner and not some google image or me im calling adorable lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dabislilbaby · 2 years

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I Will Always Find You

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Dabi x f!Reader

A/N: I would just like to say. I don't understand why a minigun is called a minigun when there's absolutely nothing "mini" about it.😐

When I was picturing this scene in my head, I knew what the imagery was that I wanted to create, but I didn't know what the weapon was called. Googled it. And I was upset bc I was worried that my imagery wouldn't come across the right way since the name didn't match what it looked like😭 so I hope ya'll know what I'm talking about when I mention it lmao

Also, idk how often this is used or not but just in case, I wanna clarify that v/n means villain name :) or just use ur real name if you want lol

Anywaysss, as always feedback is appreciated and I hope u guys enjoy❤️

@haru-x-ren

Warnings⚠️: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, kissing, groping, fingering choking, biting, hair pulling, rough/aggressive, begging, dacryphilia, praise kink mentions of blood and bruising.

Summary: After a mission gone-wrong, Dabi is taken away into police custody and you don't see him again for 3 years. When you do, he's a little different. Reconsidering his villain path and how it affects you. But most importantly, he's needy to feel what he's been missing out on for so long.

Word Count: 7.1k

Y/N quirk: "Vision". When activating your quirk, you can see and hear thru objects that abstruct your view. For example, you can see thru a wall and listen to the conversation happening in the other room as if you were standing there yourself. Your irises glow (any color you'd like) when activated. It's not a very flashy quirk but very useful to your partner in crime. It makes getting Intel so much easier as well as thoroughly planning out attacks. But to make up for the lack of flashiness, y/n likes to tinker with support items, much like Hatsume.

"Ready?" Dabi asked, raising a brow. You nodded your head with a big smile on your face. "You remember the signal?"

"You should know better than to come at us alone" You recited the line the two of you had gone over multiple times, mocking his tone of voice. The corner of his lips turned up into a small smirk. "Good girl." He paused, adjusting the metal cuffs on his sleeves. "Alright, let's go make some chaos, baby" he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips before pulling away and stepping towards the door of the large building. You lifted your right arm that held a device you made yourself, strapped to your wrist. A grappling hook released from the small cannon and hooked on to a ledge a few floors up. "Hey" you called out to him one last time. He turned his head to look at you. "Be careful, okay?" He smiled at you in a way that said "don't worry, everything will be okay." And he gave you a wink. With that, you clicked the button on the inside of your gloved palm, sending you up to where your device was hooked to.

Once you reached the ledge, you peeked thru the window, assuring that no one was in the room. Thankfully, the window was unlocked so you didn't have to make any extra noise by breaking the glass. Once you slipped thru the window, you snuck out of that room and into an empty hallway. You'd memorized the floor plan for this building, determining that a small broom closet on the second floor was right above where Dabi would be. You found said broom closet, double checking to make sure no one was there to see you. You closed the door to the small, compact room. You pulled out another, bigger device from your backpack. The one you always had on hand at every mission, full of all your little projects. This weapon is about as big as your torso, and very powerful. You position the legs of the weapon on the floor, and raise your hand to your neck. You press a small button on your necklace. Dabi's matching one vibrated against his collar bone, alerting him that you were in position. You activated your quirk, looking thru the floor and seeing the small group of people below. Pro-Heroes Kamui Woods and GunHead were in the room, surrounded by a few smaller up-and-coming heroes.

You watched as Dabi waltzes into the room below, catching the attention of the heroes. You angled your weapon so that once it breached the floor, it was headed straight at the two pros. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Dabi spoke in a cocky tone of voice. That attitude of his you loved so much. "Dabi!" Kamui called out. He began to extend his tree-like arm in an attempt to capture him before he had a chance to attack, but Dabi was too quick. He immediately put up a wall of blue flames, separating him and the pro Heros. "Come on now. You should know better than to come at us alone." That was your cue. You pulled back the lever on the weapon in front of you, and hit the small red button on the side. There was a loud noise and you knew you had breached the floor. Your hit evidently missed GunHead, who had stepped out of the way only moments before, but hit Kamui head on.

He was on the floor, bleeding, and missing an arm. He cried out in pain and you grabbed the weapon, dropping thru the whole you had created. Once you landed with your knees bent, you stood up straight right next to Dabi. You grabbed the handle on the side of your weapon, holding it like a minigun and aiming it in their direction. You pulled the lever back in its original position, switching the weapon to rapid fire. You smiled wide. "Miss me?" GunHead started shooting in your direction, but Dabi was quick to extend the blue wall. Surrounding you both in flames. This was so none of the heroes could see you and pin point your exact location in the room. Of course a heros first priority is to keep people safe, so you knew full well that he wouldn't fire aimlessly into a room full of people without a definite target. But with your quirk, you could see thru the flames just fine. You immediately started firing your large weapon at the heroes, taking them all down so easily.

You and Dabi made a great team. When the two of you met, you were just joining the league of villains. Tho he had already been a member for well over a year at that point. Dabi trusted no one. But he somehow opened his cold, chained up heart and came to trust you immensely. Almost more than he trusted himself even. The two of you were true partners in crime. Creating more chaos together then either of you ever could have under the control of the league. You both had become feared among the majority of the population, with your relentless attacks against hero society.

We'll bring them all to their knees.

Something that had become almost a motto for you and Dabi. And neither of you could have ever imagined getting as far as you have.

As soon as you thought you're mission was over. Goal accomplished and message sent, someone came busting thru the wall to your left. An unexpected participant. You didn't have much time to react as you watched the hero students from U.A. coming in your direction. "Shit." You mumbled under your breath.

Dynamite was the first to charge you head on, throwing a blast that knocked you across the room. Deku wasn't far behind, managing to land a blow on Dabi. He got to his feet quickly and started fighting the young hero. Throwing balls of fire at him left and right.

You didn't plan for this. The two of you were supposed to be gone by the time any more heroes showed up. It threw you off and suddenly you couldn't focus. Dynamite charged at you again and suddenly a wave of blue flames knocked him from your trajectory. "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!" You heard Dabi scream as he threw Dynamite away from you. The look on his face was demonizing. He was angry. Angry that anyone dared to lay a hand on you. You were his. And he was extremely protective over what belonged to him. You were the only real home he'd ever known. And he'd be damned if he was gonna let some punk kid hurt you.

Shit was going south. You watched, tucked in a corner, as the look on Dynamite's face shifted to something more psychotic. "ILL FUCKING KILL YOU, SCAR FACE" He screamed, charging at Dabi. You finally come to your senses as you realize your boyfriend is facing two heroes all by himself. You start to internally panic, but keep your calm on the outside. You stagger to grab the weapon you dropped when being flung across the room. You aimed it high, rampaging the two of them with hot bullets. It distracted them just enough for Dabi to blast them both backwards and put up another wall of flames. You grabbed his arm and rushed out of the building. As soon as the two of you get just a few feet away from the building, you pressed another button that was hidden in the waist band of your pants, connected to your belt. It set off all of the bombs you hid in the building a few days prior. Dabi groaned in pain as you pulled him into a back alley way. "Always thinking ahead, aren't you doll?" He coughed on his words, spitting up blood in the process. "That should buy us some time, but not much." He clenched his abdomen where you noticed blood was starting to pool on his white shirt.

"shit, baby are you okay?" You put your hand over his on the wound. He coughed again. "I'm fine, but you gotta get outta here." Your gaze left his bloody torso and met his half-lided blue eyes. "What?" You said, confused. "I think they went this way!" You heard a faint voice calling in the distance. Dabi heard it too. His expression was unreadable. "You have to-" he coughed up more blood. "You have to go y/n."

"What? No! Touya I'm not leaving you here!" He was quick to retort. "I said GO!" He yelled at you. "...I'll be alright." His voice switched to a softer tone. You looked at him with wide eyes, a tear falling from one of them. "I'll find you, okay?" He put his hand to your cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "I will always find you." He kissed your forehead with a heavy breath from his nose.

"Now leave and get somewhere safe, please." He pushed you away, and as he said those words, a few more heroes came around the corner into the alley way. Without taking even a second to hesitate, Dabi bursted out the biggest cloud of blue flames you'd ever seen him make. He was straining himself, pushing far past his limit. You could see it on his face. "GO!" He screamed. You didn't have time to think so you did as he asked. You ran.

You made it behind a building and used your grappling hook to get to the roof. Once on the rooftop, you peered over the edge. You weren't ready to leave him there, not yet. Even if he did beg you to go.

You watched as Dabi continued to push himself, and suddenly his flames died out, black smoke pouring from his skin. Dabi slumped over and fell to his knees. You were confused for a moment, and then you realized. You watched Erasure, hair defying gravity and eyes glowing red, wrapped Dabi in his white scarf. Dabi didn't have the energy to resist. He was badly hurt, and now vulnerable without his quirk. Tears began to well in your eyes and you covered your mouth with your hand, not daring to make a sound.

Dabi smirked with his head hanging low. "Long time no see, old friend." Erasure stepped closer to him. "Where is she?" Dabi stayed silent. Erasure tightened the hold on him, making him groan in pain. "Where. Is. She." He demanded, punctuating every word. Dabi laughed hysterically, lifting his head to meet Erasure's gaze. He spit blood in his face before he finally answered. "You'll never find her."

You heard the sound of a helicopter and frantically hid behind some stacked crates on the rooftop. Your breathing was shaky as you rummaged thru your bag, grabbing a black hoodie and quickly pulling it over your head so you couldn't be recognized immediately. Tears stained your cheeks as you thought about Dabi, down there all by himself. Sacrificing his freedom to protect you.

You managed to make it home, undetected. You walked into the little hideout that you and Dabi shared. It felt...empty...coming home without him. When you stepped thru the door, you noticed that one of you had left the tv on before heading out on your mission. The news was plastered on every channel.

Footage of Dabi being put in quirk-canceling cuffs and thrown into the back of a police car, hauled away to God knows where. The headline read "Infamous villain, Dabi, finally taken into police custody." You sat down on your couch, listening to what the female reporter had to say.

"Today there was yet another attack on a hero agency. This time pro Heroes GunHead and Kamui Woods falling victim to this week's attack." The camera panned to an ambulance with Kamui being lifted in on a gurney. You had a small smile at the sight of the hero, helpless and in pain. "There have been no deaths reported this time, but many injuries, including Kamui, Woods being badly injured in the attack." The camera panned back to the female reporter. "U.A. hero students, Deku and Dynamite, thankfully we're nearby on patrol when the attack occurred. The villain Dabi was captured by Erasure and is currently being taken down to the station for questioning." You sighed as the screen switched to someone's cellphone recording of Dabi being put in the police car again. "Whereabouts of his partner, v/n, are still unknown. Police are currently not releasing much more information than that. Stay tuned for more updates on the situation." The tv switched to a commercial. You put your elbows on your knees and buried your face in your palms. You gave a deep, pained sigh, letting a tear fall from your eyes, picturing Dabi right before his flames gave out. He fought so hard to give you a chance to get away. And in a way, you knew that was him reminding you how much he loved you.

You had a realization. Now that they had Touya...they wouldn't stop looking until they got you too. You wiped away your tears and walked into the bedroom you shared with Dabi. His clothes were still strewn all over the floor from that morning, bed still unmade. His phone charger still sprawled across the nightstand and his shirt that you slept in laying on the mess of sheets.

You walked past it all, not wanting to think about it. You dug thru your closet, finding a dark blue suitcase and a matching duffle bag. You began to pack it full of things. Clothes, toiletries, your tools and a few other items. You went into the back of your closet and removed the part of the wall that led to a hidden compartment. You grabbed the large stacks of cash and the fake ID's the two of you had prepared Incase you needed to run. You left his, and a couple stacks of cash there, just in case.

You threw all of the things in your bags and stared at his shirt that laid on the bed. It was his favorite shirt. For no other reason than the fact that you bought it for him. Even tho you ended up wearing it far more than he did, but he didn't mind. You grabbed the shirt and held it up to your nose. His scent was prominent on it.

No matter how many times you washed it, or how many times you wore it, the smell of him lingered on the fabric. You decided to take it with you, throwing it in your bag with everything else. You grabbed the burner phone you kept in your night stand and shoved it in your pocket. Then proceed with removing the SD card from your current phone and powering it off.

As you walked back out into the living room, you heard the news still going. The reporter was holding a microphone to the two young heroes. "WHEN I FIND THAT PSYCHO BITCH IM GONNA KILL HER!" Dynamite yelled into the mic, raging. Deku pulled him back by the arm. "Uh I- I think what Dynamite means is that we're gonna do our best to find v/n and keep this city safe" He beamed into the camera. You picked up the remote and turned off the tv before leaving out the back.

It was getting late and the sun was starting to set. You pulled your hood over your head and put on a face mask. You would have put on sunglasses too, but that would be suspicious at this time of day.

You walked to the nearest convenience store. Not very many people were inside, but just enough for you to be cautious. You quickly grabbed a few snacks and drinks, a bottle of ibuprofen and a box of hair dye. once up to the counter, you fake coughed a few times. Attempting to make them not question why you were wearing a face mask. You put all your stuff on the counter and picked a pack of gum from the lower shelf, as well as a blue lighter from the case next to you. "Can I get a pack of those too, please?" You pointed to a box of cigarettes behind the cashier. They turned, grabbing what you asked and scanning it. "Going on a trip?" The cashier gestured to the suitcase next to you, making small talk as they continued to scan the rest of your things. "Uh, yeah. Going home from visiting my parents." You lied. They just nodded their head and put all of your items in a bag.

"three thousand yen" they spoke, looking up at you. You pulled out your wallet and paid in cash. You headed out the door quickly with your bag, on your way to the nearest subway station.

You got there just in time for the last train to show up. You went up to the ticket counter, doing another fake cough like you did in the convenience store. "One ticket for Hiroshima please." You slid the money in the whole of the bullet proof glass, already knowing how much the ticket would cost. He handed you the ticket, not paying much attention to you. The train arrived shortly after and you got on with a small group of people.

You found yourself a seat in a back corner somewhere where there weren't very many people. Once your ass hit the seat, you let out an exhausted sigh, followed by a yawn. You check the time on your burner phone. It was 11:30 pm. You got comfortable and prepared for your 8 hour train ride out of the city.

This was a back up plan you and Dabi always had in case you ever needed an out. Neither of you ever thought you'd need to use it, but still kept it ready to go just in case. Although...you never thought you'd be sitting on this train without him.

You stared out of the window as the train began to move. Now that you had finally stopped moving, your adrenaline was wearing off and your entire body started to feel sore from being thrown across the room earlier in the day. You reached into your bag and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and Gatorade you just bought. You pulled down your mask and popped two pills in your mouth, taking a swig of the drink. You swallowed the pills and relaxed into your seat. Before long you ended up passing out from pure exhaustion and an adrenaline crash.

By the time you woke up, nearly all of the people that got on the train with you were gone, and it was an entirely new group of people. The sun was shining through the glass window, it was morning. You checked your phone. 7am.

"Next stop, Minami Ward, Hiroshima Prefecture." You heard a female voice call over the speaker. Your stomach was screaming at you, having not eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. You reached into your bag and grabbed the chips you'd bought at the convenience store.

After finally making it to your stop, you found a nearby motel, showing them your fake ID and paying for the room in cash. Once in your room you turned on the tv, searching for all the news channels. You were desperately trying to find anything about Dabi, but there was nothing. But you weren't completely surprised, why would any news channels cover something happening 7 prefectures away?

You were tempted to look it up yourself, but you didn't think it was safe yet to power up your cellphone. You dug thru your bag again, pulling out the box of hair dye you bought. You went into the motel bathroom and sighed. You opened the box, dumping its contents onto the counter. You didn't bother reading the instructions and just started mixing the products that you knew went together.

You stepped out of the shower, droplets of false color running down your skin. You stood in front of the sink and stared into the mirror at your new look. You felt your necklace vibrate, and out of habit you got excited. Did he manage to get away? Was he coming to find you? You pressed the button and vibrated it back. You waited a few seconds and hit it again. Still nothing. Your expression saddened, realizing that he was probably still in cuffs and with the police.

You'd hoped he'd have a plan and would come to find you soon, however long "soon" was.

~3 years later ~

It's been a long time since you've seen Dabi. After about 3 weeks, you bought a new phone and stopped using the burner. You went online and looked up the incident in Musutafu. The number of headlines and articles about Dabi being arrested were countless. You found out that they sentenced him to life in prison for all the people he's killed and destruction he's caused. There were YouTube videos of him in court and they made you cry. You knew you'd never be able to see him again and it shattered your heart. But there wasn't anything you could do about it.

After leaving the city, you spent a couple weeks at the motel. You considered getting back in the game after a while but it just didn't feel right without Dabi by your side. So you eventually settled on just living like a normal person. You got a job and an apartment with your new identity. All of your coworkers and neighbors have no idea who you truly are. They think you are some quirkless girl with a big family back home. The exact opposite of the truth. You hated this version of yourself but it was your best and only option. You'd gotten used to it after a while and after 3 years, it just became normal.

It was a Tuesday. It was like any other day. Wake up, go to work, come home, and do it all over again. It was late, around midnight when you'd finally started to be on your way home. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to just go to bed. As you were getting in your car, you felt your necklace vibrate. You always wore it because it, and his shirt were the only things that you had. You paused. This necklace hadn't vibrated in years. You put your hand on the necklace and you were about to hit the button to vibrate it back, but you didn't. You knew it wasn't him. There was no way it could have been him. The battery must have been acting up, or it's just shorting out because it's old. You made up excuses and waved it off like nothing. You ignored it and just headed on your way home.

You unlocked your apartment door and you walked in, it was freezing. Maybe you left a window open? Or forgot to turn the thermostat up before leaving? You flipped the light switch and set your bag down on the kitchen counter, throwing your keys next to it. You walked into the small hallway next to the kitchen and checked the thermostat. "63 degrees? Jesus" you mumbled outloud to yourself. As you were turning up the temperature, you heard something. It sounded like a groan coming from the other room. You froze. Was there someone in your apartment??

You turned around and activated your quirk that you haven't used in over a year. You peered into the living room, thru the wall. The lights were off. You saw that the window was open, and the silhouette of a person on your couch. You started to panic a little. You stepped back into the kitchen and grabbed one of your biggest knives.

You held the knife in front of you defensively and walked slowly back into the hallway. You turned the corner and quickly flipped the lights. You froze as the intruder on your couch raised his head to look at you. Your breath got caught in your throat and a tear fell from one of your eyes.

"Hey doll, miss me?" His words were strained and he clenched his abdomen in pain. You immediately dropped the knife, making a thud when it hit the carpeted floor. You ran over to the couch and landed on top of him, pulling him into the tightest hug imaginable. He groaned in pain, and you tried to pull away, realizing that you hurt him. But he wouldn't let you go. He tightened his hold on you and pulled you back into him, letting you know that he didn't care about the pain and just wanted to hold you.

You sobbed into his chest and he caressed your hair. You lifted your head to look at him. "How are you-" you began, but he answered before you finished. "You didn't think I'd let them keep me locked up forever, did you doll?" He smirked. You paused before asking him another question. "How did you find me?" You sniffled. He raised his hand to your face and wiped away your tears with the back of his knuckle. "Like I said, I will always find you." He pulled your face to his, forcing you to push up on your toes, and pressed a kiss to your lips. His hand tangled in the back of your hair and pulled you in to deepen the kiss. You relaxed your weight on him and he groaned again. You pulled away from the kiss and this time he let you. "You're hurt" you stood from the couch. He sat up straight, holding his abdomen again. "It's nothing serious, just got a little beat up on my way out" he laughed and then groaned in pain again. "Come here, let me help" you held out your hand and his gaze lifted to meet yours. He sighed and took your hand as he stood from the couch. He let you lead him to the bathroom. You tapped the counter top twice, signalling for him to take a seat while you dug thru the cabinet for your first aid kit.

Dabi sat up on the counter and proceeded to take off his shirt, letting out yet another groan when he lifted his arms. You looked over, and your face turned a light shade of pink. It had been so long since you'd seen him, and you were still just as attracted to him as you used to be. He leaned back against the mirror and closed his eyes, relaxing his previously tense muscles. You took out all the supplies you needed and set them on the counter next to where he was. Your eyes roamed his torso, noticing all of the dark purple bruises that littered the healthy portions of his skin. The small drips of blood that leaked from where it was sewn together. You grabbed a soft wash cloth and soaked it in warm water. You leaned over him and gently cleaned the blood. He opened his eyes and they roamed your features, studying you. "You look different." His voice was calm. Your eyes darted up to his for just a second before returning to his torso. "Yeah, so do you" you gestured to his now white hair from the lack of dyeing it while in prison.

a small smile crept up on his lips. "You still look just as beautiful as the last time I saw you, y/n." Your words got caught in your throat and your face turned red. All you could do was give him a smile while you put the bloody rag in the sink. You proceeded to put some pain revealing cream on all of his bruises, making him flinch in pain every time you put a little bit of pressure.

"There, that should help." You wiped off your hands with a clean rag and stood up straight. Without hesitation, he pulled you into another hug. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed tight, burying his head in your neck. "I missed you so much baby" his words sounded pained. You'd never heard him talk like that before. Like he was afraid to let you go. You leaned into the hug and kissed the skin on his shoulder where your head was buried. "I missed you too, Touya." He let out a deep sigh, hearing you call him that. You were the only person he allowed to use that name, or even knew about it, and he hadn't heard it since the last time he saw you. "Don't ever leave me like that again, okay?" A tear began to roll down your cheek. "I promise, I won't." He squeezed you a little tighter.

The two of you stayed that way for a little while before you finally pulled away. "You're probably starving, let me order some food." You wiped away the tears that stained your skin and walked out of the bathroom. Dabi hopped off the counter and followed close behind you. You made your way into the kitchen where you'd set your bag and began to rummage thru it, looking for your phone. "I know how much you like wings, and there's this chicken place around the corner that is just SO good." He watched as you opened your phone and started ordering food, smiling at your excitement.

"Oh my God, those were so good!" Dabi boasted about the food. "I know right? Some of the best wings I've ever had" you picked up both your plates and took them over to the sink, beginning to wash them. You heard him stand from his seat and begin to walk towards you. "I missed eating real food" he joked. You let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I don't imagine prison food tasted all that good." You felt his arm wrap around your waist and his chest press against your back. "You know what I missed even more tho?" His voice got quiet, almost a whisper. He pushed your hair aside and laid a soft kiss at the nape of your neck. Your face immediately flushed as you shut off the water. "W-what?" Your voice was a bit shaky. He immediately bit into the soft skin of your neck, forcing a whimper from your lips. "Those pretty sounds you used to make for me." He smirked against your skin and kissed the bite mark he left. You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes as you felt his hands trail up the sides of your body. He grabbed at your hips and tugged you backwards into him, pulling your ass against the growing bulge in his pants. He kissed your neck again. "Every night, I pictured that adorable look on your face when I used to fuck you dumb." His voice was a low growl, digging his fingers into the Doughy skin at your hips. "Tell me, doll..." His hands slipped inside your shirt and his hips pushed you against the counter forcefully. "...how often did you think about me?" He found your breasts and palmed them thru your bra. "e-every day" you let out a small moan and leaned your head back against his shoulder. "Every s-single day Touya." Your face was bright red and you felt the slick gathering in your panties. You clenched your thighs together when you felt one of his hands push past the waist band of your pants and dip into your folds. You hadn't been touched in so long and his warm fingers felt like heaven. He rubbed slow circles around your clit and you pushed your ass against his crotch. Letting out small quiet whines as he worked your sensitive bud. Your hand curled around his arm and held on for support, gripping at his muscles. He loved the way your body responded to his touch, always so sensitive for him, and only him. He continued kissing your neck, marking his territory. "Can't wait to feel that tight little pussy of yours fuck-" he whispered in your ear, breathing out a small moan at the end just from the thought. "All mine" he growled, shoving two fingers inside of you and making you moan loud. He loved watching you whine and squirm under his touch. It was his favorite thing.

He continued shoving his fingers in and out of you, your first orgasm approaching quickly. Your body was slightly quivering and he wrapped an arm right under your breasts, keeping you up straight. He shoved his hand inside your bra and started twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb. He felt your walls clench around his digits and he knew you were close. He curved his fingers and that was enough to send you over the edge. "ngh- fuck!" You yelled, breathing heavy and continuing to moan as you rode out that orgasm, creaming all over his fingers. His pace slowed and then he pulled out of you. He dragged his hand out of you pants and shoved those two fingers in your mouth, making you suck on them. And you did so gladly. He smirked and whispered in your ear once more. "Always so good for me, even after all this time." He kissed the base of your ear and then gently tugged on your lobe with his teeth.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and turned you around to face him. He could tell your legs were a little weak, so his hands cupped the back of your thighs and he lifted you to straddle his waist. "let's finish this in bed" you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned against him as he carried you to your bedroom, peppering soft kisses on his neck the whole way there. You landed on the bed with him on top of you. He pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, shoving his wet tongue down your throat. Your hands snaked into his white hair, pulling him closer to you. The kiss was hungry, like you'd both been starving for each other the past 3 years. And you were. His hands slid inside your shirt again, fingers grazing over your familiar soft skin. He pulled your shirt over your head, and unclipped your bra, pulling it off as fast as he could so he could return his lips to yours. Once your breasts spilled free, both of his hands cupped them and squeezed while your tongue continued to dance with his.

He grinded against you, dragging his clothed erection across the growing wet spot on your pants. He moaned into the kiss, desperately looking for friction. He pulled away from you again, practically ripping your pants off. He threw them across the room and then eagerly removed his own.

When he pulled down his boxers, you watched as his dick bobbed under its own weight. The same piercings lining his shaft, just like you remembered. You bit your bottom lip, remembering what the metal bars felt like dragging against your walls. His lips crashed on yours yet again, like he couldn't get enough of you. You felt his tip slide against your wet folds, coating himself in the sticky liquid before you felt him breach your entrance. The sound he made while going in was heavenly. he gave a throaty moan, feeling you so tight around him. And you were indeed tight, not having felt him in so long. You whimpered as you felt his large member stretch you open to accommodate his size. Only half way in and you were already seeing stars. He pushed in more, bottoming out as you both cried out in pleasure. He didn't move for a minute, savoring the feeling of being buried so deep inside you. You flexed around him a few times, walls fluttering. He was trying desperately not to cum on the spot.

"Fuck I missed you so much ngh-" his words trailed off as his lips connected to your neck. He began to pull out of you, struggling bc of how tight you gripped him. He moved slow at first but it didn't take him very long to grow impatient. He stood on his knees and grabbed your legs, pushing them as far up as they would go, folding you in half. You cried out very loud as he began an ungodly pace. "Nghuh fuck- oh fuck-" he whimpered, wrapping a hand around your throat. He squeezed tight and your breath caught in your lungs. Your mouth opened wide, letting out strained moans of pleasure. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he leaned over you, spitting in your mouth. You swallowed it and then stuck your tongue out for another, which he graciously gave you. Normally, he didn't rush. He'd edge you and make you beg him to fuck you. But right now? He felt like 3 years was a long enough wait and both of you deserved to feel good.

He was approaching an orgasm quickly, and the way he was abusing your g-spot, you were not far behind. "Ugh fuck- Touya, please I'm g-gonna- NGH-UH!" You screamed, cutting yourself off with the massive orgasm that plagued your body. The way you cried out for him sent him over the edge and he filled you to the brim with his white, sticky cum. You both panted heavily as his pace slowed just a bit. He removed his hand from your throat, leaving a bit of a bruise behind. He leaned down to kiss you again, not as aggressive this time. "I'm not done with you just yet, doll" he pulled out of you and flipped you over on your stomach. He watched the cum leak out of you and groaned at the sight, making his dick twitch and stay hard. Feeling a bit more satisfied from one orgasm, he decided to tease you a bit. He rubbed his tip over your clit, ghosting over your entrance. You moaned and pushed backwards, trying desperately to get him back inside you. He smacked your ass hard, making you yelp and turning the skin red. He squeezed it with both hands, kneading it like dough before smacking it again. Tears started to well in your eyes and you pushed back on him again. "I w-want more" you whined. He continued to rub against your clit. "What's the magic word?" He teased. "P-please" you said quietly. You felt him grab a chunk of your hair and yank you backwards. "say it like you mean it doll," the tears fell down your cheeks as you cried out for him. "PLEASE! Please ngh-" before you even got to finish your words, he was buried all the way in you once again. "Good girl" he praised, pounding into you. The sound of slapping sweating skin filled the room along with your cries of pleasure and his loud moaning. He held on tight to your hair and smacked your ass again and again. The sensation he was creating was overwhelming and another orgasm was coming fast. The squelching sound of your already cum filled pussy being pummeled was getting louder.

He leaned over you, pushing your face into the mattress, his chest flush with your back. He reached around and started rubbing rough circles on your clit. Your walls tighten around him and you screamed out again. "That's right baby, cum all over my dick fuck-" He sped up, making your orgasm last longer then it should have. He whined as you milked him and he reached his second orgasm. He repeated a sting of curses as he filled you up once more. Watching it pour out past him at the sheer amount that he released. You continued to cry and whine, still coming down from the last little bit of your climax. He pulled out of you slowly, he felt so sensitive. You were absolutely weak beneath him, just the way he liked it. That same adorable fucked-out expression he remembered plastered all over your face. He ran his hand over your ass, giving the red skin a gentle squeeze. "Let's get you cleaned up." He left the room and came back with a warm wash cloth. He continued to watch as your pussy pushed out all of his cum and watched it drip onto the sheets. He wiped it away and got you all nice and clean.

You were too fucked out to be coherent on your own, so he turned you back over to lay on your back, getting you under the blanket. He made sure the door was locked and the lights were off before coming back to the room.

By the time he came back, you'd gained a little bit of sense and could form words. He climbed into bed next to you and you snuggled up to him. He wrapped his arm around you and let you lay on his chest.

You could hear his steady heartbeat and it was the most comforting sound you'd ever heard. "Hey, Touya?" Your voice was quiet. "Yes doll?" He turned his focus to you. You lifted your head from his chest, looking up at him. "Are you planning on getting back in the game?" You asked, referring to the devious things the two of you used to do together. He let out a sigh, thinking about his answer. "I think we should lay low for a while... But-" he paused, finding his next words. "I don't ever wanna put you in that kind of danger again. Or have to leave you again..." He sighed again, trying to figure out how to explain himself. He shifted a little bit, facing more towards you. "I don't wanna give up on our goal." He tucked some hair behind your ear. "But I wanna keep you safe. You are the most important thing to me, y/n" he gave you a weak smile. He didn't used to talk like this. Being in prison and away from you for so long must have really done something to him. You nodded your head and laid back on his chest, hearing his heart beat again. "I'll go wherever you go, so we'll figure it out together. But no matter what I'll still be by your side, okay?" You closed your eyes, getting comfortable. "Okay." He smiled, rubbing comforting circles on your shoulder. what did he do to deserve someone who was so loyal to him and willing to follow him anywhere. He didn't know, but he was happy he found you nonetheless.

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ladyrivia · 3 years

Text

Spitfire (Chapter One)

Summary: Anya Donato, a seasoned agent in the DEA transfers from New York to Columbia to take down Escobar. Upon arrival, two particular men catch her eye, Javier Pena and Colonel Carrillo.

No warnings! Except maybe google translate spanish.. Enjoy!

The fierce Columbian sun shined through the windows of the airport, giving Anya a bright welcome as she trudged down the stairs to customs. She dragged her suitcase behind her, duffel thrown over her shoulder carrying the remaining items of her previous life that was not already shipped down to the Embassy.

“Pasaporte, por favor.” passport, please. Digging through the inner pocket of her jacket, she pulled out her passport and required forms, handing them over to the man who was clearly tired of his job. “Gracias señora..Donato.” Thank you Mrs..Donato. He looked over the forms, stamping them and entering something into the system. “Bienvenida a Columbia.” Welcome to Columbia. He gave a tight lipped smile as he gave back her documents.

“Gracias.” Thank you. Anya replied, shoving the forms back into the pocket and continuing what seemed to be the never ending process of transferring to her new station in Columbia.

Anya walked to the ARRIVALS sign, where she was told that an agent would be picking her up. A handsome man walked towards her, his dark brown eyes scanning over your body. Perv. Anya thought, straightening her back and preparing to turn down whatever offer this man had.

“Excuse me señora, did you happen to see an agent on your flight?” Oh. Of course. He wasn’t expecting a woman to be joining. Her eyes narrowed, giving him a glare.

“I am the agent,” Anya dug through your pocket once more, showing him the shiny DEA badge before putting it back. “Señor.” His eyes widened, realizing his mistake, opening his mouth to form an apology, but she quickly cut him off. “Not another word. Can we just go now, I’m tired and ready to get the hell out of this airport.” He nodded, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and walking towards the exit. Normally, she’d argue and snatch her bag back, but she was too tired to care.

He led Anya to his black 4 door SUV, with scuffs and minor dents in it, showing its age. Throwing her bag in the back, she settled in the passenger seat. The car smelt heavily of cigarettes, which wasn’t too different from the car she sold right before heading to Columbia. If you were in the DEA, you either had a drinking problem or a smoking problem, if not both.

“I’m Javier, Javier Pena.” He was still trying to recover from his mistake earlier.

“Anya Donato. Pleasure to meet you.” Her eyes were focused on the city as they drove off, trying to get a sense of the area that she would now be living in. “Got a cigarette?” She looked towards him.

“Yeah,” He took out the pack from his front pocket, opening the carton for her to take one. “Here, lighter is in the console.” He grabbed one for himself and waited for Anya to finish lighting yours before handing the lighter to him. She took a long pull from the cigarette, letting the smoke settle in her lungs for a few seconds before breathing it out, rolling down the window half way to allow fresh air to replace the smoke.

They smoked in silence, letting the nicotine settle her nerves.

“So.. where’d you transfer from?” Javier had never felt more awkward in his life. He normally always knew what to say, but with you he was at a loss.

“New York. Got tired of the snow and the cold.” She felt a smirk form on her face when she looked at him and said, “And I think you boys needed some help down here.” He looked at you, lips twitching into a grin

“Saying we’re incompetent?”

“Perhaps.” The banter eased the awkward vibe in the car, the two continuing to smoke while Javier pointed out places, whether it be a bad neighborhood, a good dive bar, or what she was most interested in, the best food choices.

“And here we are, home sweet home..” The car pulled into the Embassy, the security guards at the gate recognizing Javier’s car and immediately let him through. “I think the ambassador already left for today, I think they said something about a meeting.” He shrugged, clearly having not paid attention. “Let’s get you checked in here then we can get you set up at your new place.” He chucked the cigarette on the ground when he got out of the car, leading to the entrance of the large building. She opted to throw your cigarette butt into the trash can, grumbling something about littering.

“Pena!” A southern drawl called out. “You were supposed to pick up the new agent, not hire a new prostit-” Javi silenced him with a look.

“Agent Anya Donato,” She stuck out her hand.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’m Steve Murphy.” He shook her hand.

“No harm done, you aren’t the first to assume.” Anya gave a pointed glare at Javier.

“Well, uh, welcome to the team.” Steve gestured to three desks pushed together in the bullpen. “That empty one is yours.” The group meandered to the desks, Anya plopping down in the uncomfortable office chair.

“Tomorrow we’ll have Carrillo get you your gun and fitted for Kevlar. For now you should get acquainted with our favorite narco.” Javier lifted a large box labeled ESCOBAR, putting it on the desk in front of her. Anya sighed, sitting up in her chair and taking the top off the box, finding it filled to the brim with papers.

“Where’s the coffee?” Her northern accent came out with the last words.

“The caw-fee is over there.” Javier mocked her accent, snickering when she flipped him off before retrieving a cup of shitty office coffee.

Hours passed, Javier was clicking away on the typewriter, Steve meandering around the office, retrieving information from the different intel groups that were scattered around the building. Anya’s eyes were starting to strain, the words becoming blurry on the paper. She snatched Javier’s cigarette box from where he placed it on the far corner of the desk, he got tired of taking it out every time she wanted to steal a cigarette.

“Don’t you have your own?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her.

“We’ve been over this Pena, I would’ve brought my own but Uncle Sam would’ve gotten pissy about it and I haven’t exactly had time to go get my own, nor do I have a car to do so.” Anya took a puff, then quickly took a swig of coffee. Not even 24 hours in and she was already returning to her bad habits.

“How many cups have you had?”

“..4..” She mumbled around the cigarette before looking up at Javier, eyebrow raised again. “Maybe 7.”

“Shit, Donato, how long have you been awake?”

“Long enough.”

“You’ve been pouring over those papers for hours, why don’t we head out of here and go grab a drink with some of the guys?”

“You sure they’ll want me interrupting boy-time?” It was Anya’s turn to raise an eyebrow, she normally isn’t one to turn down drinks, but given the reaction she got upon first meeting her new partners, she wasn’t exactly excited to have to repeat that experience so soon.

“Of course, you’ve already interrupted it here,” Javi gestured around. “C’mon, I’m sure the trip down here wasn’t exactly easy. A few drinks could do you good.” He was pretty much begging her to come along at this point, he wanted to spend more time with her, get to know his new partner before they had to go guns-blazing into some drug lord's hideout.

“I guess so.” Anya put the lid back onto the box, downing the rest of her coffee and throwing it into the trash can near their desks. Javier quickly finished what he was typing before slinging his jacket on.

“You ready Donato?” She nodded and followed him back to his car.

The drive to the bar was short, the time filled with her asking clarifying questions about Escobar. Arriving at the bar, there were already other police vehicles parked. When she turned to ask him, he said, “We go here pretty much every night, it’s a good way to wind down.”

“Ah.” Anya and the New York DEA department had a place similar, except it was a 24 hour dinner/bar combo. She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the past. She can’t afford to get emotional, especially when she’s the only woman on a team full of men. The second she shows emotion it’s over. Everything she’s ever worked for, benched and it being chalked up to being ‘too emotional’.

They exited the car, Javier leading her to the usual spot that him and Carrillo liked to sit. It was a corner booth, allowing them to monitor everyone coming in and coming out.

“Why isn’t Steve here?” Anya furrowed her eyebrows at the realization that Steve wasn’t with the group, but she saw him leave shortly before they did.

“He has a wife, Connie. She’s a sweetheart, I think you two would get along.”

“You barely know me.”

“We’ll that’s why we’re here, aren’t we?” Javier gave her a smile, and she couldn’t help but give him a slight grin in return. Approaching the corner booth, Anya noticed a man already sitting at the table, but he stood up upon seeing the two walking towards him. His stare was intense, she could tell he was trying to get a read on her. He was undeniably handsome, but in a different way than Javier. Javier was charming, definitely an expert in flirting and wooing a woman. The stranger was just… hot. His uniform fit tightly around his biceps, a 5 o’clock shadow sculpting his face, a watch decorating his arms that she wished were—

Get a grip, Anya. She cursed herself out in her own head as she ogled at the man.

“Carrillo, cómo estás?” Carrillo, how are you? Javier greeted the man.

“Quien es tu amiga?” Who’s your friend? Carrillo ignored his question, nodding to Anya.

“¿Recuerdas que mencioné que íbamos a conseguir un nuevo socio?” Remember me mentioning we were getting a new partner?

“Soy Anya, Anya Donato.” I’m Anya. She could tell that the man was surprised that the new partner was a woman, him continuing to analyze her every move.

“Colonel Carrillo.” His hand dwarfed Anya’s when they went to shake hands, they were warm, she could feel the calluses formed by years of hard work. Javier gestured for them to sit, him sliding in next to her and Carrillo sitting opposite of them. There was already a bowl of peanuts at the table, broken and discarded shells in a bowl next to it. Carrillo had obviously been munching on some before they arrived.

The waitress came by, dropping off menus and taking drink orders. The men had ordered whiskey.

“Aqua y…” Anya thought for a moment, deciding what drink she was in the mood for. Glancing over the menu, she decided to go with a classic Columbian cocktail. “Refajo por favor.” Water and a Refajo please. Carrillo and Javier gave her a quizzical look. “What? When in Rome..” She grabbed a peanut and cracked it while looking over the menu. Anya leaned over to Javier. “What’s good here?”

Carrillo was captivated by the woman. He certainly wasn’t expecting her when Javier said him and Steve were getting a new partner. While she was shorter than the two of them, she carried herself with the same confidence, even while having to look up to meet his eyes. He watched as she glanced over the menu with her big brown eyes while ordering her drink, the slight shade of pink that crossed her cheeks when they questioned her drink choice. Carrillo slightly tensed when she leaned over to Javier, a sense of jealousy sparking. Reúnanse, Horacio. Get yourself together, Horacio. He cussed himself out in his head.

“If you’re looking to try something local, you could try the Bandeja Paisa. It’s our National dish.” Carrillo grabbed another peanut as he spoke, cracking the shell with ease. He watched her fidget with the peanut in her hand while she looked for the dish on the menu.

“Yeah, I’ll try that. Thank you Carrillo.” Anya gave him a warm smile as she pulled back from Javier, placing the menu on the edge of the table so it was easier for the waitress to grab when she came back. The waitress quickly returned with their drinks and took their orders, Carrillo got a steak and Javier got a burger.

Anya finally attempted to crack the peanut, finding herself unable to. Carrillo noticed and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the peanut then back at her. She tried playing it off as if she was just fidgeting with it.

“Son of a bitch.” Anya muttered under her breath after a couple more tries. She could throw vicious punches, down a man twice her size in hand to hand combat, but she couldn’t crack a damn peanut.

Javier watched her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk appearing on his face when he noticed her struggling with the peanut. It was cute watching her try to play it off when Carrillo noticed, but he could see the pink return shortly there after. Javier had snuck off earlier to read her file, the ambassador had given it to him and Murphy days prior, but they didn’t bother reading it, assuming it’d be another guy like them. He read about her work in New York, how she helped take down some Cali Cartel members. Anya would go in undercover, taking down sicarios in club’s bathroom in a dress and heels when she would lead them back there for what they assumed to be sex.

After watching her suffer with the damn peanut for a few more moments, he reached down to grab it, easily cracking it and handing it to her.

“Thanks.” Anya muttered, the blush returning to her cheeks, redder than before. She munched on the peanuts while she grabbed another, yet again failing to crack it on her own. Javier chuckled and helped her crack it again. This repeated until they had a cycle of Anya handing him a peanut and him cracking it for her, dropping the peanuts into her hand and putting the shells in the bowl.

The spark of jealousy returned in Carrillo when he watched Anya finally relinquish the peanut to Javier. Es un puto maní. Para. It’s a fucking peanut. Stop. Carrillo returned to insulting himself in his own head, but he couldn’t help s small twitch of a smirk when Anya’s blush returned to her face.

“So tell me about the Rumpus Room.” Javier asked Anya while he cracked yet another peanut for her.

“That shitty place? Finally decide to read my file, asshole?” Anya snorted and took another sip of her drink.

“Call me an asshole all you want but I’m the one cracking your peanuts, gringa.” Javier waved the peanut in front of her.

“Gringa? Come up with something original, lindo.” Pretty boy. She swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Wonder where you learned that one,” He gave her the unshelled peanuts. “You gonna tell us or what?” He took a sip of his whiskey.

“Nothin’ much to say,” Anya said between crunches. “Awful place, smelled like cat piss.” She scrunched her nose. “Wasn’t anyone high profile, just a trafficker of theirs. Put on a tight red dress, strutted into the club and I had him in an instant. Practically drooled over me.” She shook her head. “We danced a bit and I whispered some..” Anya was worried of the reaction she would get, her plan worked well, but some think she’s promiscuous and a whore for how she took down these men. “Something dirty in his ear and led him to the back. Disarmed him quickly and just beat the shit out of him. Nothing special.” She practically chugged her drink, trying to ignore whatever reaction the two men had.

Well, there certainly was a reaction in their pants.

“In a dress and heels,” Javier whistled. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Best not.” Anya let out a sigh of relief, neither of these men seemed to care about her unorthodox methods.

“You went in there without a weapon?” Carrillo’s fists were clenched, how could her superiors put her in such a dangerous position?

“Can’t hide much in a skin tight dress,” She shrugged, finishing off her drink. “Though I did hide a knife in my bra. My boss didn’t know about that.” A smirk came to her face. Carrillo did not find any of this funny. No backup or weapons, what if they had caught onto her? Over his dead body would he send—

Para, para, para. Stop, stop, stop. Carrillo pleaded with his mind once more as the waitress returned with refills and their meals.

The rest of dinner was filled with exchanges of stories, both men finding themselves enamored with the lively stories Anya told, the alcohol and time spent together making her feel more and more comfortable with the two. She was hungrier than expected, digging into her Bandeja Paisa.

“My god Carrillo!” Anya praised Carrillo for his recommendation, which was something he definitely wanted to hear again.

It was about midnight when Javier noticed Anya starting to slump, the lack of sleep starting to catch up with her.

“I’m okay seriously, I feel fine.” She felt the alcohol hitting her.

“You’re clearly tired, c’mon carñira, it’s time to get you home.” He groaned when he realized her apartment was empty, that was something they were meant to do before she arrived.

“Qué es?” What is it? Carrillo noticed the look on Javi’s face.

“Her apartment is empty. We were meant to get the essentials moved in before she arrived but with everything—”

“Bendejo.” Idiot. Carrillo muttered. “Ella puede quedarse en mi casa esta noche, tengo una habitación de invitados preparada.” She can stay at my house tonight, I have a guest room set up. Javier eyed him, jealousy blooming in his mind. “Que? Quieres que duerma en la misma cama donde te follaste a las prostitutas?” What? You want her sleeping in the same bed you fucked prostitutes? Javier knew he was right, he wasn’t prepared for someone to stay over.

“My Spanish is good but I think I’m a bit drunk, fill me in?” Anya seemed to sober up a tad after nursing her glass of water.

“I may have forgotten to set up the furniture in your apartment..”

“You can stay at my house tonight, I have a guest room.”

“Oh. Yeah that.. that works, just need to grab my bags from his car.”

“Consider it done.”

“There you go. Take care of her.” Javier gave a slight glare at Carrillo, warning him if anything happened to her. Stop it Javi. You just met her today. She isn’t yours. “Goodnight, carñira. See you tomorrow.” He shut the back door of Carrillo’s car, where he had brought her bags over.

The drive to Carrillo’s house was quiet, Anya looking out the window and gazing at the city’s lights.

Upon arrival, he insisted on opening her door for her, wrapping his hand around her waist to make sure she didn’t trip up the stairs to his house. He knew she wouldn’t trip, she knew she wouldn’t trip, but neither said a word and played along with the excuse.

“Make yourself at home, here’s the guest bedroom,” He opened a door on the left. “Sorry about the boxes in there, work seems to follow me home.”

“Oh no worries, I’m the same.” The evidence boxes were neatly stacked in the corner, all of them combined was definitely taller than her.

“Bathroom is through that door,” Carrillo pointed to the door on the opposite wall. “And that door is my room, so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask.” She nodded. There was an awkward pause between them, before Anya spoke.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Not a problem, I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here rather than a hotel in the city.” Or Javi’s apartment. Both of them knew the unspoken words. She did pick up a few words from their earlier conversation, something about in the same bed as fucking prostitutes let her everything she needed to know about Javi’s habits. “Goodnight, Anya.”

“Good night, Carrillo.”

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 8*

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

OHEMGEEEEE!!! A new chapter!

I appreciate the patience this week/last week guys, It's certainly been-- challenging. And it's not over yet, but I did want to get you a chapter since you all have been so understanding and lovely.

That being said I really am here just to break your heart with some good ol' angsty angst. MWAHAHAHHAAHA.

Enjoy.

I may try and put out another chapter tonight, but we will only be getting to 10 with this one I'm 90% sure so I want them to be good chapters.

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==========

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down,” An officer told him.

“No!” William screamed. “That man kidnapped my wife--”

“She’s NOT your wife!” Rafael cut him off. “You can verify that, she’s his ex-wife,”

“How ‘bout I verify my foot up your ass, dickhead?!” Lewis screamed.

“Lovely, Lewis,” Rafael rolled his eyes with a sarcastic laugh.

“You son of a--” Lewis lunged for Rafael but an officer held him back.

“BOTH OF YOU, GET OUT,” The nurse escorted the two men to the waiting room. “Family only!”

“But she’s my--”

“EX” Rafael finished. “And I’m her--”

“BOYFRIEND,” Lewis snarled. “Not HUSBAND,”

“I’m more concerned about the you're blood covered in, Mr.--” A female officer interjected.

“Barba,” Rafael finished.

“It’s my wi--” Lewis started, but saw Rafael’s eyes glaring at him. “Y/N’s blood, my ex wife,”

“And exactly why are you covered in her blood Mr. Barba?” The officer continued to question him.

“Because I--” He began to explain how he had rescued you from that monster.

“BECAUSE HE RAPED HER!!” Lewis screamed again.

“Alright, Mr.--”

“Loomis,” William stuck out his hand. “Billy Loomis,”

“That is BULLSHIT,” Rafael snapped. “His name is William Lewis, look him up,”

“Alright, you come with me, you go with Cooper,” The woman officer instructed her partner to take Lewis the opposite direction.

“Fine with me,” Rafael grumbled as the other cop dragged Lewis away.

“Alright so why don’t you start from the beginning, Mr. Barba,” She pulled out an iPad from her back holster.

“....How far do you mean, officer?” Rafael asked as they sat down in two waiting room chairs.

“Why don’t you call me Sherrie,” She softened her tone with a small smile. Ah, so she was going to play good cop with him.

“How far do you think will help me understand this?” She continued.

“Well,” Rafael rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated,”

“....How so?” Sherrie raised an eyebrow. She had that look on her face; the same one Olivia got when she didn’t believe a word a perp was saying. Great.

“Well first of all, that man is not who he says he is,” He pointed towards where Lewis had been taken. “His name is William Lewis, and he is a wanted rapist and murderer in several states, including New York,”

“Ah, New York,” Sherrie nodded. “Is that where you're from?”

“Uh, yes, New York City in fact,” Rafael clarified. Why did she say it like that? She used a tone that he should be using. That disdain, that condescending tone. That just pissed Rafael off even more.

“I see,” Sherrie nodded as she jotted down things on her iPad.

“Look just because I’m from New York and you people--”

“Us people?” Sherrie gave him a glare.

“...You all,” Rafael changed his tune. “Think ‘down’ of us New Yorkers--”

“Oh I believe it’s the other way around, Mr. Barba,” Sherrie scowled. Well, she did have a point.

“....Lewis lives there too,”

“Really?” Sherie raised an eyebrow. “Because I just searched his name in our database and Mr. LOOMIS is a non-offender, born and bred New Jersian.

“That is a load of shit!” Rafael stood up. “I am telling you, he is a psychopath. He has several identities across the god damn country, and he’s--”

“Not on trial here, Mr. Barba,” Sherrie finished.

“And I am?” Rafael scoffed.

“We’ll see,” She gave him a look.

“Por el amor de Dios....” Rafael muttered, along with a few other obscenities in spanish. “Look just call the NYPD. Talk to Sergeant Benson of the SVU Unit” Rafael instructed her.

“SVU hmm?” Sherrie raised an eyebrow as she typed.

“Yes!” Rafael cried. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I am the Assistant District Attorney of New York City! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Especially not Y/N. I love her,”

“Right,” Sherrie nodded. “Alright well I’ll call her after we’re done here, okay?”

“Sure you will,” Rafael muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Do you really wanna start an attitude with me, Mr. Barba?”

“Rafael,” He exhaled. “My name is Rafael,” The more she used ‘Mr. Barba’ the more he felt he actually was on trial. “And I’m sorry, I just-- I’m scared,”

“For you or for her?” Sherrie questioned.

“For her!” Rafael got excited again. “Lewis raped her and tore her rectum, then went and took a shower after haphazardly bandaging her, like it was no big fucking deal!”

“And you know this, how?” She asked in a suspicious manner.

“Because she called me,” He continued. “She called me earlier and told me he had her hostage,”

“He was holding her hostage?” Sherrie continued to use a suspicious tone.

“Yes! And I can prove it!” Rafael suddenly remembered the picture Lewis had so cockily sent him.

The one of him holding a gun pressed to your back. The image would haunt him forever. He went to get his phone, but it wasn’t in his pocket. Shit, it must still be in the car. He had hastily dropped it as soon as he told you he was coming in to get you.

“Shit,” He muttered.

“Is there a problem?” Sherrie asked.

“I have a photo on my phone, but I must have left it in my car,”

“Conveniently,” She nodded.

“NO!” Rafael stomped his foot. “Look if you’ll just let me go get it--”

“Right,” Sherrie scoffed sarcastically with a laugh. “Let me just let you ‘run out to your car’,”

“You can follow me, escort me, whatever,” He huffed. “I have nothing to hide,”

“Alright then,” Sherrie followed Rafael outside the hospital doors, but his car wasn’t there.

“Shit,” He muttered. “They must have towed it because I just parked in the ambulance bay and got Y/N help,”

“Oh, mmhmm, I’m sure that must be what happened,” She rolled her eyes.

“This is insane,” Rafael half laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He felt like he was in an episode of the Twilight Zone. He was being treated like a convict while Lewis was the golden boy of Jersey. This was a nightmare.

“Can we just--” Rafael ran his hands through his hair, trying to think of something, anything that would clear his name.

“Can you just call the NYPD, please?” He begged Sherrie. “I swear to you, Olivia Benson will clear my name and tell you all about William Lewis,”

Sherrie looked at him for a long moment, debating whether to cut him some slack. On the one hand, he was covered in your blood, and had brought you in. Also, he was from New York City, so God knows how slick he was. On the other hand, he did look genuinely scared and pitiful, and if he had the balls to ask her to actually call the NYPD, maybe he was telling the truth.

“Alright Rafael, I’ll humor you,” She finally nodded, typing NYPD into Google. She got the number and began dialing it, waiting for someone to answer.

“Hi, yes this is Officer Reagan of the Jersey PD-- Is there an Olivia Benson there?” Sherrie asked as she gave Rafael a side eye. There was silence for a moment, then she began to speak.

“Hi yes, Sergeant Benson. This is-- Right. Do you know Rafael Barba?”

“Mmmhmm, well he’s here at Jersey County Hospital having brought in a woman who had clearly been assaulted, and he--” Sherrie stopped as Olivia began speaking very fast and loudly.

“Look ma’am there’s no reason to-- Yes her husband-- alright her ex husband, Billy Loomis-- Alright allegedly this ‘William Lewis’. Whoa there ma’am-- Sergeant, there’s no need to get hysterical,” Rafael chuckled to himself as he watched Sherrie get chewed out by Olivia.

“...Well yes he is here, but I really don’t feel comfortable having you take him into custody, Sergeant. This isn’t your jurisdiction, so I’m sorry but you have no claim on Billy, or William, or whoever,” Sherrie was getting fed up with Olivia’s attitude.

“Uh yes, that is so, sergeant. If you’d like to take it up with my sergeant, feel free to come down here and-- well fine! Good, we’ll be here. No I will not be letting Mr. Barba go, he’s still a-- you know what, I’m sick of this. You wanna come down here and raise a fit for your man here, go right ahead,” Sherrie hung up the phone and looked at a now smirking Rafael.

“I told you,” He smirked.

“Yeah well you’re not going anywhere until this ‘Olivia Benson’ gets here. Which I assume will be pretty soon,”

“Your assumption is spot on,” Rafael chuckled to himself. If there was one thing he could count on, Olivia would come running to his defense at the drop of a hat.

-----------------

Meanwhile

“Look I’m telling you, that man abducted my ex wife in the middle of the night and raped her,” Lewis was scrambling.

“And how do you know this, Mr. Loomis?” Officer Cooper asked.

“Because I was there,” He explained.

“And why were you at your ex-wife’s house?” Cooper asked skeptically.

“We--” William was thinking on the fly.

He was still fuming from the balls on Barba trying to rescue you, and agitated that he got the male cop who wasn’t so easily manipulated as a woman would’ve been.

“We were reconciling,” He lied.

“Reconciling?” The officer raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I told her earlier today that I had made a mistake leaving her and my family, and that I wanted to come back home,” He explained. “And then I offered to pick up our girls from school and meet her at home, while she broke it off with that bastard,”

“Broke it off?” The officer questioned him. “So they are in a relationship?”

“...Yeah,” He muttered.

“So how exactly did her boyfriend kidnap her, if she went to him willingly?”

“....He got pissed when she tried to break it off,” Lewis was spinning a thread of lies now. “He called me and told me that if he couldn’t have her, nobody could,”

“I see,” Cooper nodded, typing on his iPad

“So when she came home to me and the girls, he followed her. We didn’t know until he broke in and kidnapped Y/N,” Lewis now focused on keeping his ‘concerned husband’ act. He was pretty sure he had a good story going.

“Mmm hmm,” The officer nodded as he continued typing. He wasn’t even acknowledging him; that was making Lewis’s blood boil. He liked being in control; he hated being ignored.

“Look can I check on my wife, please?” He tried going for the sympathy card again, knowing he wasn’t getting anywhere with this guy.

“Legally she’s not your wife anymore, Mr. Loomis,” The officer finally looked up to Lewis once more. “So technically you have no legal right to see her right now, as you’re not her current family,”

“I AM HER FAMILY GOD DAMMIT!!!” Lewis screamed, losing his cool. He quickly panicked and dialed it back. “I mean, she’s always going to be my family. Her and my precious girls,”

“....Right,” The officer nodded, not amused by his little temper tantrum. He had seen guys like this before; controlling, hot tempered husbands. He had grown up with a man just like that; it was one of the reasons he became a cop.

“And where exactly are your ‘precious girls’, Mr. Loomis?” He added. Guys like these, they lost their heads when they felt cornered. Lewis probably hadn’t even remembered they existed.

“...They’re at home, asleep,” He said softly.

“Alone?” Cooper raised an eyebrow.

“We live like two blocks from here officer,” Lewis lied again, having indeed forgotten about the girls. “I didn’t want to scare them, they’re asleep in their comfy beds, totally oblivious to this nightmare,”

“And exactly how old are they?” Cooper gave him a look.

“...Old enough to be alone for a bit,” Lewis shrugged, hoping he’d take that as an answer.

“Well, at the risk of ‘worrying’ them, I think I’d better send an officer over there to check on them, don’t you think?” The officer asked in a accusatory tone.

Lewis really did want that, he was actually starting to worry about them. He actually had told Maggie that you felt sick and were in your room, and he was going out to get you medicine. But this guy was already clearly skeptical. If he told this officer where you actually lived, he was going to accuse him of child endangerment.

“...Mr. Loomis?” The officer called to him, but he was busy plotting an escape route.

Lewis glanced around the room, gauging how many people were in the vicinity. It was a bunch of pathetic patients with random injuries and illness’s waiting on a doctor, some ER nurses, a receptionist, the two cops, and him and Barba. Then he glanced at the gun in the officer’s holster, a plan formulating in his head. He wanted you all to himself, that was for sure. But you and your fucking white knight might have just outsmarted him for that to happen. Unless... the line you had said earlier about the girls being leverage. He hated the idea of exploiting the girls like that, but he was not going back to prison, and he was not losing those girls.

“Mr. Loomis!” The officer repeated in a louder, angrier tone. Lewis finally looked at him with a very sinister smile, eerily calm.

“...Ah officer, maybe you should take care of that first,” Lewis pointed to something behind him. As soon as the officer turned to see what he was talking about, Lewis yanked the gun from his holster and fired two shots into his head.

--------------

Across the room, Rafael and Officer Sherrie immediately flinched and ducked at the sound of the loud bang from the gun. People began screaming and running around in panic, most of them heading out the front doors of the hospital. Rafael’s eyes widened in horror as he realized Lewis had gotten a gun and had just murdered an officer. He turned to Officer Reagan who looked at him in shock, and a bit in remorse. She knew she had gotten the situation wrong, and now her partner had paid the ultimate price for it.

“Lewis, look just calm down--” Rafael tried to reason with Lewis, but the manic look in his eyes showed him he wasn’t going to get anywhere.

“Why don’t YOU calm down, counselor?” Lewis smirked as he raised the gun to Rafael. If there was one sure fire way to ultimately punish you for trying to run off with the do gooder, it would be getting rid of him altogether.

“No, Lewis don’t--” Rafael barely got out a plea for his life before Lewis had shot a bullet into his chest. More people screamed, and Officer Reagan rushed to help him.

Lewis took this opportune moment to run out of the hospital. He sprinted into the parking lot and picked the first car he saw to break into and hotwire, speeding out of the parking lot back to your place. He had to get the girls before cops found out where you lived. He’d figure out where to go from there.

From inside an examination room, you had started to come to as the IV bags of blood began to fill your system back up. You had barely had a chance to sit up before you heard the first shot go off. You immediately knew it was Billy, he had found you. You saw the doctor and nurses that were in the room with you slam the door shut to keep you all safe from Billy. You could see through a window into the lobby just enough to see Rafael with his hands up, before Billy put a bullet in him. You watched in horror as Rafael slumped to the ground, and a woman officer rushing to help him.

“NO!!!!!!” You screamed, trying desperately to get off the table.

The doctor and nurses held you down and slapped hands over your mouth to keep you quiet, terrified Lewis would come in there next. But to their relief he dashed out the door, and the hands were removed from your mouth. However they kept you pinned down so that you wouldn’t pull your IV’s out, inadvertently letting blood gush out all over the patient room.

You watched helplessly as nurses swarmed Rafael and rushed him off to another part of the hospital altogether.

What kind of nightmare had you woken up to?

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #william lewis x you #william lewis #william lewis x reader #svu fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #william lewis fanfiction #so i married a monster #rafael barba imagine #william lewis imagine #william lewis angst

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the-final-sif · 4 years

Text

Alright, since my prior post about consent has been getting a lot of attention, I wanted to make another to clarify some things that came up.

The TL:DR of the prior post is;

It’s on adults to make sure that we are behaving appropriately around minors online, and make sure that we’re setting boundaries in those relationships. But it’s on minors to communicate that they are minors, and respect those boundaries that are set.

Lying about your age to access a porn site is fine. Lying about your age to engage in sexual situations/adult-only spaces where other real human beings are involved is not.

So, some things I wanted to add to this based on my own thoughts and stuff I was seeing in the reblogs;

1. “If an adult is still willing to talk to you/interact with you in any way regarding sex while you’re a minor, then you run away.”

This is one of those things that sounds good but I actually purposefully avoided putting in my original post because it’s way too big of a blanket statement to be helpful advice for minors in practice.

First and foremost, “adult” and “minor” are broad terms. If you’re a 17 year old and dating/interested in an 18 year old or visa versa, that’s probably fine. 16 and 18 might be pushing it a bit, but as long as things are healthy and legal, a relationship like that is not inherently bad.

Check out what the laws are regarding age of consent for your respective state/countries and make sure you’re following those. Most places have laws that account for things like people being close together in age. Be sure that you’re following the law, because they are serious. If an adult is telling you it’s fine even when it’s illegal, or ‘you could wait for me’ or ‘don’t worry, nobody will find out’, then you block them. No exceptions.

Second, putting aside the more gray areas of ‘adult’ and ‘minor’, there are still situations where it’s appropriate to talk to an adult about sex as long as they are fully aware you’re a minor.

Some examples of situations where it would be appropriate to ask an adult you know online if they would be willing to talk to you about something regarding sex, particularly if you lack adults in real life who you feel you could ask:

You need advice from someone you trust about a sexual situation, maybe something happened that made you uncomfortable and you’re not sure what to do about it.

You need advice on finding trustworthy sexual health resources (side note, check out scarletteen, they’re wonderful).

You’re worried about something regarding your sexual health, and wanted to ask if it was normal (adults aren’t all medical professionals, but I also get that sometimes this is your most reasonable option).

You’ve been told something by other adults in your life about sex, and you aren’t sure if it’s true (sex ed is shitty af in some places, I get it).

In general, if you’re talking about sex because you need advice or help from an adult you trust, then that’s fine. You may have trouble with finding conflict answers on google, or not be able to google things if your parents track your internet history (side note, a VPN can get around parental blocks and prevent your parents from tracking your internet usage, if you’re in a situation where those blocks/tracking is putting you at risk). But before you jump into asking an adult about anything regarding sex, make sure 1) that they’re aware you’re a minor, and 2) that they’re comfortable with answering your questions. Not all adults will be. Not all adults will have answers to your questions. You have to respect it if an adult says they aren’t comfortable discussing this stuff.

All in all, be careful about anything regarding sex that involves an adult. Make sure everyone is on the same page, that everything is legal and comfortable, and if you’re unsure about something, air on the side of caution.

2. “You should have your age publicly listed at all times.”

I saw a lot of people bringing my post to this conclusion, and I wanted to be clear that this is not something I believe in. You do not need to feel obligated to publicly flag yourself as a minor, because that can be uncomfortable for any number of reasons.

If you’re in fandom / sfw spaces, and you aren’t engaging in any nsfw situations (whether they’re sexual or other heavy topics that aren’t always appropriate for minors), then you are not obligated to publicly display your age. If you’re in a fandom / interest group that’s more adult oriented for whatever reason, I would encourage you to flag yourself as a minor in your bio, but you still don’t have to.

The point where you have to disclose your age (or give a rough approximation like 14-15 or 16-17) is the moment you are engaging in any kind of nsfw situation. I’m not going to say that you can never rp a sex scene with someone your own age. That works about as well as telling teenagers they’re not allowed to have sex till marriage. However, you do need to be upfront with anyone you’re engaging in nsfw activity with. You need to be honest about your age, and that should be one of the first things you check in with before you start any kind of nsfw activity.

Experimenting with sex is okay, but be careful about the law in your areas, be careful about who you experiment with, and be upfront and honest with your partner(s) at all times.

#fandom culture #consent #online safety #online privacy #psa #anyways just wanted to get this out here too #I try to minimize the number of absolute statements I make #I'm not here to police anyone's body or yell at teenagers for experimenting #but age of consent laws are serious shit #sif speaks #and open honest consent is not optional

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starlightshore · 3 years

Note

Hey, I just read that post you reposted, and while it was super helpful and did clarify some things, it also confused me, with my main question being: is queer a slur? I apologize if I'm coming off in any negative- especially ignorant- manner! As an LGBTQIA+ ally (and possibly apart of the community, still figuring it out haha), I want to know what words are okay to say or not.

its fine to ask! thank you for caring and making an effort to learn :>

ok so like, the post was talking about the history of it and i assume you hadn’t been able to comprehend it well enough, but basically it boils down to: the history is that the word queer, like a lot of lgbt+ words, has a history and is a foundational pillar of our shared history and important to people’s identities and is fine to use. It’s a good word.

obviously! it should be common sense if its a trigger word (just the same with any other word that can be used against people) you should be careful of its usage around said person with the trigger. but that doesn’t make it a slur. thats just being courteous to people. but as a whole, the word is fine and its best not to let others condemn it when it’s history is so important and vital to people.

personally, its the only word i’m really comfortable with describing myself aside from gay and nonbinary! its so much easier because i get people confused when i say i’m gay and nonbinary, because i also love women and i’m overall unsure of my attraction to men -my own feelings on my gender and attraction is confusing! i’ve only really gotten to explore a more masculine side of myself and its hard to parse whats me and what I like in a partner. its very different feeling than when i see a Pwetty Lady. Ya know? and besides, being nonbinary is a spectrum, you can’t just say you’re attracted to nonbinary people. we’re not a third option -there’s a thousand ways to be nonbinary! Thats like saying “oh i love colors!” and expecting that to mean a single color. without saying like, well, do you like warm or cold colors? Neutral? All of them? Hope that analogy made sense.

to keep things simple, i identity as queer. i am also incredibly closeted irl, and feel safe and its easier to just say i’m gay. i hold onto each of these words with my heart and soul.

anyway back to the topic at hand. its also very important to know that the history of people trying to claim it’s a slur is rooted in Sheila Jeffrey’s attempts to demonize lgbt+ people who didn’t fit her definitions of lesbian. “ political lesbains” is what op called her and her followers. i’m defs a Baby Gay and not really someone who can talk on the history past what that post was saying, and I recommend looking into the sources OP linked in the post, and reread the post again. I’m not really sure wheeeere exactly one would go to learn more about lgbt+ people in general, i kinda just wave my hand to google and looking up on youtube but keep in mind to listen to actual lgbt+ people and watch out for terfs and such.

sorry i’m not really good for resources! im just a random queer blogger who likes undertale and cartoons. hope this post explains my perspective and feelings on the topic. hope u have a good day!

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phcking-detective · 4 years

Text

Baby I Can See Heaven in Your Eyes

Rating: E

Tags: dirty talk / voice kink, heavy petting, dry humping, delayed / denied orgasm, hair pulling, light pet play (Nines is called kitten and told to "sit"), oral fixation, crying, kissing and cuddling as (brief) aftercare before the scene continues, sexual possessiveness, fingering, sub space

TW: sexual roleplay that Gavin is Nines’s “owner” and Nines is his “companion model,” like an at-home Traci; no kink negotiation beforehand, but Gavin checks in with Nines frequently for explicit consent; Nines has a vagina (no gender play)

***

Nines cannot wait for his human to return home, so that he can test his most recent experiment. Thus far, he has tested a phallus, a vaginal component, two dildos, and a vibrator.

He is looking forward to also gathering data on Gavin's dick.

"Hello, detective," he greets the moment of the human's arrival.

Thing One and Thing Two greet him as well, One by rubbing against his legs and purring, and Two by screaming for attention. They have both been fed, and Nines plans on giving them their favorite electronic mouse to hunt as a distraction so he can have the human to himself for the evening.

"Hey, baby," Gavin says. He kneels down and pets both cats. "Hello beasties. Yes, hello. Are you lying? Have you been fed?"

"Yes, they have," Nines answers for them. "Please ignore their wails of alleged hunger."

"Dirty rotten liars," Gavin calls them affectionately.

Nines remotely deploys the mouse with a swirl of his LED. It is big enough to contain a small amount of wet food inside, and the "beasties" quickly chase it into the kitchen.

Gavin stands up with a snort. "Oh, did you want attention too? What've you been doing today?"

"Yes," Nines says shamelessly. "I spent the afternoon thoroughly masturbating myself. How was work?"

Gavin tries to hang his jacket on a coat hook that does not exist and drops it on the floor. "You—what?"

"I spent the afternoon thoroughly masturbating myself. How was work?" Nines asks.

"Not as fun as that," Gavin mutters as he picks up the jacket and tries again. "Did you … uh. Have fun?"

"Yes. I should really thank Connor," Nines says.

Gavin pulls a face. "You fucked Connor? In my—shit, OK. Well. Our apartment? Not on my bed though, right? That's still mine."

Nines rolls his eyes in return. "No, Gavin. I did not fuck Connor. He simply informed me that sex is not merely for reproduction and that it is not hyperbole when humans say they want to fuck someone."

Gavin stares at him. Nines understands. This is all very new information that seemed dubious to him as well.

"Apparently, humans really are out there 'fucking' one another," Nines explains.

"… yeah," Gavin says.

Nines analyzes him, noting his elevated heart rate. "Did you know about this, detective?"

"I—don't scan me!" Gavin snaps. "My sex life is none of your business."

"Oh." Nines feels his LED circle yellow-yellow-red. "But you are sexually attracted me, and Connor said that is not merely an annoying physical response on par with hiccups. Do you not want to have sex with me?"

"On par with …" Gavin stops and rubs his hands across his face. "Phck. We're really going to talk about this, huh? We're just gonna have a whole goddamn conversation about it."

"Yes," Nines says. "Detective."

Gavin puts his hands down to glare at him. "OK, just because I got drunk one time—"

"You get drunk fre—"

"AHT!" Gavin cuts him off with the no-noise he uses on the cats. "One time and ordered a companion android, who—"

"You did not," Nines reminds him. "You googled 'tall smexy anboid' 'want hot robo friemd' and 'am robots gay question-mark question-mark question-mark' before passing out."

"I hate you."

"You think I'm pretty."

"AUGH!"

Gavin stalks into the living room and throws himself onto the couch. Nines does not understand why his human insists on making everything so emotional and difficult and emotionally difficult.

He clearly desires android sexual companionship, given his drunken attempt to order a companion model — [confirmed].

He is sexually attracted to Nines, given that he mistook the RK900's first appearance at his apartment the next morning (entirely coincidental; Captain Fowler assigned them as partners) to be the companion model he attempted to order — [confirmed].

He did not reject the "companion model," despite all commentary from other humans (Cyberlife employees; DPD employees) indicating Nines is [creepy], [inhuman], [terrifying], et cetera, et cetera. Gavin instead labeled him a [big pretty bitch] and [all my phcking wet dreams come true, goddamn].

"You think I'm pretty," Nines repeats.

Gavin finally lifts his head out of his hands. "Yes. You're the prettiest fucking sass bot ever produced."

[confirmed]

"You find me sexually attractive as well, and it is true that humans actually act on those physical desires, yes?" Nines asks.

Gavin sighs and lets his head drop against the back of the couch. "Yeah."

"I have installed a vaginal component, and I—"

"Oh my god," Gavin whispers at the ceiling.

"—have confirmed I enjoy penetrative stimulation," Nines continues. "You are in possession of a phallus, correct?"

Gavin looks up at him. "OK, so you're bored of dildos and you want to try out my dick?"

"Is anyone other than your hand making use of it?" Nines replies.

"Phck off."

"Gladly."

Nines takes a seat on Gavin's lap. This is his [favorite] spot. Now he knows why it flusters the human so much, and also possibly why he enjoys it so much. Could he have been experiencing [sexual arousal] even without a genital component? Interesting.

"Baby," Gavin groans.

Nines relocates the human's hands to his thighs. Gavin obligingly begins rubbing them, almost reaching up high enough to cup his ass. He has sat in this spot before, firstly to mimic the cats, because they seemed to enjoy sitting on Gavin's lap and being petted. Then for [cuddling] and telling each other about their day.

Of course he had noted Gavin's reaction to this; he simply did not categorize it as relevant. The human's stomach also sometimes growled while around the cats, but that bodily reaction did not mean Gavin literally wanted to or would ever eat either one of them. Human bodies sometimes just do things.

But now Nines can recognize he is the [cause] of this particular reaction.

(And also note his new genital component's reaction to his human rubbing his thighs and calling him baby in that tone of voice.)

"Detective," Nines says in return.

Gavin huffs out a growl. "Dammit, Nines. You should—you can … go get another human. Or android, I guess. Just. Someone else."

Nines pulls back enough to ensure he can fully scan the human. Arousal — [confirmed]. No detection of [fear]. Gavin wants this and presumably is not coerced or intoxicated.

But admittedly, Nines did not have a social module pre-installed. He has learned from experience, observing humans in his new profession as a librarian, and … mimicking Gavin's cats.

(Not that he's told that last fact to Connor.)

"Clarify," Nines demands. "Do you not want this?"

Gavin, much like his cats when told to get off the counter, looks away and pretends not to hear him.

"Am I sexually assaulting you?" Nines asks.

"Wha—" Gavin finally gives him a reaction. "No! Fuck, god."

"I am requesting that you fuck me."

Gavin gives him a slow look up and down. "Closest I'm gonna get to heaven, huh?"

Nines preens under his gaze. Question answered, now reassured that his actions are not harming the human, he deploys another helpful tactic he has learned from Thing One and Thing Two.

He repeatedly butts his face into Gavin's to request attention.

"Kiss me."

"Nines, I—"

"Kiss me. Kiss me."

Gavin grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks him into a kiss. Nines ignores the notifications of a mission successfully completed as they scroll across his HUD in order to focus on the experience.

For how roughly Gavin maneuvered him into it, the [kiss] is surprisingly gentle. His lips press insistently against Nines's, drawing back slightly and then pressing again, but it is nothing like the people on TV who seem to be eating each other's faces.

It is … very nice. Warm. The human's lips aren't quite soft, due to chapping from the cold Detroit weather, but the texture is so [interesting]. And the contrast between lips and stubble and the slight pull of the hand still gripping his hair makes his internal cooling fans kick in to abate the sudden rise in temperature.

Then, just as Nines lets his guard down, Gavin bites his lip.

It does not [hurt] or cause any damage of course, but Nines still opens his mouth to ask why—and the human uses that split second to delve his tongue inside.

Analysis explodes across the android's HUD. Gavin's DNA, the hormones present in his saliva, traces of coffee. (And when was the last time he had a meal? Nines should be detecting actual food as well [reminder: my human has not yet consumed his daily caloric intake])

Gavin pulls back and separates their mouths. Unacceptable. Nines pushes forward and puts his own tongue inside the human's mouth to continue his analysis.

For some reason, Gavin pushes him away.

"No tongue until you learn how to kiss," he's told.

Nines does not pout. He presents a perfectly reasonable argument. "I was analyzing you."

"Yeah, that's why I made the rule," Gavin replies. "There's a difference between kissing and analyzing. Also, I need to breathe."

Well. The second fact does hold some merit …

"We can still make out." Gavin shifts his hand from Nines's hair to cup his face. "Just let me lead, all right baby?"

Nines nods and obediently holds still until Gavin guides his face back down. The kiss starts slow again, and the next nip at his bottom lip only tugs on it slightly before Gavin lets go and kisses him again. Nines tries to follow the pattern of when to press forward and when to tilt his—

Gavin's hands slide over the tops of his thighs and then inside them, thumbs pressed close to his groin. Nines barely has time to process this change (he is still being [kissed]) before the detective uses his grip to pull his thighs wider over his lap.

"You wanna show me what I'm working with?" Gavin asks him, his voice low and rough and … very unfair.

Nines leans forward into the human's arms, dropping his head down to rest on his shoulder. He needs less stimulus to process all of this. He restricts his audio input to ignore any sounds outside of the apartment. The mouse program gets abandoned, so the cats will likely be able to bat it out from under the fridge soon. All he needs is Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.

"Touch me," he asks.

The thumb slowly drawing circles on the inside of his left thigh lifts up to stroke over his pubic plate, currently equipped with a vaginal component. It only takes a gentle press to push the fabric of his yoga pants into the slick mess Gavin has made of him.

"Your cunt all wet for me, baby?"

The profanity shivers through him, and Nines nods against his neck. That answer apparently was not [adequate] though, because Gavin takes his thumb nearly away, resting so lightly atop the fabric Nines can only feel his human body heat.

"Need an answer, Nines."

Nines works his mouth silently for a few seconds before remembering to activate his vocal unit. "Yes, Detective."

Gavin hums and it's almost a groan. Nines presses closer and licks his neck. That is not [kissing]. This analysis of his sweat and skin should not be forbidden.

"I'm going to touch you," Gavin tells him.

Nines lifts his head to exhale a cloud of steam. It does very little to lower his rising core temperature, not when Gavin's thumb swipes up to pet across the crotch of his yoga pants until he finds his clit, grown swollen and plump. He chose a larger model, and he had very reasonable—

"Gaaav …"

—reasons. Reasonable … reasons. Yes. Many of them. Aesthetics and—and—more sensors to—

"Oh, baby," Gavin murmurs in that voice. "You need it, kitten? Look at you, you're trembling, and I'm barely even touching you."

That is an unfair assessment. Nines tries to formulate the argument but blows out steam again instead. Gavin has his voice, and the way he spread Nines's thighs so wide, he can clearly see the growing damp patch he's making.

The way that also leaves Nines's [cunt] spread wide, lips separated and hole clenching around nothing.

It feels … [filthy]

[embarrassing]

[exciting]

"So good for me." Gavin pulls Nines's face out of the crook of his neck by his hair. "Let me see you."

Nines goes with the motion. The human has a firm grip on his hair, right at the root, so the tugging doesn't actually [hurt], although the complete lack of resistance likely helps.

But he can hardly see his detective past all the error notifications crowding up his HUD.

Gavin apparently likes what he sees. "Beautiful. My pretty baby."

He doesn't stop circling his thumb around Nines's clit as he says it, and Nines whimpers. He tries to push his hips forward to get more pressure, more touching, more of anything, but Gavin takes his hand away entirely to still his hips.

"Please," Nines gasps.

Gavin gives him a stern look. "Behave."

Nines shudders all over, a full body malfunction. His core temperature has risen almost to dangerous levels. Gavin tugs his head back, forcing his chin up. Nines doesn't understand why (is he no longer allowed to view his human?) until a prompt flashes in red to exhale.

He releases a burst of steam that would have been too hot for human comfort, but Gavin has already preconstructed that. He is allowed to lower his head again once he's completed a few breathing cycles. His temperature and stress levels begin a slow descent as he settles into the knowledge that Detective Reed will take care of him.

"Please, Detective." Nines blinks several times to clear all the notifications. "I will be good."

He saves several still images of the way Gavin looks as he considers: his eyes more black than grey-green, the slight flush across his cheeks, the obvious press of his erection inside his jeans, yet he still remains in control.

(Of them both.)

Gavin lifts up the hand on his hip and offers Nines his thumb. Nines gratefully lets his mouth fall open, thumb gently pressing inside to rest heavily on top of his tongue. His eyes drift shut to focus solely on the analysis he receives.

All too soon, the thumb is withdrawn, but he doesn't have time to protest before it's pressing back into his clit again, even wetter than before, the damp fabric hardly even a barrier at all.

And then does not move.

"What do you say," Gavin asks lowly.

"Th—" Nines gasps. "Thank you, De—Detect—ohhh."

Gavin's own legs underneath him prevent him from closing his thighs around the hand between his legs, and the hand in his hair holds his head hostage so that he cannot look away. He doesn't know what to do with his hands until he realizes that at some point, he put them behind his back, an old program partially activated to stand at parade rest.

This is much better.

"You like this baby?"

Nines tries to nod against the hand in his hair and forces his LED to flash blue along the yellow and red.

"Good boy," Gavin praises. "Just gonna check when your light's been red for a while, all right?"

Nines doesn't answer this time. He just sinks down into it, the obedience of holding perfectly still, the care Gavin shows him, letting someone else have control for once. He enjoyed the way masturbation made his awareness of physical sensation temporarily overtake his thoughts, but he did not expect … this.

Except just when he feels his orgasm approaching, Gavin takes his hand away. He must make some sort of distressed noise, because his detective immediately reassures him.

"Shhh, shhh, I've still got you. You're good, so good for me, baby."

Gavin rearranges their legs as he speaks, holding both hands on Nines's sides to help support and balance him with his hands still gripping his wrists behind his back. The relocation stops with their legs staggered, Nines kneeling with one of Gavin's legs between both of his own instead of straddling his whole lap.

"You wanted to sit in my lap, didn't you kitten?" Gavin says. It is not a question. "So sit."

Nines doesn't understand, but he lowers himself back down anyway to [sit] on top of—

Oh.

Both of Gavin's hands go to his hips this time, showing him how to grind down on the thigh between his legs. The pleasure is not as [focused] as being petted with his thumb, but he finally gets pressure against his entrance as well.

"C'mere."

Nines doesn't realize he's broken posture to slump forward until Gavin pulls him in all the way, carefully nestling him to rest against his chest—although the android does still have to bend slightly to put their heads on an even level due to the height difference.

"Is this what you wanted?" Gavin turns his head to speak softly in his ear. "All those times you crawled in my lap, sat here like this, knowing how goddamn hard you get me?"

Nines whimpers and takes it, almost like a punishment, but so [good]. He only moves his hips as Gavin's hands direct them, as his leg pushes up and his hands pull him down.

"I shouldn't even be this nice to you." Gavin lets out a sigh. "But fuck it, you're cute. Go ahead and take a freebie, baby."

Nines tries to make his next whine sound a bit more questioning, to indicate he doesn't understand the meaning of that either. Luckily, Gavin pays attention. He always pays attention to Nines, in a [good] way, not afraid or gossiping about him behind his back.

"I'm going to let you come this time," he explains.

Gavin drops a kiss against his temple as Nines fixates on the very specific phrasing [this time]. Now he's the one a little scared, but not bad, not bad, it's too [good] to be [bad].

"Wh-when?" Nines manages to ask.

Gavin laughs, deep and almost mean. The not-fear shivers through him again.

He does not receive an answer.

***

Gavin knows he's a bad man. He's a very, very bad man, but goddamn if the universe hasn't rewarded him for it.

"That's it," he tells the gorgeous android rubbing off in his lap. "Next time I won't even have to show you how. Leave my hands free so I can have a smoke."

A cigarette is damn near the only thing that could make this any better. If this isn't a one-time curiosity experiment for Nines, he'll really have to try that the next time.

But for now, he focuses on the present, the absolute goddamn gift Nines is.

"Been waiting for this all day, haven't you?"

He doesn't give Nines time to answer. His thigh flexes underneath the slick cunt desperately grinding into it, and his android whimpers out static.

"How many times have you come already?" he asks.

"S-s-seven," Nines answers through a glitch.

Well. Gavin has to at least work him up to his own number, doesn't he?

"And no refractory period. Goddamn." Gavin sighs in mild envy while petting through his hair. "I could keep you here, just like this, all evening long. Keep you coming and begging for hours."

Nines lets out a grinding noise that might be the android equivalent of a sob. His hips finally lose their rhythm under Gavin's hand, just chasing his own pleasure now. He really shouldn't allow that so easily, but then again, Nines is a virgin who's never done kink before. Or anything else, actually.

So Gavin lets him have it.

But since he's a bad man, not an altruistic one, he pulls Nines's head back by his hair to see his pretty face, eyes wide and unfocused, lips slightly parted. There's a soft blue blush across his cheek's he's never seen before, and his LED practically strobes in his temple.

"Good boy, gonna make you come every time you sit this pretty little pussy in my lap."

Nines squeezes his eyes shut and whines. That's all right. He's too fucked out to make eye contact anyway, but one thing that isn't allowed …

Gavin presses his thumb inside the android's lips, pushing down on his tongue until his mouth drops open. He rubs the pad of it back and forth against the soft muscle for a moment, then down to smear the wet faux-saliva across his bottom lip.

"Keep your mouth open," he orders. "You're only allowed to come if you open that pretty mouth for me."

Nines gives a jerky nod, and Gavin sits back to enjoy the show. He pets his free hand across the android's chest and sides, feeling him up through the thin t-shirt as he rides his leg like he downloaded a Traci program to do it.

Eventually, the android starts spinning more red than yellow, hot air pushed out of his mouth with nearly even exhale, and he pushes his tongue out farther over his lips to show that his mouth is open.

And ohhh, Gavin is so bad. He rubs his thumb over that soft, pink tongue until it's nice and wet, then reaches up underneath his shirt to rub circles around one hard nipple.

Nines starts letting out shuddering sobs that Gavin lets wash over him, feeling them go straight to his dick like the android is being a good little companion and licking up his shaft. Next time, next time …

Finally, he scrounges around deep down in his soul to find some mercy.

"Come on my leg, baby."

He barely gets to "my" before Nines obeys, face dropping slack and LED pulsing a steady Yellow. Red. Yellow. Gavin gets to watch as his tongue gives the tiniest little flexes, like he's sucking cock in a dream.

If he were nice, he'd press his thumb back inside and help his orgasm along by giving Nines something to suck on.

Instead, he waits it out. Good training requires the sub to be just as desperate for it as you are, and he's going to let Nines work his way through a few orgasms with his mouth open and searching, so that when he finally presses the head of his cock into those sweet pretty lips, his android won't feel anything but gratitude.

When Nines finally slumps forward and begins crying against his neck, Gavin lets go of his hair and rubs both hands up and down his back.

"Shhh, hey, I got you," he says softly. "You were good, so good, baby. It's OK, just let it all out."

Nines sniffles, then begins studiously licking up his tears. Gavin would be a little concerned about his sub getting too deep into the headspace for their first time, except Nines licking his face, neck, and any other body part he can reach is pretty typical.

"Did that feel good?"

That gets a slow sigh of air that's just warm, not scalding hot. Gavin rubs a hand up the android's chest next, and Nines starts up a rumbling purr. Blue light spins in the corner of his eye. So he'll take all that as a yes.

"You want kisses?" he asks next.

Nines immediately butts his face against Gavin's cheek. He shouldn't have let the asshole learn how to be social from his fucking cats.

"All right, all right," he grumbles.

Gavin scoops up the lanky android in his arms as much as he can and turns them to the side so they can lay down on the couch, with himself on top of course. Nines lounges back against the cushions, black hair fanning out around his head like a dark halo. He reaches for Gavin and tugs on his shirt when he spends too long admiring the view.

Since he's already so spoiled anyway … Gavin obliges him with kisses. Nines hums and purrs throughout it, LED now a gentle baby blue.

"Did you like that?" Gavin asks quietly between the two of them.

He should have started this scene with that—some rules and a safeword at least—but he'll try to make up for it now with the aftercare.

Nines nods shyly, presenting his face for more kisses. Gavin gives them to him, but he keeps each one light and short to help them both wind down. They need to talk about if this will be an ongoing arrangement, and if Nines just wants to sub or if he wants to really dig deep and roleplay as Gavin's personal companion android.

Gavin tries to open up that conversation. "What do you want now, baby?"

Nines slowly opens his eyes and blinks up at him. His LED turns a slow, lazy yellow for a moment while he glances down.

Then he looks back up and clearly says, "Dick."

Gavin reflexively looks down at his own crotch—which is apparently where Nines was looking, not just demurely averting his gaze, the thirsty little bitch. He meets Nines's eyes again and sees the android watching him expectantly, like a pillow princess waiting to be serviced.

"Don't know how anyone mistook you for a detective," Gavin tells him. "When you're obviously such a slut."

Nines blushes and closes his eyes, but he doesn't bother to hide his preening smirk.

"But you're gonna have to earn that, baby," Gavin continues.

Nines opens his eyes to shoot him the wounded look he learned from their little beasties when being removed from the bed so Gavin can get some goddamn sleep without an eight pound cat laying on his face.

"I can be good," he promises. He glances down between them again. "I do not have a refractory period."

And then he looks up at Gavin from underneath his lashes with those big blue eyes, and all thoughts of kink negotiation and safe words take a running leap and crash through the window.

"I'm going to take off your pants and play with that pretty pussy of yours until you start crying again."

Nines nods eagerly. He even lifts his hips like a good boy to help Gavin peel the yoga pants off him, a sticky strand of lubrication stringing between his lips and the crotch for a moment before the thread breaks. That gets the android blushing and whirring again, but Gavin just chuckles.

He lifts the t-shirt too, but instead of taking it off, he tucks it behind Nines's neck. It's a pitiful restraint, especially against an RK model, but Nines obligingly tucks his arms back behind his back, then waits obediently for Gavin to begin.

And this had better be a long-term thing, because Gavin doesn't think he can ever let anyone touch his android after this. Not with how Nines is looking at him, so open and sincere, without a single doubt that whatever happens next will be good and safe.

He might be a bad man, but shit. At least he knows that. And he also knows how many losers and assholes are out there, sociopaths and abusers and people who are honestly just too dumb and selfish to notice when they hurt someone.

No, his Nines is never going to experience any of that.

"Did you think about me when you touched yourself?" Gavin asks.

He runs his hands up the insides of Nines's legs while he asks the question. That's unfair enough, but rubbing his thumbs right at the creases in his thighs as Nines tries to answer borders on mean.

"I—I, yes. Did." Nines stutters.

Gavin skirts his hands up higher, just barely resting on the outsides of his flushed lips. His clit is big enough to push out past them, a teasing little peek-a-boo that makes Gavin's mouth water. It looks just as fat and swollen with arousal as it had felt when he'd petted over it through the pants.

"Do you like having something in your cunt, baby?"

He gets even meaner when he punctuates this question by using his thumbs to gently pull his lips apart and watch the way his exposed hole clenches and flutters. Nines manages to make his moan sound something like please.

"You have to tell me if you want it," Gavin says sternly. "I'm not just gonna guess about something like that."

Nines frantically nods, his mouth working silently around gasps. He's so worked over just having his legs spread and his pussy put on display. Gavin decides to have mercy—mostly on himself.

"Shhh, OK. I'm going to play with you now."

He circles his thumb around the android's clit gently at first, just watching what kind of reaction partial stimulation to it gets him. Nines shudders out an exhale and his thighs tense.

"That's right, you need to keep your hips still," Gavin tells him.

Nines nods again, blindly, his eyes shut and mouth agape.

"Do you want it like this?"

Gavin slides his other hand up Nines's side, over his chest, to rest lightly on top of his throat. Nines slowly opens his eyes, LED sluggishly spinning yellow. Gavin times the slow circles around his clit to it.

"With rules and taking orders," Gavin explains. "Where you need to obey and behave."

"Yes," Nines breathes out.

He doesn't take that as his real answer right away. "Or do you want it more casual?"

Nines blinks hard, twice, and cocks his head.

"Where I tell you what to do, since I've got more experience. But," He lets go of the android's throat. "You can do what you want. You don't have to hold still or—"

Nines shakes his head no for the first time. "I … I want … to be … good."

"As a good boy, or my own personal companion android,"

Gavin strokes his thumb directly down the length of Nines's swollen clit for the first time.

"That I can pet,"

He keeps his thumb where it is and shifts his fingers to tease the tip of his index against the entrance clenching at it.

"And play with,"

"Yes, yes, please," Nines chants.

Gavin presses the finger inside and it goes so easy. Enough for him to believe Nines really has spent the entire afternoon doing nothing but fucking himself in Gavin's own bed.

"And fuck,"

He adds a second finger without any resistance and gets those tears he promised. He really can't stop a grin from spreading across his face at that, just as sharp and vicious as any of the RK's interrogation protocols.

"Whenever, and however …" He pulls his hand out entirely, leaving Nines gasping and wrenching his eyes back open to stare up at him in pleading confusion. "I want."

Nines sniffles and starts to shift his hips to seek out any stimulation he can. Gavin stills them with both hands, and tries to keep his voice soft and free of judgment for the next part.

"Do you still want to behave?" he asks.

He watches as Nines realizes what that really means. What he would be promising Gavin—just for this scene. They really do still need to have an actual talk before he'll accept anything as a permanent, serious answer, but he can't resist at least throwing this option out there for now.

Nines tilts his head back to release steam, but then he settles back down. His whole body eases in a way Gavin has never seen before actually—even though he rejected his programming in terms of working for either Cyberlife or the DPD, it always still shone through in his perfect posture and too-formal speech.

This is the first time he's ever seen the android look … relaxed.

Gavin waits, but he doesn't even attempt to hide the way he sweeps his gaze over Nines's body, appreciating the thick chest, pecs well-defined enough to almost give him a bust, nipples hard and begging for attention, and his legs still spread wide, showing off a perfectly manicured triangle of soft black curls right over where his cunt drools onto the couch.

He drags his eyes back up to meet Nines's soft look, utterly relaxed and blinking slowly. He already knows what the answer will be just from that, but he still waits for it.

"Yes, Detective."

***

this was commissioned by @gavinisqueertbh and you can find my commission info pinned to the top of my blog! subscribers to my patreon get early access to all my commissioned fics two weeks before they’re posted here and on AO3 for free ^^

#reed900 #gavin reed #dbh #dbh fic #detroit: become human #my writing

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liskantope · 4 years

Text

Hopefully this will be my last-ever post complaining about what someone said on social media, because current events are simmering down and once they’ve reached a moderate enough hum I’m going to redouble my previous efforts to stay away from it. But the particular interaction I’m going to describe seems to have furthered my progress slightly in understanding why so many people shout their views in the way that they do and how I should learn to better accept it.

One of my “closest” Facebook friends for over a decade, whose life’s passion nowadays revolves around anti-racist work (mainly in childhood education; she is white) posted a few hours after Biden’s victory was officially called last Saturday to preach that white Biden-voters shouldn’t claim any of the credit for his victory because it was BIPOC and particularly black women who carried this election (her justification for why they “carried us” was that as a demographic group most of them voted for Biden while as a demographic group a majority of white people voted for Trump), and that nothing will be better now except for who is in the White House because “whiteness and white supremacy have not disappeared” and that “your” responsibility is not diminished and “you” are not absolved as a good white person. She ended with an exhortation to bow down and “bend your knees” to BIPOC for “saving our asses”.

(Just realized looking back at her post to write this one that the phrasing was not “bend the knee” as I repeatedly misread at the time, assuming that it was a direct reference to Game of Thrones of which I know she’s a fan, and having recently listened to this insightful 8-minute Sam Harris podcast episode which used the phrase. This is slightly unfortunate since it was the obnoxiousness of that particular phrasing which tipped me over to acting against my better judgment in not just ignoring this like I have with so many dozens of other statements. I still find it obnoxious, though, and sanctimonious, and terrible messaging, and using poor arguments about causation, and reflecting an insistence on viewing as much as possible in terms of race at all times, and the epitome of identity politics.)

So yeah, after waiting a couple of days, I broke my usual silence and wrote a very polite but argumentative response that turned out to be enough paragraphs to make me feel a little embarrassed that I would take that much of my time on it. I knew there was virtually no chance of convincing her of anything substantial, but I figured just maybe some insight into how foreign and alienating this “you are responsible for what everyone of your color does and are never good enough and have to kneel in deference to those of a color which is” messaging is bound to be to anyone who’s less in an academic bubble than we are (which is, like, most people). I made the point that individual BIPOC didn’t contribute any more than individual white people did to Biden’s victory and that if we’re going to judge blocs of voters according to race we should be blaming Cuban-Americans for Biden’s loss in Florida, and that in fact Trump gained votes from among BIPOC and lost white male votes since four years ago. I wrote that implying that the only salient feature of us individuals is race is exactly what people complain about when they use the term “identity politics” and that the results of this election suggest that maybe we’re doing something wrong with our messaging.

It wasn’t a disaster. I got a very cordial response which completely avoided ad hominem and at least engaged the points I had made while clarifying her views. I didn’t find the supposed rebuttals of my points at all convincing, of course. For instance, my complaint about treating individual voters as merely people of a certain color was met with “It’s important in anti-racist scholarship to be able to analyze demographic trends in terms of race” (I would... never disagree with this?) and that focusing on individuals allows people to only look at their own actions and those of their friends and feel too good about themselves. She also expressed skepticism about my statistics about where Trump gained/lost support, which I was able to back up with a quick Google search which pulled up a Vox article among others (I thought it was only the insufficiently committed white liberals like me who sucked at Googling?). But her own views, while still resting on axioms I fundamentally differ on, just sounded a lot more reasonable when restated? E.g. “Moments like this shouldn’t be centered on whiteness” and “the ‘good white liberals’ should be aware that they aren’t as a big of a demographic in our race as they should be” (I don’t know any white liberal who would disagree or who doesn’t realize that white people vote majority Republican or is okay with that?) and that the bowing and bending the knee was not “a literal statement” but simply meant to convey that we should greatly respect how BIPOC voters contribute. She ended with providing a long list of anti-racist activists (the only one of whom I’m familiar with is Ally Henny, who I mainly remember for statements about how I’m encased in so many layers of racism that I would never be able to peel them off if I spent my whole lifetime doing nothing but trying) as a “starting point” of study.

I replied thanking her for pointing me to sources and agreeing with her implication that I should read more with a mind towards understanding what they’re saying before spouting off any more opinions. (Guess I have to make good on that promise now.) I made clear that I see a difference between her restatements and the way she worded things in her original post and suggested that some of this might even be on me for interpreting these kinds of posts more as logical arguments when they should be understood in a slightly more poetic manner. I gently gestured towards my suspicion that the current scholarship in this area might reflect a university culture (which I am very much a part of) more than the concrete priorities and concerns of the majority of people of color, although I’m in no position to positively claim anything about this. I got no response.

Anyway, in writing my last response, a little more clicked into place for me about a different lens through which I should process all the behavior that drives me nuts in a written context online (I mainly mean social media but am being even broader than that). This is going to sound condescending but ironically it might help me to have a less condescending attitude?

The fact is -- and I just have to accept this -- that making efforts to be nuanced and to “meet people who disagree where they are at” and to aim for the truth but no farther than the truth are simply not highly-valued principles for most people (social media -users and otherwise). They may kinda-sorta agree in the abstract with these principles, but in practice they hold a much lower status than the principles of conveying anger and strong words as a sign of commitment towards Fighting Evil. Some people I know do have an “argumentation value system” closer to mine, and I know who those people are -- it really shows in what they write online. But those people are a fairly small minority.

And this alien “argumentation value system” isn’t something that really shows in casual real-life interactions very plainly at all (which of course is what almost all human interactions were up until 10-15 years ago), while in contrast social media is an environment that augments its effect.

The sooner I accept this, the more moderation I’ll be able to manage in my negative reactions. I can remind myself that there’s less fundamental disagreement on most actual issues between me and the people I know: we instead disagree on a sort of meta-level issue of how one’s views should be presented. And that issue, taken by itself, seems somehow like something more minor. I wrote a few months ago about how knowing what so many people in my life write publicly oftentimes interferes with my capacity to view them as potential intimate friends/partners. Maybe I can be a little more accepting when I recognize that the things they write which turn me off perhaps don’t come from a place of such irrationality as I thought, that the differences in our ways of thinking might not be quite so fundamental (although this differing system of values for argumentation still strikes me as something that could badly affect a marriage, say). And in the practical short term, I can ignore things that bother me more easily in the future -- instead of feeling like I’m on a tilted playing field where everyone else gets to vent without inhibition while I have to carefully monitor and qualify everything I say, I can try to just round a lot of this off in terms of different preferred writing styles and somehow that bothers me less?

A similar underlying principle holds for the things that annoy me on dating profiles, what with the collective obsession with dogs and boasts of being “fluent in sarcasm” and so on. This probably doesn’t reflect much about the way the creators of these profiles actually are as humans in real life. Not that many single women really view their dogs as the most interesting thing that ever was or will be about their lives. They just choose to have a certain style of exposition about themselves because of peculiarities of the environment of online dating sites/apps, where showing enthusiasm and individuality in some way seems to pay and the topic of dogs would seem like a pretty safe place to direct this performed enthusiasm. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t demonstrate some aspect of incompatibility with me or that I’m not going to be more instantly attracted to those with profiles that have more refreshing things to say than stuff about how amazing dogs are or of those who *gasp* actually prefer cats or *deeper gasp* prefer not to have pets at all. But it means that I can read the dogs-and-sarcasm-enthusiast profiles a little more charitably maybe?

This slightly altered mindset is a far from perfect solution, but I think it helps. A lasting three-quarters-of-the-way disconnect from social media entirely still needs to be a goal at this point.

#Social media #better decision 2020 #social justice #online dating #pets

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crankgayplays · 5 years

Note

"Have you seen my hoodie?" with Chase (the hoodie thief) and Bing please? :)

I answered this one before the other one with them i have cause i need some fluff ksjdfhjsldf

Bing frowned, digging through his laundry basket furiously. He for the life of him couldn’t find his black hoodie bearing the bing logo anywhere. Running fingers through his short hair the android made his way out of his room and poked his head into the kitchen dodging the knife thrown by his fellow android with ease. “Hey, bruh did ya see my hoodie?”

Google rolled his eyes, putting away the dishes he was finishing, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter fixing the orange android with a blank stare. “Did you try checking the septic household? I’m sure you left it there with your boyfriend.”

Bing’s cheeks tinted a deep orange, and he took the steak knife out of the wall next to him throwing it right back at google, the blue android dodging with ease. “Chase and I are just friends dude! Lay off it!” Goggle snorted dismissively, glaring at Wilford as he walked into the kitchen and smacked the back of his head.

“Play nice with your brother google.” Wilford huffed before turning around to face Bing with a grin. “I can zap ya over there kiddo just so you can check.” nodding, still warm in the face Bing happily accepted the help and found himself in front of Jack’s home before he could even voice his thanks to Warfstache, the older man already gone.

“One of these days I should like, deffo ask him how he does that it’s hella dope.”

Shaking off the thought, Bing made his way up the steps and knocked on the door, it swung open to reveal a very tired looking jack. “Ah hey tere bing” his accent was always thicker when tired or upset, Chase had the same thing and it was adorable. On chase! Not Jack, dude was like a brother .. um so was Chase! Obviously, dude was his bro .. ugh. Snapping out of his hectic thoughts Bing realized Jack had invited him inside and turned around walking back into the house. Nodding, he followed the youtuber close as he blearily yelled “Ey!! Bing’s ere!”

From the kitchen, there was a crash and muttered Gaelic swears, and Bing could hear Marvin’s concern. “Chase?! Are you okay that looked like it burned.” he could also hear the doctor laughing at something, with a wheezed out.

“You’re zo vucked!!” his laughing almost sounded hysterical. “Busted!!”

Jack groaned pushing the kitchen door open muttering something about living with a bunch of adult children. When Bing pushed into the room he stopped, if breathing was a necessary function for him he would have had the air punched straight out of him. There stood Chase in the middle of the kitchen, grimacing while Marvin held his red hand attempting a spell to heal the mild burn and Heinrich bent over the table cackling with his arms over his head.

Clearly, the four of them had been up late, Marvin in a big t-shirt and shorts, long hair sleep mussed and all over the place. Heinrick was wearing some dirty scrub pants he’d clearly stolen and a dirty stained t-shirt as well as his glasses and some heavy dark circles. That wasn’t that big no what punched the nonlife out of the cybernetic entity was what chase was wearing.

Chase stood there in very short flamingo shorts that showed off his strong slightly fuzzy legs, barefoot and backward cap covering his slightly longer hair making him look a bit small. What really made him look small however, was the much larger and longer black hoodie that covered most of his body almost making him look like he wasn’t wearing pants. Chase was flushed when his eyes met Bing’s, his sensors telling him Chase’s heart rate was elevated and his blood pressure was rising. He was scared, probably a bit pissed.

Bing smiled shakily, his own tech going into a tizzy in a way he didn’t really understand at the sight as he walked over to the two and took Chase’s hand in his own giving it a quick scan. “S’just a surface burn kitty dude, your magic rocked it out.” smiling at the effeminate spellcaster who smiled and bounced a bit on his feet reaching up to ruffle Bing’s hair.

“glad you’re here sweetie, we missed you,” Marvin said, moving to finish the bacon Chase had almost dropped. Bing chuckled, relaxing a bit at the warm welcome.

“Happy to be back kitten.” Heinrich finally looked up from his calmed down giggle fit, only to start giggling once more.

“Iz eet necessary to keep holding hiz hand?” Bing felt his processor kick into high gear, heating him up and making his readings twitch out of place again, the orange glow hitting his dark skin as he pulled his hand away from Chase’s.

Chase glared at the doctor, face beet red, before shooting Bing an apologetic smile. “Hey. I um, suh bro?” Bing couldn’t resist a slight smirk, he never saw Chase this flustered it was kinda cute.

Cute.

Huh ok.

“I was wondering if you guys have seen my hoodie?” he teased, and the room couldn’t hold their laughs. Marvin’s back was facing them but his little body tittered with his restrained giggles, Jack snorted into his coffee and Heinrich went right back to his giggle fit. Exhaling, Chase pulled in on himself, shoulders slumping in embarrassment.

“I .. s-sorry bro, I know it’s weird I’ll take it off -” Bing’s eyebrows rose and he moved his hands to Chase’s wrists smiling.

“No no! I don’t mind bro! You look nice in it! I’m glad someone else got to enjoy how hella comfy it is!” and it was true! Bing was loving the sight of his friend in the hoodie. Curiously, he started a background search to find out if this was connected to the emotional mimicking his ai allowed him. Chase’s cheeks got red again, pulling the hoodie close with a shy smile.

“Ah, thanks dude it’s … hell comfy and it smells nice.” Chase’s eyes widened a bit, realizing he’d said that out loud and Bing missed the surprised, concerned look Jack shot Chase as he responded with a laugh.

“My cologne is dope as hell right?!” laughing and settling down at the table next to Jack “Would it be alright if I stayed for breakfast?” he was always a touch more formal with Jack and Mark. The Irishman laughed nodding at Marvin and Chase to continue cooking and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Always bingy, you’re family.” Bing’s million-watt smile only got brighter at that statement as he settled into his seat humming peacefully. After a moment a ding alerted him to a completed search and he opened the files.

‘Data Compilation of Human Habit: Hoodies

Question: Why is the human chase wearing bing.untit456′s hoodie? Why does the bing unit enjoy it? Why is the smell enjoyable for the human Chase?

Findings: It is a common documented habit of romantic and sexual partners ( usually the smaller statured partner ) to take the hoodies of their partner as the size and familiar smell of their partner is comfort and gives them something to remember them by when separated. The partner who’s hoodie is stolen often enjoys the visual stimuli of their partner in their hoodie due to the mixture of possession and marking their claim along with it being a physical sign of the partner’s need to feel close to them and have their smell around them. While the action can be interpreted as platonic as well that is far rarer and the bing units reactions imply a reaction mimicking that of a partner seeing their partner in their clothes.’

Bing blinked, shaking away the results and letting his orange iris’ settle on the slender form of his long-time friend dancing around the kitchen in his hoodie that was three sizes too big making breakfast for them and felt the turbine where his heart would be thrum to life like crazy.

“oh.” realization hitting him like a ton of bricks, he was in love with his best friend. Jumping a bit when he felt jack nudge him in the side, Bing looked at the older man who smiled.

“Just to clarify, I’m gonna guess you searched human behavior and stuff, he didn’t do it platonic. He likes how you smell and the warmth of the hoodie.” Bing was probably the shade of pumpkin at this point his body’s internal heat valves going crazy. Huffing and giving Jack a playful glare he muttered.

“You’re a traitor” and Jack smirked sipping his coffee.

“and you two’re hopeless without help.” Bing couldn’t argue that and sighed pushing his chair away from the table and walking over to the over where Marvin and Chase stood. Jack banged on the table to get Marvin’s attention and ushered him over quickly before Chase could react to the sudden sound he felt strong arm’s around his waist and a chin on his shoulder deep, sexy voice rumbling in his ear.

“I like you, in my hoodie.”

Chase laughed nervously, a bit manic even, hands shaking as he plated the bacon. “no homo right?”

Bing laughed, picking up on the rush of Chase’s blood with his sensors and pushed closer to him pinning the other man to the oven and pressing their bodies together. “A little bit homo”

Heinrick groaned “In front of my coffee? REALLY?!”

#bingiplier #chase brody #bingaverage #my writing #Anonymous

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carry-on-big-bang · 4 years

Text

FAQ

Here is a big list of questions that we’ve gotten over the years/ things we want to clarify. We hope that this is a helpful tool for you. Each section has a big section header with individual questions under each of those. The sections are in the order as followed: general, Before signing up, Writer, Artist, Explicit content, Partner problems, Claiming, Dropping out, Check-ins, and Posting.

Who are the mods and where can I find them?

The mod for these events is currently Mod Simon and Mod Autumn. You can find us at @isthisisagoodkiss (Mod Simon) and @angelsfalling16 @Autumn)

What event is happening right now?

Right now we are hosting the Carry On Big Bang 2021, our fourth event.

What does that mean?

A big bang is a collaborative fandom event in which writers and artists come together to create masterpieces. Basically, the writers write a bunch of (usually quite long) fic and the artists choose one each (“claiming”) and make art for the fic. Then it will all be posted more or less at once in an explosion of fanwork.

Before signing up

1. How do I sign up?

We will post a link to the writer google form and artist google form on both tumblr and the discord server. Anyone can apply. You must provide your email, other contact information, and agree to our rules.

2. Do I need experience or a certain age to participate?

No! Though we do ask that participants under 18 do not make explicit fic or art.

3. What is a “pinch-hitter”?

A pinch-hitter is someone who is willing to cover for others. This usually only applies to artists, but is vice versa with writers. If someone drops out we will send an email out to those who said yes to being a pinch-hitter and ask someone to step in.

4. Can I sign up as both an artist and a writer?

Yes!

5. Do I need to have a certain skill level to participate?

No. We welcome all skill levels. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been writing/ creating art for one day or 10 years!

6. How many projects per person?

You can do as many as you would like. We ask you to keep your limits in mind though.

7. Why do you need my tumblr? What about discord? Why both?

We ask for these things because it’s another way to contact participants. We usually only resort to using these when someone hasn’t responded to a check-in through email.

8. What if my contact information changes?

Just send one of the mods a message with your past contact info and what you would like it changed to and we can fix that right up.

9. Will we get reminders about check-ins and posting?

Yes! We send out an email when the check-ins go live and those that haven’t responded once the due date is a day or two away will receive another email. On the final day of the check-in we will send out a reminder through tumblr/discord to those who have still not checked in.

10. I heard there was a discord. What’s that about?

We use our discord as a place to answer questions, bring people together, and give participants a space to talk about their works (without going too much into detail). There are separate channels for artists and writers as well as some general channels. We also have participants who participated in years past who have stuck around.

11. What timezone are dates set in?

PST. That’s where Mod Simon lives and seems like a pretty good “true end of the day” time.

12. What time of day do emails go out?

We don’t have a specific time that emails go out, but it’ll usually be between 9 am and 2 pm PST.

13. What parts of my information will be shared with others?

We will share your email address and tumblr handle with your partner, but nobody else. If you do not have a tumblr, then we will share your discord username and 4 digit code.

14. I missed sign-ups. Can I still participate?

Unfortunately, no. We feel like we give a significant amount of time for people to sign-up. We’d be glad to have you next year, though!

Writer

1. When can I start writing?

You can start writing whenever you want! We suggest that you start before the second check-in on May 1st.

2. How much can I write?

The minimum word count is 4,000 words, but beyond that you have free rein.

3. What happens if my plot changes?

If this happens after you’ve submitted your fic concept and before preview day, send one of the mods a message and fill out the form again. If it happens after teams have been announced just talk to your partner about it.

4. The minimum word count for fics is 4k. How does that work for chaptered fics?

If your first chapter is more than 4k words, then post just that on your day of posting and finish posting after July 31st when all of the posting for the event is complete. If your first chapter is less than 4k words then post as many chapters as it takes for you to get across the 4k words mark on your posting date.

5. What if I don’t know what my word count for my fic will be?

Just give us an estimate. It doesn’t matter to the mods if your mind on this changes, just be sure to talk to your partner.

6. Can we co-write?

Yes! We have a place on the form for you to put the email and tumblr handle of your co-writer. If you have a co-writer, we only need one of you to fill out the check-ins but if both (or more) of you want to do it, you’re welcome! The artist for the cowriters still must fill out the check-ins as usual.

7. Can we write tropes/AUs that have been used in past COBB events?

Of course!

8. How will we send in our fic concepts?

We will send out an email to writers on February 19th with a link to a google form for you to fill out.

9. Can I write AUs, crossovers and the like as well?

Yep!

10. Do I need to include Snowbaz?

No. You can write whatever.

11. Are writers required to have a beta reader?

No.

12. Do I need to have an AO3 account?

You do not, but we recommend it.

Artist

1. What is Preview Day?

Preview Day is the day in which all fic concepts are posted on airtable and available for all artists to see. Claiming has not started yet so this gives artists time to see which fics they might be interested in making art for.

2. When can I start making art?

You can start making art when you know your team. We recommend also talking with your writer about your art.

3. Is there a limit to how much art I can make?

Nope!

Explicit Content

1. Do I need to be a certain age to make explicit content?

We ask that participants under 18 do not make any explicit content.

2. Can I make explicit art?

You can, but we will not have it on the masterpost that you send in. You can, however, post a link to it on that post.

Partner Problems

1. My partner isn’t being respectful. What do I do?

Tell the moderators and we will have a talk to them as well as possibly kick them out of the event.

2. What if my partner doesn’t respond?

Send the mods a message and we will try to contact them.

Claiming

1. How do I claim a fic?

We will send out an email to all artists on February 24th with a link to a google form where you will put your top three fic concepts.

2. Where will the fic concepts be posted for claiming?

On airtable! We will send an email out to artists with a link on February 23rd.

Dropping Out

1. What happens if I want to drop out?

You should communicate with your partner about dropping out and then send us an email at [email protected]

2. What happens if my partner drops out?

You will have to decide whether you want to keep going with your project or drop out as well. If you want to drop out, just tell us. If you’d like to keep going we will send out an email asking for someone to step in and work with you. We should have you a new partner within a week.

Check-ins

1. Who needs to fill out the check-ins?

Everyone on your team must fill out the check-ins (unless you have cowriters. Then only one of the cowriters has to fill out the check-ins. More info can be found above in the writer section).

2. When must my response for check-ins be turned in by?

A week after they open. The first check-in must be turned in by March 19th. The second by May 7th. And the 3rd by June 8th.

3. How do check-ins work?

We will send an email out to all participants on the day of the check-in (March 13th, May 1st, and June 2nd) with a link to the check-in. You will fill out the form answering how your progress is coming and if you need help with anything. It should take about 5-10 minutes to fill out each form.

4. What if I don’t have access to the internet when a check-in or posting happens?

If you know prior to the check-in that you won’t have internet access send one of the mods an email and we can give you the form early. If you do not know prior, then message us once you have access again and we’ll be understanding. If this happens during posting your partner can submit your masterpost. Make sure that both people have access to the fic and art!

5. Are check-ins mandatory?

Yes.

6. What if I’m too late to turn in a response for a check-in?

Try not to be too late, especially since we’re giving you a week to submit them, but we’ll be understanding.

7. I’m working on two teams. What should I do for the check-ins?

You should fill out the form once for every team that you’re on. There’s also a place for notes on the form. Be sure to tell us which partner you’re working with for each submission.

Posting

1. When should I post my works?

Posting will take place between June 16th and June 30th. You will be assigned a day to post based on your preferences.

2. Where should I post my works?

You can post them wherever!

3. What will posting look like?

First, you and your partner will post your things where you would like. Then, one of you will compile a masterpost that you will submit to our tumblr and we will post it.

4. Will there be an AO3 collection to add my works to?

Yep! More information about that will come out in June.

5. Is there a certain time of day that our fic/art should be posted?

No but if you can do it before 11 pm PST on your assigned day that would be great.

6. How do I submit my masterpost?

On our blog, there is “Submit your masterpost”. Click on that and it will take you to the place you should put in the masterpost. Make sure to click “submit” at the bottom. The information for what a masterpost should look like will come out in June. If you want another example you can look at older submissions.

7. Why do our projects need to be done by the 3rd check-in?

We have this as a deadline because it means that there is extra time should you need it.

8. What do I do if I think my part of the project won’t be done by the posting date?

Talk to your partner about what you should do and then send a message to the mods, preferably before June 9th.

#faq #cobb 2021 #carry on big bang 2021 #mod simon #announcement #carry on big bang

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aspire-to-the-light · 5 years

Text

Micro-disability

I cannot follow pointer fingers, or rotate objects in my head. If you point at an object on a table of objects, I usually can't pick out the one you're talking about unless you get close enough to almost touch it; I just can't draw that invisible line in space and select the object you're trying to indicate. If you're giving me directions, you can't point to a house and say "turn left there" - all I'll do is look puzzled and repeatedly ask where you mean until you clarify with a description.

I knew someone once with an old shoulder injury that meant he couldn't lift one arm directly above his head. He could lift it most of the way, but not the whole way, so his reach was just a little less than others might have assumed, and sometimes he got odd looks if he had to ask for help reaching a high shelf.

A partner of mine can't be in rooms where too many conversations are happening at once. His brain can't filter out the ones he isn't listening to from the one he is, so he quickly gets overwhelmed and distressed and needs to leave.

I can't walk quickly without it taking up my entire concentration and becoming tiring very fast. I walk at an astonishingly slow pace naturally, and if I consciously speed up my steps then they subconsciously get smaller, and if I consciously lengthen my steps then they subconsciously get slower. Something about going faster is just very rapidly physically and psychologically exhausting, and I don't know precisely what it is. I can run forever without dropping at my comfortably mid-speed loping pace, but I can't go much faster than it.

None of these things fit the criteria to be disabilities, under the 'standard' definition. We aren't incapable of holding jobs or having fulfilling home lives because of these limitations. We don't need paid carers, or the government to give us benefits because we can't work, and it probably isn't worth medical help to fix the problem.

At the same time, a huge amount of the discourse around disability rights is valid and useful for discussing these problems. My partner ought to be able to say that a room is overwhelming because of the number of conversations happening, and people ought to respect that by taking him elsewhere to continue their own conversation. He shouldn't be judged for it, or have people assume he just isn't trying hard enough, or be shamed. He certainly shouldn't be fired for it; accommodations should be made.

Like with 'full' disabilities, micro-disabilities can become more disabling when there's an intersection of them. I also have auditory processing disorder; I struggle to hear people if there's background noise, or if they're looking away from me and not projecting towards me. In other words, if you're walking in front of me, I can't hear you - and because I walk slowly, I'm almost always trailing behind the back of the group. It makes me feel constantly excluded and dismissed from conversations while I'm walking with people, like nobody values me enough to slow down so that I can hear them.

The concept illustrates some aspects of how we think about providing accommodations, asking for evidence, and validating disabilities. Often, the policy of institutions is to require evidence of a disability before they will accommodate it. You can't get free medical treatment unless a doctor certifies you actually have the disease, or you can't get extra time on tests unless you fail some other tests, or you can't sue your employer for firing you unless you can demonstrate it's actually your disability that's making you late all the time. The thing about micro-disabilities is that almost nobody will ever be able to prove that they have one, because it simply isn't worth diagnosing. I can't go to a doctor and get a certificate that says I get nauseous if I wake up too early, or I struggle to follow pointer fingers, or I have to keep my hair short because I find it painful to hit a tangle when I'm brushing my hair, or I get stomach bugs more often because of my hopeless addiction to biting my nails.

My doctor simply does not have the time or inclination to measure my ability to understand finger-pointing, decide whether it falls below some threshold, and issue a certificate that says I am now Officially Disabled and my employer will be in Big Trouble if they fire me for being unable to follow pointer fingers. So if I want this to be accommodated - if I want people to give me descriptive directions rather than assuming I can see what they're gesturing at - I have to simply ask them to trust that I really am trying my hardest, I just can't do this.

How you treat micro-disability is, I think, a good lens into whether you truly respect the needs of disabled people. If you'll grudgingly provide accommodations to those who can prove they are really disabled, that's one thing. But people with micro-disabilities aren't really disabled. They're just... a little bit disabled. So do we accommodate them? Do we respect them when they say 'hey, I can't do this' or do we raise our eyebrows and ask them to try harder? Do we listen when they say things are harder for them than for others, or do we look at them oddly and tell them we've never heard of that disability before?

It's a more complicated question than it might seem, I think. Because we accommodate all sorts of micro-disabilities all the time - the ones that are ordinary enough that we don't even think of them as disabilities. Being too short to reach high shelves, or too weak of grip to open jars, or too broad-shouldered for a small-size jacket; these are things we accommodate all the time.

We don't think of someone as disabled for needing reading glasses, but neither do we think that they're faking because they only need the glasses sometimes.

The micro-disabilities people doubt are the odd ones, the ones we struggle to explain and understand. Neither I nor doctors understand why I walk slowly, and it isn't a common problem to have, and that's precisely why people assume I could just try harder and keep up.

Which is awkward when micro-disabilities are so often just tiny, rarely-reported or lesser-known symptoms of "official" disabilities. I have a diagnosis of ADHD, and the common perception is that that means that I can't concentrate or sit down. But it actually affects so much more than that. How many of my tiny mental symptoms are my ADHD expressing itself in ways nobody knows are associated with ADHD? Who knows.

It is meant to illustrate that disability is a spectrum. We cannot draw a line, anywhere in the progression from 'gets tired easily when walking' to 'walks with a limp' to 'can only walk with a cane' to 'can't walk and uses a wheelchair', and say with confidence that people on one side of the line are really fully disabled and those on the other side aren't. 'Micro-disability' merely points at the existence of some centre place between fully abled and being so disabled that it majorly impairs your ability to have an ordinary life; it's still a fuzzy category, with boundaries that almost make less sense the more you think about them.

It's a more inclusive view of disability, certainly. Almost everyone has some kind of micro-disability, whether it's slow reading or a food sensitivity or a chronically infected toenail that hurts when stepped on. Disabled people aren't some odd group of cripples hidden away in hospitals that you'll never meet; disabled people are everyone who can't do certain things that others can do, for reasons that aren't their fault. Some of us may need more or less help and support than others, but all of us just deserve people to listen to us about what we need.

It took a long time, but I ended up reframing a lot of my little difficulties in this way, and I think it makes my life better. I don't force myself to just try harder to navigate any more; I just take my phone everywhere and use Google Maps, rotating the screen for every turn I take because I can't do it in my head. It's... a thing worth introspecting about.

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honeypiehotchner · 5 years

Text

Trust -- part thirty-five

It’s been a moment, hello! My mood took one of worse turns it has in a while the past couple weeks, but I think I’m back on track now (go to therapy, kids).

Also! I move into college in three weeks, and I won’t have as much free time. My goal is to finish this story before I move, though, so this is your warning that the end is near. Love you guys xx.

(Listen I don’t really like this part and idk if it’s my brain still in the weird mood or if it genuinely does suck, so be gentle lol)

“Sherlock,” you call, tucking your legs underneath you on the sofa.

“Hm.”

“When was the last time you went out?”

He gives his violin a strange look – he’s tuning it before he plays – but you know that look was meant for you if he wasn’t preoccupied. “What do you mean?”

“A case,” you clarify for him. “When was the last time you and John went out on a case together?”

“We just did a case last week.”

“No, that wasn’t a case, that was a small outing and you solved it in five minutes,” you reply tiredly. “I mean an actual case.”

“Oh,” he hums, lifting his violin to his chin. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you didn’t like not knowing.”

A glare is the next expression sent your way as he picks up his bow and begins to play. He’s been working on a waltz for John and Mary. He’s told them (promised, more like) he’ll play it for their first dance at the wedding, which, again you try not to think about the dreams you had. But it’s incredibly hard when life is appearing to imitate them in the smallest of ways.

“I’m just saying,” you speak over his playing. “I think it’d be good if the two of you got out and did a case together.”

The violin falls from his neck as he gives you a pointed stare. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you chuckle. “I just don’t want to be the reason you’re stuck in this flat for the rest of your life.”

“You’re not,” he replies firmly, lifting his instrument once more. “If I wanted to leave, I would. My brother’s security won’t be reason to stop me.”

“I know that,” you breathe. “Speaking of, if you were to go out, I’m sure Mycroft would send an extra guard. Or I could ask Mary to come over. Speaking of Mary, what time did they say they were coming over?”

“Noon,” comes Sherlock’s short reply.

It’s barely ten now. This is one of the rare mornings where you and Sherlock are actually awake in the morning.

“Well,” you heave out a sigh, standing to your feet. “I’m going to get dressed. Try not to make the waltz minor. I can hear it drifting that way.”

You’re not trying to annoy Sherlock necessarily, but you’d be lying if you said you aren’t trying to push his buttons a little more.

He’s been cooped up in this flat with you for two weeks now. Yes, you’ve gone out occasionally, but after one instance of cameras swarming the two of you in a café, you’ve kept the outings to a bare minimum. The “case” last week was less hectic, you’re assuming because reporters didn’t want Lestrade arresting them, but it was short lived.

You’ve both become somewhat of a celebrity couple since returning from the hospital. It became known that Sherlock and his girlfriend – that’s you, even though, again, you and Sherlock still haven’t discussed labels – investigated and brought down a religious cult right here in London.

The case alone was intriguing enough for people to praise Sherlock, but throw in the fact that this seemingly emotionless human being has a romantic partner? Everyone is all over that now, and it hasn’t died down like John had hoped.

Which is why Mycroft still has security stationed at the bottom of the stairs, and eyes all on Baker Street at all times. You’re – meaning you and Sherlock – are no longer allowed to take cabs. Mycroft has a driver – his name is Ed, he’s nice – for the both of you and that is how you are supposed to get around. You think the only reason Sherlock doesn’t protest is because he knows how much of a concern your safety is – especially to him.

But still. You and Mary have been talking. Even John is a little antsy. The wedding planning is in the final stages, and the last thing really to tackle is seating and fitting for the bridesmaid dresses. Mary has her wedding dress, John has his tux, as does Sherlock, but the bridesmaids – you included as Maid of Honor – don’t. You’ve got the color, at least.

The point is, you and Mary have seen that both of your boys need to go out and work a case together. Just to get them out. And to give you two some girl time, but that’s irrelevant. You need to get them out of the house again, like they used to do.

And you’ve got a plan.

~~~

“Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin.”

You roll your eyes at Sherlock’s statement as Mary answers him. “Ah, orphan’s lot. Friends, that’s all I have. Lots of friends.”

You reach over and squeeze her hand gently, earning a small smile. Mary’s past has always been a sore subject, and one that isn’t brought up often – except by Sherlock, in moments like these.

“We should have the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48—”

“But the rehearsal’s not for another two weeks, just calm down.”

“Calm? I am calm. I’m extremely calm.”

“Sherlock, love,” you chime in, ignoring the way your brother’s eyebrows raise at your use of the word love. “I’ve never seen you more stressed. Just – take a deep breath.”

“Let’s get back to the reception, come on,” Mary suggests, ushering him over.

You nod your head, urging him to join her. You sit curled up in his chair with a book, planning to help Mary after Sherlock and John leave, but of course neither of them know they’re going to be leaving just yet.

“John’s cousin, top table?”

Sherlock scrunches his nose. “Hm. Hates you. Can’t even bear to think about you.”

“Seriously?”

“Second-class post. Cheap card. Bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp. Three attempts at licking. She’s obviously unconsciously retaining saliva.”

“Aw, let’s stick her by the bogs.”

“Oh yes.”

You watch at Mary discreetly looks over her should, clearing her throat before asking, “Who else hates me?”

And of course, Sherlock being Sherlock, he hands her a list.

“Oh great, thanks.”

You snicker at Mary’s way of dealing with family troubles, not that John cares either way. He’s been scrolling through his phone the entire time.

“‘Priceless painting nicked.’ Looks interesting.”

“Table four?” Mary continues.

“Done,” Sherlock replies quickly.

John chuckles. “‘My husband is three people.’”

“Table five?”

“Major James Sholto. Who he?”

“Oh, John’s old commanding officer. I don’t think he’s coming.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of him. You’ve always known John was in the military, but he never talks about it all that much. And he’s especially never mentioned an old commanding officer before.

“He’ll be there,” John speaks up, so he’s clearly listening.

“Well, he needs to RSVP, then,” Mary counters.

“He’ll be there,” John assures her once more, still gazing at his phone.

Sherlock looks about as confused as you feel. He’s clearly curious about this and you’re almost certain you’ll find him Googling Major Sholto later.

“‘My husband is three people.’ It’s interesting.”

You give John a strange look.

“Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin.”

“Identical triplets. One in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat,” Sherlock speaks quickly as he suddenly stands and floats (as you like to say) down to the floor. “Now, serviettes. Swan or Sydney Opera House?”

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Mary’s excitement and surprise is clearly written all over her face as Sherlock proudly displays the napkins. You even crane your neck to see.

“Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation—”

“Fibbing, love,” you call out, shaking your head.

He sighs. “I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of…”

“We’re not John, we can tell when you’re fibbing,” Mary interrupts.

“Okay, I learnt it on YouTube.”

You snicker. “That’s more like it.”

“Opera House, please,” Mary chooses, satisfied that she got the truth. “Oh, hang on, I’m buzzing.”

Your eyebrows raise slightly. That’s the first code phrase.

“Oh, hi, Beth!”

And there’s the other.

You close your book, standing and following Mary into the kitchen. Sherlock is too busy folding serviettes to notice you’ve gone, and you smack John lightly on the shoulder as you pass.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t see why not,” Mary continues the act.

You stand over by the kettle, actually putting it on because you would like some tea, which gives you a plausible excuse for being in here.

“Actually, if that’s Beth, it’s probably for me, too. Hang on.”

John walks into the kitchen a second later, giving both you and Mary a tired look.

“He knows we don’t have a friend called Beth. He’s gonna figure out that it’s code.”

“He’s YouTubing serviettes,” Mary hisses.

“He’s thorough.”

“He’s terrified!”

“Of course he’s not.”

“He is,” you mutter from the kettle, looking up to John. “He is.”

“Right, you know when you’re scared of something, you start wishing it sooner just to get it all going? That’s what he’s doing.”

“Why would he be scared that we’re getting married?”

You leave the couple to continue bickering, part of you wanting a small private moment with Sherlock while they’re occupied.

You walk over to Sherlock where he’s quickly folding, and you make him pause, your hand smoothing over his shoulder. He turns his head to look up at you, his free hand bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“Would you fold me a swan?” You ask.

“Of course,” comes his reply, and you didn’t exactly mean for him to fold it for you right then, but he does, and a few seconds later, he’s handing you a swan.

“Thank you,” you chuckle. “I love it.” You carry it gingerly over to the mantle and place it next to where he’s got something stabbed onto the wood. “What is it now, love?” Upon closer inspection you see it’s a note. “Another one?” You ask.

Sherlock barely nods and hums.

You sigh. “And how long has this one been up here?”

“Two days.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Homeless network.”

“Someone in your homeless network handed you a note with ‘I O U’ written on it? Are you joking?”

“No,” Sherlock replies. “But Mycroft has them now.”

“So, your brother knew, too,” you mutter. “Lovely.”

“Don’t be cross. It’s only out of—”

“Sherlock Holmes,” you turn around to glare at him. “If you tell me you’re trying to protect me, I’m going to throw you out that window.”

He smirks as he stands, ushering you to come over to him, which you do. He’s like a damn magnet, this man.

“No need to throw me out the window,” he murmurs, tilting your head back to look in his eyes. “I only didn’t want you to worry.”

“You realize to me it seems like you’re keeping things from me.”

“I apologize.”

“Hm,” You fight back a smile. “Not good enough.”

He hears what you’re implying, so he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. “Better?”

You nod. “Better. One more.”

He grants your wish, pressing a kiss to your lips once again, pulling your body up against his in a way that would promise something more if John and Mary weren’t in the kitchen.

But they are, so you pull away, grinning. “I forgive you.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” you shake your head. “But you are a good kisser.”

He hums again, getting interrupted by Mary practically shoving John out of the kitchen. Your older brother stumbles into the room, giving you and Sherlock a weird – but not disgusted for the first time – look.

“Uh, kettle’s just boiled.”

You nod. “I’ll go help Mary with the tea.”

Leaving Sherlock and John in the living area, you disappear into the kitchen to help Mary with tea. When you round the corner, she’s sitting at the table, sipping tea and looking through a newspaper.

“They’re talking,” you whisper. “Fingers crossed.”

After a few minutes, Mary taps you on the arm. Time to see if they ever decided on anything.

You wrap your hands around the warm mug, raising your eyebrows expectantly as Sherlock and John fumble through an explanation on where they’re heading.

“Why don’t you go with socks?” You ask.

“You’ve gotta get the right ones,” Mary adds, earning a serious nod from both men. “It’ll take a while, right?”

“Yeah, my coat…”

“In there,” you nod. You flash Sherlock a smile that he returns. “Have fun.”

“Text me if you need me.”

“Mary is going to be here with me, Sherlock. Go out and have fun. And don’t come back for a while. We need some girl time.”

“Okay. The guard is just downstairs, and Mycroft—”

“I know!” You laugh. “Now get out of here.”

Sherlock and John disappear down the stairs for what seems like the first time in absolute ages. You and Mary let out of a shared sigh of relief as the front door closes.

“Now,” Mary begins, giving you a look. “Now that he’s gone, I have to ask, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you reply, sipping your tea as you sit down on the couch. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, with all this marriage talk, I just wondered how that head of yours was dealing,” she moves to sit next to you. “Have you mentioned it to him?”

“No, God no,” you laugh. “We haven’t even talked about whether or not we’re ‘dating,’ which sounds ridiculous. The papers say I’m his girlfriend, but he and I haven’t even talked about it.”

“I think it’s safe to say he is your boyfriend.”

“It sounds so primary school when you say it like that,” you grimace.

“Well the two of you act like you’re in primary school because you haven’t talked about it!”

“Okay,” you give her a look. “I don’t mind that we haven’t talked about it.”

“You don’t want clarity?”

“Maybe?” You shrug. “And maybe when I do, I’ll ask him, but right now, I’m happy with where we are. I’m content just being with him.”

“Alright,” she pats my leg. “I can tell he makes you happy. And I think John is coming around.”

“I think so, too,” you smile. “Or I hope he is, at least.”

“No, I think he is,” Mary nods firmly. “I’ve talked with him about it and I think he sees how protective Sherlock is and he values that. John wants someone that’ll keep you safe. And Sherlock does.”

“I feel safer than I ever have when I’m with him,” you admit quietly. “I felt safe with Tony, sure, but never like this.”

“And that’s what I like to hear,” she smiles brightly. “Now, what’s for lunch?”

You sigh. “I might be able to convince the guard to let us out.”

She grins, a bit mischievously. “Let’s do it.”

#i'm too lazy to really tag #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock fanfic #Sherlock Holmes #sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #john watson #mary morstan #the sign of three #the bloody guardsman #half-sibling!reader #soft #a bit of tender romance

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gotodigitalguy · 4 years

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What is a Sales Funnel and How Does it Work?

Hun, You're Speaking Greek To Me... My wife has an extensive computer and I. T. background, and she's fairly attracted to web site design and HTML code. Before she took on the full time job of being mom, and heck, even now, your lady talks computer language that I simply don't understand. It just never clicked with me. I'd always tell her I saw it no clue to what she was talking about when she and another computer tech would get together. Well, today, here I am as an internet marketer, and of course we have lingo that we use that most people have NO CLUE about. There are even a few internet marketers that have no clue as to what certain lingo actually means. I know I didn't when first started off this internet entrepreneur path. I remember reading Mike Dillards "Magnetic Sponsoring" almost two years ago and asking average joe "What the hell is a funded proposal? " And "How do you make a sales funnel? " I had virtually no clue at all what those terms meant. Fast forward 2 years and here I sit now instructing some others on what "Funded Proposal" and "Sales Funnel" actually mean. In reality they are truly simple concepts. Let's tackle gross sales funnel first, because as we get into what a sales funnel is, it becomes apparent what a funded proposal is usually. Sales Funnel - As I Was Taught A sales funnel is typically seen with an attraction marketing system. (I've supplied a diagram here at the bottom of the article since some people are more visual learners). It all starts off with the marketing techniques you're using. That's essentially the opening of the funnel. You have your marketing resources catching people's attention and attracting them into the funnel. They enter the funnel once they fill out the form on your PERSONAL lead capture page. My partner and i say "personal" because no one is going to opt in on your business lead capture page. They want to join a standard, not a business. The lead capture page is the entrance into the funnel - when they click that "Sign In place Now" or "Enter Here" button, they enter a whole new concept in network marketing. The best part is quite possibly qualifying themselves to do it. It is their decision. You've sold them nothing, other than yourself as a leader, some mentor, and as someone that can show them how to get more leads and more cash into their business. At this point when you start marketing properly, there should be a large number of leads pouring into the sale funnel from your social networking sites (Twitter, Youtube, Facebook, etc . ), flag ads, forums, and blogs. The number of leads will be even larger if you're using Pay-Per-Click (PPC) advertising - nevertheless that's a different topic for a different time. All of these leads have clicked on an ad, seen your lead seize page, and filled out the form. What happens now? Well, they immediately start receiving e-mail messages from your auto-responder enjoy clockwork on auto-pilot. Building Your List You have probably heard over and over, the money is in your list - ones list of contacts and prospects. Or maybe "monetize your list"? Does that sound familiar? If so, your list is simply that leads that have opted into your personal lead capture page. That's it! The more leads that opt in, the bigger your list grows. I only wanted to clarify this because some people still seem confused as to what a "list" actually means. The Auto-Responder What's in the messages? Well there are different things you want to have in there. First off, a greet message greeting your leads into your site and setting the tone of what to expect in the coming days to weeks, weeks, or months (depending on the number and scheduling of your messages). There are several things you can be offering to most people via the auto-responder. Things to help build your rapport with the lead - like links to valuable options, information about you (your background or your story), who you are, and what you're all about. Essentially ways for any lead to learn more about who you are. Of course one other way to get to know your leads, and vice versa, is to actually telephone them. Crazy concept I know! If a lead includes their number on the form, give them a call! It is a great immeasurable way to build that relationship with your lead and for them to get to know you. There are a METRIC TON of entrepreneurs out there that NEVER do this. Imagine how you will stand out from the crowd just because you took 5-10 minutes to help you call a new lead. They'll love you for it! You can also include an initial boot-camp or training camp scenario as a result of messages and video links that include the training information that you may have offered on your lead capture page. This is another smart way to promote you as a leader because you're giving away your valuable information for free. Back to the auto-responders. Now, don't forget, you're not slamming them with your business right off the bat. You introduce them to that later on down the road. You use the auto-responders so that you can simply tell them about you, help build your relationship, and put in your affiliate links to your affiliate web pages that you use to market yourself. That way, when they click on the links that you offer them, and they purchase something from which site, you get a commission from that sale. This can happen many times or just once. This is how you can get paid more and more even when your leads never join you in your primary business! Remember the Funded Proposal I was hinting about? Well this is the best place to introduce it because it ties in with your affiliate links. The Funded Idea The funded proposal is a vital part to your sales funnel. A funded proposal is the process of the providing of an inexpensive but very useful product to cover the costs of your business, then introducing your actual business later on when your leads have gotten to know you. What it does is fund your business long enough with immediate sales so you can advertise more which brings you more leads, meaning you can sponsor more leads into your primary online business. If done correctly, your expenses should equal $0, or you can actually be making a profit. Examples could be sales from the affiliate links you provide in your auto-responder messages. The resources for affiliate commissions are endless. To mention a few there is Mike Dillard's Magnetic Sponsoring course and all of those products, Ann Sieg's Renegade Marketer course, Perry Marshall's Definitive Guide to Google Adwords, list builders, auto-responders, social networks, e-books, etc . The list can really end up endless. The primary reason for a funded proposal is what I've just gone over - the sales of your low-cost products to fund your business. But there are other reasons as well. 1 . When you have someone that purchases products from your affiliate marketing links or buys your e-books, you have an existing customer as well as their contact information. They are a lead! It can be much easier to introduce them to your affiliate links and products later on rather than a "cold" prospect you've not produced a relationship with. This is how the REAL money is made in network marketing! 2 . Because of the help you've already provided by way of your valuable information in the e-books, you've positioned yourself as a leader, not a salesman. You've offered them simple solution, your advice, your help, and a system. 3. The information they've already bought from you via your online links or your written material is educating & training them. If they choose to become a part of your business along with downline, they're already trained. Your work is darn near complete. 4. The biggest problem with anyone joining your network marketing business is that it can take FOREVER before they feel any sort of positive cash flow. The funded proposal eliminates this issue. Your leads and downline get into positive cashflow quickly and this eliminates burnout or dropout, instead, it encourages confidence and momentum. If you use a funded proposal system, it means positive cash flow for you, endless leads for you, and then a monetary source for more advertising, and even more leads. This is the system that the top income earners are using. They may not be selling their biz opportunity upfront. They sell and promote everything BUT their primary business. The financed proposal drops money into their business and attracts more network marketers to them. Attraction Marketing! Back to the Sales Route Up to this point your leads are getting the e-mails from your auto-responder. They are learning valuable information, techniques, strategies, and even what it takes to become successful in this industry. They're also learning some information about you and the leader that you are. But, We one thing I always do is provide more of who I am. More of me so that my leads not to mention prospects get a better idea of who I am. I simply compose one message and add it into my auto-responder to send out to my leads. That message contains all of the links to my social networking sites - your blog, Face Book, Twitter, YouTube, MySpace, Better Networker. com, etc . All of those sites contain videos, photos, options, thoughts, tips, and strategies that I give away for free. This way, whatever I post in those sites, my potential customers can get updates about me instantly. Plus they get to look at what I'm up to at any given point and also realize that I'm just a regular Joe. I'm not doing anything special. I just figured out the method to get this to figure for me, so I teach others how to do it as well. Pay it forward! The leads that have made it this very far into the sales funnel are highly qualified leads. They've gone to my lead capture page, they've received a messages via the auto responder, and I've talked with them personally over the phone. They're attending the training phones or webinars. Some leads I even get to meet locally or at conferences. They've visited my web site, seen my profiles on Twitter or Face Book, and subscribed to my newsletters. I've been building a connection with them all. When a lead has made it this far, they are very qualified! The next step is the end of the sales route - the introduction of my primary business. This is where you hope to drive ALL of your leads to. It do not ever happens because some leads fall out of the funnel along the way. And that's o. k.! Fall out will happen no matter what sales funnel process you're using. But the ones that make it this far are introduced to my primary business. They are introduced because of several different avenues. First is through my auto-responder messages. A message containing the links to my primary internet business lead capture page is sent out and introduces the lead to what I do. Another route is through our blog site or Facebook. I simply send them a message when the timing is right, or they click on my the flag ads, or they are directed there by a message I leave, or they attend a training webinar and are unveiled that way. When I've done a good enough job with providing training for my leads and built this relationship with them, they will join my business because they see what I and my business can bring them. Truly, That's it! A sales funnel explained from top to bottom.

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