Bite Sized Bits of Fic

Any, Any, 7-Eleven? Wait, (you're/they're/its) seven hundred and eleven YEARS?

From:

profshallowness.livejournal.com

I lie back stunned, and not for the first time since Erish led me to his cabin. But this time it's because of the words that have come out of his mouth, not because of other things he may have done with it.

"Well, you've learned a lot over all those centuries," I say weakly. Yes, that's the first thing I say after, "Wait, you're seven hundred and eleven years old!?"

In my defence, I thought the age difference was the other way around and I’d guessed that Erish wasn't that much younger than me. Wrong, Livia. So very wrong.

He shifts so I can't help but look into his eyes. It was trying to determine precisely what colour those eyes were that got me here.

"Our years aren't like Earth years," he says.

Instead of letting myself drown in those gorgeous alien eyes again, I think about the understanding you'd acquire over all those years, of how he's just shown respect for Earth culture. I then start wondering what historical events took place back on my dirtball seven hundred and eleven years ago. We certainly weren’t in space back then. Didn’t most people believe the sun revolved around the Earth seven centuries ago?

"Hey," he says, nudging me. "Stop spiralling, Livia. It really isn't the same. By Jaylonian reckoning, I'm a sprig."

I can't help it, I look down at a certain anatomical part of his body, not that dissimilar to the human equivalent, and I smirk. I wouldn't call him a sprig.

He's grinning.

"Ah, made you smile, made you look." he murmurs, before bending his head down and nuzzling me. “Now we could work out how old I am in your years, or…”

I make a ‘hmm’ noise that is more an expression of pleasure than anything. I can’t help it.

"It's just a number," he says, his hand skimming my hip, and just that sensation feels wonderful, but I know he can give me so much more pleasure. "It doesn't matter."

I give in and reach for him. We work it out later. He’s still older than me, but it’s not that bad. We decide to shrug it off, but apparently the number of orgasms you and your partner enjoy do count in Erish's culture. I appreciate their way of thinking.

From:

nice!

From:

profshallowness.livejournal.com

Thanks!

From:

Flash, Barry Allen +/ Any, 7:11 AM is Barry's wake up call. Whether he likes it or not there is no sleeping through that

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Hannibal, Any +/ Hannibal Lecter, stopping at a 7-Eleven on the way to a crime scene

From:

swan-secrets.livejournal.com

Doctor Who, Seven + Eleven, The seventh and eleventh Doctors meet.

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Any, Any, the score is 11-7 with five minutes to go

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Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard +/ Rodney McKay, frequent bathroom stops on a road trip because of Rodney's Big Gulp addiction

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Marvel Cinematic Universe, Bucky Barnes +/ Steve Rogers, playing back-alley craps games as a kid to get money for food

From:

shanachie-quill.livejournal.com

Author’s Note: I have never played craps, nor do I know anything about it. (Other than what google tells me!)

Bucky recognized the voice coming from the alley before he even got close enough to see. Picking up his pace, he turned into the alley and a sight he was fully expecting.

Steve was facing off against two men that towered above him. At their feet was a small pile of money, two dice, and half a cardboard box.

As he drew nearer, Bucky could make out Steve yelling something about a seven and winning.

The two men noticed him before Steve did, cutting off their words to glare at him.

Bucky glared right back, flexing some of the new muscle he’d gained from working at the docks. The two men might be older, but slighter than Bucky. “Beat it,” he growled when Steve finally noticed him and fell silent.

“He cheated!” the taller man protested.

“That’s a lie!” Steve exclaimed.

Bucky wanted to roll his eyes at these two meatheads thinking Steve would cheat. Instead he scooped up the dice, balancing them in his hand. It only took him a minute to figure out what had happened. “More likely you couldn’t believe he won with these dice.” Tossing them at the men, he repeated his earlier command, “Beat it.” When the smaller man bent to scoop up the money, he added, “And leave his winnings.”

The men appeared to consider his order for a minute before grabbing the dice and box and swiftly leaving the alley.

“I could have handled that,” Steve grumbled as Bucky bent to gather his winnings.

“But isn’t it nice when you don’t have to?” Bucky grinned. “Besides this way you don’t have to explain it to our Mas.” He held up the handful of money. “And we can buy dinner.”

From:

Aww! Bucky to the rescue! ::grins:: This is really sweet, thank you!

From:

shanachie-quill.livejournal.com

Of course! Thanks!

I feel like no matter what everyone says... Steve dragged Bucky into trouble... not the other way around.

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Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, a case that kicks off at 7am and gets wrapped up at 11pm

From:

Any, any m/m, the seventh son of a seventh son

From:

“That’s it?” Rodney asked.

Lorne shrugged. “Yeah.”

“But - you’re the seventh son of a seventh son.”

“And I have magical power.”

Rodney spluttered, gestured wildly. “But that power is useless.”

Lorne shrugged again. “Yeah.”

“I mean - what’s the point in automatically knowing what someone’s favorite color is the first time you meet them?” Rodney had been so excited to meet him, the famed seventh son of a seventh son, and what he got was - Major Lorne.

Wearing a dull military uniform, eating the tasteless military chow, jaded to offworld travel and possessing a singularly unimpressive power.

And then Lorne was escorting him offworld because John was back on Earth getting his final certifications related to his below-the-zone promotion and Rodney made the mistake of smiling at the Chieftain’s daughter and despite Teyla and Lorne’s collective fast-talking to save him from a shotgun alien wedding, Rodney was doomed to marital misery.

“Unless,” the Chieftain said, spilling the contents of a box of jewels across the table between them, “you can select the one that is my very favorite color.”

Teyla’s expression was worryingly blank.

Lorne reached out, shuffled the jewels so they were all lying flat, so he could get a good look at them. Then he selected one that was a color Rodney had never seen before, orange that shimmered blue in the light. He pushed it across the table to the Chieftain.

The Chieftain stared at it, expression thunderous.

“Papa,” said the alien princess, who really looked about as enthusiastic about the marriage as Rodney felt, “it is your favorite.”

“Fine,” the Chieftain snapped. He signalled to his guards, and they set Rodney free.

Back on Atlantis, Rodney tracked Lorne down. “So, that magical power of yours. Finally useful.”

Lorne, who was in his quarters relaxing with his feet kicked up on his desk, nodded. “Finally. I’d tell my mother, because she’d be pleased, but - classified.” He shrugged, smiled. He was drawing something on a sketchpad.

He had an array of colored pastels laid out on the desk beside him, and for a moment they reminded Rodney of the array of jewels the Chieftain had put out.

“What are you drawing?” Rodney asked. If Lorne was good at drawing, he might be useful for creating models and diagrams, since that was faster sometimes than trying to program a 3D rendering of something.

Lorne tilted his sketchpad so Rodney could see - a portrait of himself.

“Why are you drawing me?”

“Because you’re beautiful.” Lorne selected a blue pastel, continued sketching.

Literally no one had ever said to Rodney before. He eyed Lorne, wary. “What’s the catch?”

Lorne glanced up, studied him. “There’s no catch. I just think you’re beautiful.”

“So you don’t want to have sex with me or anything?”

“If you’re offering,” Lorne said. “But you’re hardly obligated to sleep with someone just because they think you’re attractive. While I’m not opposed to a one-night stand, I typically think that there should be more to a relationship than mere physical attraction.

Rodney raised his eyebrows. “You’d want a relationship with me?”

Edited Date: 2018-07-11 10:16 pm (UTC)

From:

“Why not? You’re intelligent and confident, hard-working, passionate about what you do.” Lorne smiled at him.

Most people would call Rodney arrogant, obsessive, and loud. He eyed Lorne dubiously. “No one ever says things like that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” Lorne said, and studied Rodney some more, still drawing.

Something tightened in Rodney’s chest. “I guess some people have been attracted to my intellect or my blue eyes, but - not that I’ve never had relationships with people - it’s just -”

“Rodney,” Lorne said. “It’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“You being handsome and attractive and desirable is okay,” Lorne said.

“Of course it is,” Rodney said. “I’m a catch.”

“I don’t disagree.”

That tight feeling still didn’t go away. “It’s just - I’m pretty sure no one’s ever liked me like you have.”

Lorne put a piece of paper over his drawing before he closed his sketchpad and set it aside. He sat up straight, looked Rodney in the eye. “Take some time, think about whether you’re really interested in a relationship with me or whether you just like the notion that I like you. I’m not interested in a pity-fuck on either of our parts.”

Rodney spluttered, indignant. “Pity fuck?”

“I don’t want you to sleep with me out of pity because I have a crush on you, or whatever the kids call it these days,” Lorne said. “We’re both adults and capable of informed consent. So - think about it.”

He started to say more, then tilted his head down, pressing one hand to his radio.

“Sorry, Doc. Duty calls.” Lorne rose, crossed his room, clapped Rodney on the shoulder, and left.

Rodney remained standing in Lorne’s quarters for far too long, thinking.

A week later, he caught up with Lorne, sat down opposite him in the mess hall.

“What’s up, Doc?” Lorne asked, and chuckled at his own stupid joke.

“What’s your favorite color?” Rodney asked.

Lorne’s eyebrows went up. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“I’m asking now.”

“Well,” Lorne said, leaning in, “I promise this isn’t a line, but my favorite color is the color of your eyes.”

Hours later, after an enthusiastic tumble in Evan’s bed, Rodney said, “What’s my favorite color?”

Evan said, “The blue of an active stargate.”

From:

Loooove this! Lorne is so matter-of-fact about his feelings (a far cry from John, LOL!) and I love that he's very upfront in his appreciation of Rodney.

Super love that Lorne's favorite color is Rodney's eyes, and Rodney's is the Stargate, which is perfect!

Thank you so much for this!!

From:

You are so welcome! I researched some stuff about seventh sons, and it seemed so epic and grandiose and...I went for something else entirely. I feel like Evan is good at being cagey when it comes to military politics but tries not to be with his emotions.

From:

sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com

So I'm busy looking back in time to see if I've missed cataloging any of my prompts and WHAT DO I FIND but some lovely, lovely McLorne. Ugh. This is so great. I love McLorne SO. MUCH.

You are amazing! :D

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Thank you so much! Couldn't resist some cuteness for the boys who, let's be real, don't get a lot of cuteness from me very often.

From:

swan-secrets.livejournal.com

Any, Any scientist/geek/nerd type character, They score 7/11 on a test

Edited Date: 2018-07-11 02:41 pm (UTC)

From:

creepy_shetan

author's choice, anyone or group, going to 7-Eleven so often that the cashiers recognize/know them

From:

creepy_shetan

Final Fantasy VII, Tifa Lockhart + any, eleven o'clock at Seventh Heaven

From:

creepy_shetan

any Japanese fandom, any, the wonders that can be found at 7-Eleven (or any konbini, really)

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Stargat Atlantis, Any +/ Any, boyband AU where they do a hidden camera show undercover at a 7-11

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helsinkibaby.livejournal.com

Any, any m/f, they get locked overnight inside a 7-11. (Absolutely inspired by the Dawson's Creek season 6 ep, "castaways"!)

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evil-little-dog.livejournal.com

Any, M/F, 7-11 flowers for an anniversary present

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evil-little-dog.livejournal.com

The X-Files, Fox Mulder+/Dana Scully, something weird happens here on July eleventh every year

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evil-little-dog.livejournal.com

Frasier, Frasier Crane + Niles Crane (plus any other if you want), Their car breaks down and the only shelter is a 7-11. (The horrors!)

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True blood, Jason Stackhouse /Eric northman, eric promised to not eat Jason's friends nver said he could not eat the night clark at 711

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One direction rpf, girl zayn mailk /Harry styles, from a long night of hooking up and dancing they have the munchies so 711 is the only thing open

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Call me by your name rpf, armie hammer /Timothée Chalamet, 7th phone call in 11 hours

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One direction rpf, zayn mailk /Harry styles, 7, 11 pm call

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