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moumouton4 · 1 year

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Hit The Jackpot || Dabi x villain!fem!reader

Part 2 : The Spark That Lights The Fire

A/n : Please let me know if there is any mistakes or thing that can be improved. Again I'm french so English isn't my first language 🍍🌷 Also my requests are open as always so let me know if you have any ideas 🍭

Part 1 : First Encounter 🔥

Part 3 : Welcome Back 🔥

Masterlist ⚜

Warning : None but a lot of fire at some point so be aware of that if you have any issue with it

Summary : The league goes on a mission but an event makes Dabi realize his feelings for you

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Words count : 2374

More than six months had passed since you joined - got kidnapped - by the League of Villains. You had acclimated quite well. Becoming fast friends with Toga and Twice. Earning the respect of your comrades and your leader by being very useful during missions

Your specialty, suicide missions. Why ? Because it was fun, it gave you a lot of adrenaline. Though you were always careful not to reveal all the quirks you had acquired just in case you found yourself in a tricky situation

Today was a big day, Shigaraki announced to the league that he needed something that was in a highly guarded place, but he wouldn't say where or he wouldn't tell you specially where. Maybe he didn't trust you completely yet

You were paired with Twice, Toga was with Dabi, Skinner with Mr. Compress and it was said that Shigaraki would stay back during this mission to a sort of backup - that's what they were told though

At the end of your meeting, as everyone was leaving, you stood up too but Shigaraki called out to you "Y/n you stay here, Twice too"

Dabi looked at you with a puzzled expression before leaving the room. You had come closer, but it was still Dabi we were talking about, so it meant that he tolerated you closer to him. And that he looked out for you a little during the toughest fights, though he would never admit it. Sometimes, at night, when he was sitting on top of a roof, watching the bustle of the city below him, you would join him and he would let you stay by his side, unlike the others he would have sent to hell. Even if you didn't talk to each other the atmosphere was not heavy, it just felt right

Anyway, Shigaraki explained you a part of the plan that he had not explained to the others, because he wanted to keep it secret. If the allies didn't know the secret weapon aka you, how would the enemies guess it. The victory would be overwhelming

You and Twice left the room a few minutes later, before joining Toga who was sharpening her knives. "Hey Y/n/n" she called out to you

You turned your head towards her about to answer but she was quicker than you and handed you a knife "I stole this for you earlier, I upgraded it so it suits you and now it's yours" she was still smiling at you

You had tears in your eyes as you took the knife out of its sheath. It was very sharp and the blade had a beautiful F/c sheen to it and then it was quite long for a pocket knife. You jumped into her arms giving her a big hug "Thanks Himiko ! This will do a lot of damage !" you said starry-eyed

"Yes I know" she said in a high pitched voice "It's going to be a blood bath !" she laughed

Dabi looked at you both - no he was looking at you - arms crossed from a corner of the room. He was hoping to see more of you on this mission. The others had been much more chill you didn't need to be at 100% of your abilities and today was the opportunity to know your true potential - he was sure of it

…

The tension was at its peak, you were all hidden… in fact… it had gone a little wrong… in short the heroes had showed up and you were reduced to hiding. The site worked in your favor, as the abandoned shopping mall you were in offered plenty of hiding places to ambush your enemies

As usual you were excited about the action. You then looked at Twice out of the corner of your eye and saw that he was looking at you too, he knew that at some point he'll have to do the special secret attack Shigaraki told you both about earlier and even though he trusted you he didn't want to do it for fear of hurting you or worse

Dabi watched this exchange of looks with a frown, he felt something inside him rise up that bothered him in every way and he had no idea what was happening to him- "You like her don't you ?" a voice was heard next to him

He growled as he looked at his teammate "Mind your business shit-stirrer-" he wanted to shut her up

"I look at the people I love the same way… Ochako-chan, Izuku-kun-" she was cut off by his roaring voice but he still had to be quiet

"I told you to shut the fuck up you fucking-" he stopped as one of the heroes entered his field of vision. He quickly looked in your direction to make sure you were safe, but he saw you retreat from your hiding place and take to the heights, followed by Twice who was mentally preparing for what was to come

As the two of you continued to move forward, your teammates didn't quite understand what was happening. Meanwhile, the heroes began to move in on the perimeter of the mall's ground floor.

All the villains looked at each other "What do we do now ?" Skinner asked.

But as Dabi raised his hand in the air to attack them - which wouldn't kill them all on the spot like he wanted - he felt Toga tug on his jacket. He whipped his head towards her "Don't touch-"

"Hey look !" she whispered yelled at him, pointing to the top floors of the mall

You were reflecting the sunlight off the blade of your knife - the one she had given you - to signal something apparently. Several dozen meters from the ground you signaled them to be quiet and not to move. They made big gestures towards you but stopped when they saw Twice coming behind you

In his hand he was holding a can - which looked like a gas can - before he spilled it on you. Toga's eyes went wide - and Dabi's too. You approached the edge where one of the railings was broken and leaned in slightly to see what was happening underneath

You took a deep breath and threw a stone, so as to attract the attention of the heroes who had come to prevent you from carrying out your mission. You clenched your fists as you saw them approaching the spot where the stone had landed. You concentrated hard, the quirks you wanted to use today hadn't been used in a long time - not even since you joined the lov

Twice reached into his pocket and fished out a box of matches - the one Shigaraki had given him - of course he had found a way to know that you had these quirks. He cracked it and it burst into flames

At the same time, Dabi's eyes widened even more, he wanted to do something but it was too late. You jumped off the edge of the floor and while you were doing a flip Twice threw the match at you and you burst into flames. As you fell you couldn't see Dabi raise his hand to you from afar as if he wanted to catch you but you kept falling. No one saw as they were busy watching you attack the heroes

The heroes all looked above them because of the light emanating from the fire around you but before they could do anything you landed on the ground. And the moment you touched it you released all your power

A wave, no a tidal wave of fire, swept over them, the heat rising high and killing them all without any chance of survival. Your fellow lov's were stunned by what you just did and Dabi was ready to kill Twice

But as the temperature returned to normal and the dust settled you could be seen at the bottom - in an almost ironic superhero pose - fist and knee resting on the cracked ground around you from the force of the impact of the landing, your cheeks covered in soot, your clothes partially burned and your crazy hair

Twice's voice breaks the macabre silence "Y/n are you okay ? Are you okay ?"

He was more than satisfied with the answer you gave him, you let out a high-pitched cry of joy "Wow that was amazing ! And there is no one left ! It's over ! We did it !"

"We did it !" Toga joined you before jumping from the second floor where she and the others were hiding "You were so badass- aaah shit !" she screamed as she tried to hug you but got burned when she touched you. Your body was still burning

The others arrived, Dabi in the background and when Twice arrived he had to restrain himself from burning him or at least putting a good punch in his face. He clenched his jaw and looked at him deeply as if he was about to kill him. He restrained himself as much as possible and took a very threatening step in his direction Twice jumped back before hurrying towards you and Toga

"Everyone turned in his direction and began to make their way out of the dilapidated and now charred building

The same could not be said for you, as you took a step and fell back to the ground, your energies drained by your previous attack

Skinner turned and ran to you to help you up but also got burned when he tried to touch your arm "I'm sorry but you're burning"

Dabi, who was leading the way, closed his eyes and took a deep breath that was as quiet as possible. He turned around and came back to you "Keep going" he told the others

He walked to you "Can you stand up ?" he said in a cold voice - a voice he never used with you. He didn't give you time to answer as he bent down to you and put an arm around your waist before pulling you to his side, you put a left arm around him to help you walk

Of course he didn't mind the heat, he didn't mind helping you either, the problem was that he thought you were going to die and that made him realize something he always despised about others and feared for himself

It felt strange to feel him so close and at the same time so far away. You tried to meet his eyes by looking in his direction but he didn't let anything show on the outside except anger

"Dabi ?" you tried your luck but he didn't answer "Dabi ?" you insisted again but he didn't and it was starting to annoy you "I swear if you don't intend on answering me leave me here instead I'm sure I'd be much better off"

"Leave you here ?" he replied in a tone brimming with venom "Let me laugh, first try to walk without my help before trying to be witty"

Exasperated you shot him a glare before wiggling out of his grasp. You almost fell but he got you on time "Why being so mean ! I just saved our asses ?!?"

"Don't remember asking you to do fuckin' anythin' for me"

"You're an asshole !" if you weren't this badass you would have teared up but you were strong and kept talking "Your body would NOT have supported so much heat ! I did what was right for the league !"

"Whatever" he scoffed, he know you were right

"You know" you started "I thought we had some consideration for each other after all. I'm disappointed that I was so wrong"

Even though he didn't want to let it show, he felt sorry for you. He never hated you heck he doesn't think he would ever hate you for anything. But he got really scared back then and he doesn't know how to tell you nor if he really wants to

"So that's why Shigaraki called you back into his office earlier. It was to put your little plan in place… it won't work all the time like this"

"Why are you still complaining ?"

Your remark probably didn't appeal to him because he suddenly snapped at you "Don't you understand ?!? I thought you had sacrificed yourself for us that you desperately let yourself be set on fire so that we wouldn't get caught by those damn heroes !"

You looked at him deeply, your mouth opening and closing like a fish, you didn't have the words your habits have never been a problem in your life and yet this seemed to be one for him

"Do you care… for me ?"

"I just say you're reckless and that one day you're going to pay the price" he replied more calmly now

This seemed to calm you down and you put your left arm back around him to support you as you both walked out of the mall. And you decided to speak again while you were away from the others "In that case I think you're rekless too"

You thought he was going to ignore you but you felt his arm tighten on your waist, his long fingers squeezing your side as if to let you know that he understood you and reciprocated your feelings

You brought your right hand up to where he was holding you firmly to catch his fingertips. For the moment you would be satisfied with that, after all there were people around you and you knew that you would see him again very soon alone on the roof of the HQ as usual. But who knows, maybe this time you'll have a chat with him

Once you had joined the others you couldn't help but see Toga's mischievous smile before your attention was drawn to Shigaraki's voice congratulating you all for having successfully completed your mission

At least you assume so, because your vision darkened and the only thing you were aware of was the screams of your comrades and Dabi's grip closing in on your waist

A/n : I'm wondering if I should do a third part because yeah we are still alive 🎉 I hope you guys liked it ! 🧵🧶 Again my requests are open 🧩🧸

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl

#my hero academia #mha #mha fics #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha fics #dabi mha #dabi bnha #dabi #dabi fluff #dabi x reader #dabi x reader fluff #league of villains #league of villains x reader #toya todoroki #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #miri-writes

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deadcactuswalking · 2 months

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 02/03/2024 (SZA, Central Cee, Pozer)

Beyoncé may have the #1 for a second week with “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” but the real winners on this UK Singles Chart are songs benefiting from songs above them plundering, partly thanks to everyone’s favourite arbitrary rule, Accelerated Chart Ratio (ACR). I am never explaining that rule, look it up, but you’d think maybe we’d get a surge of new songs, right? No, it’s a pretty minimal week, and I’m not complaining. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with our notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 - which is what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40, and we have… unless I’m missing something, surprisingly little of note here? We bid farewell to “BACK TO ME” by Hitler, Goebbels and an uncredited Freddie Gibbs, “Ophelia” by The Lumineers, “Toxic” by Songer (thank God), “Sprinter” by Dave and Central Cee and of course, Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved” but that’ll be back soon enough.

Okay, so as for returns, we just get Ye’s “Runaway” featuring Pusha T back at #48, but our notable gains are where this week gets actually interesting, because we actually have quite a few, particularly in the top 40, thanks to ACR as mentioned but also potentially some TikTok-related industry politics that probably act in parallel with each other, but we start with “Thank You (Not So Bad)” by way too many brain cells at #68, “Soaked” by Shy Smith at #51, “vampire” by Olivia Rodrigo at #44 and “Evergreen” by Richy Mitch & the Coal Miners at #41. Then the top 40, where all Hell breaks loose, though most of these songs are actually pretty good: “Birds in the Sky” by NewEra at #40, “Made for Me” by Muni Long at #37, “Never be Alone” by Becky Hill and Sonny Fodera at #35, “Whatever She Wants” by Bryson Tiller of all people at #31 (and yes, I think I get it now), “On My Love” by Zara Larsson and David Guetta at #28, “Scared to Start” by Michael Marcagi at #22, “Nothing Matters” by The Last Dinner Party at #16, “Lovers in a Past Life” by Calvin Harris and Rag’n’Bone Man at #13, and finally - unfortunately - we have “CARNIVAL” by Adolf Hitler and Ty Dolla $ign featuring Playboi Carti at #9. Yes, it’s Rich the Kid’s first top 10 hit and no, you should not care.

Our top five should sound pretty normal, apart from a new entry into the top 10 at #5 as Djo gets his first with “End of Beginning”. I guess Steve Lacy can be a one-hit wonder twice. Aside from that, well, it’s all pretty expected: “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan at #4, “Beautiful Things” by Benson Boone at #3, “Lose Control” by Teddy Swims at #2 and Bey at #1. I like how this top five is a herd of angsty indie rock-adjacent white dudes led by the queen of the hive.

NEW ARRIVALS

#61 - “Love On” - Selena Gomez

Produced by The Monsters & Strangerz and Isaiah Tejada

Man, one of the few times that a mainstream artist releases a well-received and popular album that I think is absolutely brilliant, if not perfect, and none of it charts in the top 75. I’m not revealing who that is, if you know, you know. No worries, guys, we have Selena Gomez instead! God… to be honest, I like to give Selena the benefit of the doubt more than often, and I actually really like this song for its quirks as I’ll discuss later, but it’s pretty funny that this song starts with the French language only for all of that effortlessly seductive aura to be replaced with “Wait ‘til I get my love on”. What? In fact, this song is incredibly clunky in its sexiness or lack thereof, and if you think it’s to fit an already constructed rhyme or construction… why does it sound this awkward and almost improvised? “Screaming yes in quotations”, “night shift but with all the perks” (or Percs?), “why are we conversating over this steak tartare”? Yes, Julia Michaels, I knew you wrote this song before I checked the credits, you didn’t need to make it too obvious. Now I actually love this song, it’s so artfully stupid in execution: Selena sounds Auto-Tuned to Hell as always but it doesn’t grant her any rhythm with that robotic hook slipping over itself, as if the verses don’t embarrass her enough: Isaiah, listen, why leave her only with the clipping bassline and add all those accentuative vocal effects? It’s almost cruelty. She doesn’t even sound like herself on the strained falsetto pre-chorus, especially not those backing vocals which you could easily convince me are Toro y Moi of all people, and the chorus promising that you should just wait until she has her love on before she loves on you, which is… what? Asexuals could write better songs about intimacy, but in all its goofiness, the song ends up winning me over on pure silliness. The production has a straightforward groove but a lovely disco swell to the strings, detailed vocal layering and those phased synths acting as stabs that make Selena’s rhythmic bruising in the chorus sound almost normal are the icing on top. This is an adorable little failure of a song, I kind of admire it. Push it in the same category as “Feather” by Sabrina Carpenter in being loveable nu-disco messes.

#49 - “Showtime” - Catfish and the Bottlemen

Produced by Dave Sardy and Ryan McCann

It’s been a five-year hiatus, but indie rock band Catfish and the Bottlemen are back to music, though with some departures and line-up changes, and oddly enough, all of that ties into the fittingly titled comeback single, “Showtime”. Yes, this song is about the strains of touring and life on the road as part of a band, but how that’s all ultimately worth it for how gratifying it is to make an impact on listeners and be performing to audiences, as well as being with the band members he loves to record and perform with. I love the breakneck pace of the bass and post-punk rhythm of the verses and pre-choruses with that soaring guitar lick, and I think that the lead singer Mr. McCann (of no relation to that one) has a solid control of his distorted nasal tone until that disappointing chorus comes in which doesn’t feel nearly as ambitious or arena-ready as it wants to be, mostly because McCann is mumbling and it halts the momentum of the entire song. Also, it starts really shoddy lyrically, it’s hard to sound profound when half of your chorus is moaning “fuck that shit, get on this”. It does end up contextualising itself better on repetitions, mostly because of the warm finger-snaps in the bridge that eventually evolve into a heartland rolick that gives the final chorus space to breathe in a muddy mix… then seems to never fully get its power back, replacing it with a gross basic synth that parades around a befuddled Bottlemen, until eventually the song is just a lo-fi piano recording that doesn’t feel like it’s entirely warranted its inclusion, though it wraps up the narrative nicely as he comes back home after touring. I really like the sentiment of this song and parts of what it’s going for but the chorus, which really makes or break an anthemic song like this, just loses me, which is really disappointing as the rest of the song focuses entirely on building up to it. I’m sure it’ll be a killer live, but that’s also with the caveat that when performing live, they can mess with the structure, the lyrics and the performance, as well as most importantly for this one, the mix… so I don’t think this song will ever sound as good on record as it could do at a festival, which considering the song’s content, is kind of beautiful.

#29 - “Kitchen Stove” - Pozer

Produced by Young Madz

It’s pretty weird that this is not the first time in recent memory that I’ve never heard of the lead rapper on a track but have seen a dozen or so credits for his producer. Unlike Rich Amiri, this is far from rage however, it’s a drill track, of course, with Young Madz being a New York producer who’s worked with Fivio Foreign, the 41 collective and sadly, Lil Mabu, as well as having produced a previously charting track from Russ Millions. Pozer, on the other hand, has no other songs, with this being a breakout track on TikTok as well as his debut single… that’s being distributed by Sony. Yeah, slick one there. To fully understand this, we need to look back two years for another fluke viral hit, “snowfall” by Øneheart and reidenshi, a Russian space ambient track with over 500 million streams on Spotify - yes, really. It debuted nearly exactly a year after release and eventually peaked at #57 in 2023 whilst Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers” was #1. Øneheart’s follow-up was another ambient track, “this feeling”, which is not nearly as successful and also not as good, mostly because it lacks as sticky of a lead as “snowfall” and falls more into a vaporwave-esque filter of hopelessness which resonates a bit less. It does sound ripe for sampling though, especially that tiny vocal lead at the tail-end, so I guess it makes sense that for a manufactured viral hit, Madz took a sped-up version of the Russian ambient song and put it over some of the most rote, typical Jersey drill percussion possible. He doesn’t do much chopping, mostly because you don’t need to - like I said, that vocal sample would be perfect under Jersey drill, and Madz had the exact same idea, I suppose. Pozer, despite the name, isn’t exactly a bad rapper, his flow is pretty typical but solid and his second verse goes into more introspective and paranoid territory, pretty befitting of the haunting production… my problem is his delivery and the way he’s mixed: he just sounds too obvious. For production as potentially eerie as this, the production needs to be way more textured and dynamic, and Pozer himself needs to be quieter in the mix - as do the bed squeaks. This feels like a perfect lay-up of an idea that would make both a great song and an easy hit just fumbled in execution. It’s still a functional song for sure, but it doesn’t hit the way it absolutely could have.

#18 - “I Will” - Central Cee

Produced by John Alexis and LIOHN

Cench has another single out as he seems to drip-feed these - if he keeps them all on the record, that debut studio album will be more like a greatest hits compilation. As for this new one… first of all, I need this guy to step away from women: he’s awkward, condescending, and has strange fixations on this girl’s mother, how “young” she makes her feel, as well as just the extents of the capabilities of his penis… as well as a song-long hyperfixation on her shaving her privates. Over an Ed Sheeran-sounding beat? The acoustic guitars don’t mesh with the distant vocal loops, his vocal mix sounds horrifically unprofessional as does his complete lack of melodic understanding or personality when trying to sing on the chorus. You’d think he’d try and pick up the rapping to make up for it but he sounds half-dead. Speaking of Ed Sheeran, even he raps better than this - and yes, that includes about sex and relationships. There’s so little in the beat to distract from Cench’s terrible performance and content, so this is just an embarrassing display of everything that he cannot do properly. The second top comment on Genius, so you know, the fans, is asking what the Hell this is, and I can’t say I disagree with the fans in this case. I know you love Drake, it doesn’t mean you have to be him.

#15 - “Saturn” - SZA

Produced by Carter Lang, Rob Bisel, Solomonophonic and Monsune

SZA’s finally released a highly-anticipated song she performed at the GRAMMYs that may be connected to some form of SOS reissue and… oh, this interpolates one of my absolute favourite albums of all time. The opening track to Canadian composer Mort Garson’s peaceful, dynamic and forward-thinking 1976 electronic album Mother Earth’s Plantasia may not be iconic to everyone, but I still get goosebumps listening to it and that’s even outside of its greater context where this is the opening suite to a themed, arguably conceptual record acting as a love letter to two different pets of the musician: the myriad of plants his wife grew in the home, and his admired Moog synthesizer that he composed the entire album on. Sadly, Garson passed in 2008, before the record could gain its underground cult following amongst music fans, and before its official reissue in 2019 which particularly benefits the opening track, which has since been used in advertisements and now ends up interpolated on SZA’s new single, which released as a surprise to her fans and feels like a pretty spiritual return to some of the sounds explored on CTRL, using the sprinkling nostalgic synths of “Plantasia” as a backing for her lamenting of how dull and monotonous life on Earth can be. It’s actually fascinating to use that sample considering how celebratory I’ve always seen Garson’s album of both the natural world and human influence or appreciation of it, but definitely not a bad one as Lang, Bisel and co. add their own cascading synths to the dejected drum mix and warm guitars that flow this song swiftly into psychedelic territory, especially on the gorgeously harmonic chorus. My favourite moment may be the pre-chorus though, where SZA’s vocal layering filters into the static of both itself and the incessant hi-hat wearing itself out over time. It’s pure escapism for sure, much like a lot of this week, really, but it’s damn effective escapism, pulling you into this forest that, despite my general issue with fade-outs, makes sense to drift out of existence. The song’s about wanting to live on Saturn, I can just imagine that as the song fades out, we pan away from SZA and the camera focuses on the scarce night sky peppered with stars. If a song ever justifies its cop-out ending, then it’s doing something really right.

Conclusion

Yeah, the girlies really won this episode, didn’t they? SZA takes Best of the Week away easily with “Saturn” but “Love On” by Selena Gomez does take the Honourable Mention. As for the Dishonourable Mention, I think Pozer just frustrates me with “Kitchen Stove” whilst Central Cee handedly has the Worst of the Week because Jesus Christ, “I Will” is almost irredeemable on pretty much all fronts. As for what’s new on the horizon in the coming weeks, I’m unsure, but it will be interesting what new stuff arises as a result of the ACR clearout this week. For now, thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next week!

#uk singles chart #pop music #song review #sza #mort garson #central cee #catfish and the bottlemen #pozer #oneheart #selena gomez

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moonstone-vibe · 2 months

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Fic writer (of doom) interview :))

Thank you @melodious-tear for tagging me! 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

How many works do you have on AO3? - 83 (whaaaat? :)) okay, but I started writing some 15 years ago)

What’s your total AO3 word count? - 1,462,003. Like I said. And to quote that meme, 'some may be good, some may be shit'

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? - 1. Age of Astaroth (Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist), 2. You don't need a (fucking) quirk (僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia), 3. Are we still playing (Haikyuu!!) , 4. Compensation (Haikyuu!!), 5. Reactive (Hetalia: Axis Powers)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? - ALWAYS!!! And I also put lots of hearts and bunnies and whatnot, for mysterious reasons. But seriously, I love comments, and not just positive feedback. It means my work has caused a reaction with the reader, stirred some emotion. I'm always grateful.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? - hmm, I guess the angstiest would be Resentful (陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù) , but Bai Lin's lament (琉璃 | Love and Redemption (TV)) is quite sad too. But usually I avoid angsty/sad/unhappy endings and strive to give my characters at least some silver lining if not a fully happy ending. I'm a sucker for happy endings, me.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? - The Embrace of Death and the Kiss of Life (Soul Eater). This immediately comes to mind

Do you write crossovers? - I was about to say never, but in fact I recently wrote one. For smut purposes only :)))

Have you ever received hate on a fic? - I have received the abundant pleasantries of the infamous Guest reviewers back when I was active on fanfiction.net, but those people either had a problem with the sacred guidelines or were just there to troll but never related to a fic itself. On AO3 there was the very dedicated XiYao troll, but again, they had a problem with the pairing in general rather than with my fics.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? - I wrote both het and BL, but only BL was ever fully explicit (influenced by my absolute shifu sectionladvivi/Daniel May. I'm hardly on his level though). I never wrote yuri and I wouldn't either.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? - I don't think so.

Have you ever had a fic translated? - Yeah, Rise of the Emerald Princess (Soul Eater) was translated and that person also asked me if they could write a prequel one-shot/spin off. I was beyond flattered, you guys!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? - I have, but just once. I'd like to give it a try sometime, but it's a commitment. Maybe a one-shot.

What’s your all-time favorite ship? - When it comes to ships, my muse is as faithful as an incubus, I have no control over this thing, you get the picture. So, no. Why settle on a fave anyway? :))

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? - I will strive to finish all my WIPs (I have like 2 :))) Normally when a fic is hopeless, I just delete it.

What are your writing strengths? - that sometimes I can write :)))))

What are your writing weaknesses? - that I have no control over my muse whatsoever and that includes long periods 'on the dry'

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? - it's cool as long as it's a language I have at least some vague knowledge of. Walter Essner speaking French is everything :)))

What was the first fandom you wrote for? - Inglorious Basterds

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? - nothing comes to mind right now...

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? - hmmm, can't decide between Boy in gold silk (陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)) and White man's coffin (陈情令 | The Untamed (TV))

tagging @estbela @starsmadeinheaven @doodlin-moons , @someone-you-do-not-know , @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @roseszirnheld and anyone else who might want to give it a try ;)

#me as a writer (of doom)

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zepskies · 2 years

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And So It Goes - Part 12

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job — and more importantly her life — or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

Pairing: Butcher/OFC (Latina!OC)

ASIG Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only. Smut (finally!), language, angst

12: Break It on Down

In the morning, Helena was shocked to find Butcher in her kitchen, making coffee in his pajamas.

And not just the cheap instant coffee she kept in the cupboard, but the expensive, European grounds she liked to brew in the French press. The smell was heavenly.

But him actually doing something for her was not as surprising as the fact that he was still here, in her home. After she broke down on him last night, she had expected him to be long gone by now. Allergic to emotions, as he was.

“You’re still here?” she said, unable to quell her incredulous tone. He looked up at her with a raised brow, then a smirk.

“What, am I trespassing?” he replied, with his usual snark.

“Do you even know what you’re doing there, Chef Ramsay?” She nodded at the French press. He was stirring newly poured hot water in with the grounds in the carafe. He seemed to be doing it correctly, which was yet another surprise.

“Ya know, I’m not some cave-dwelling creature,” he said defensively. “Just ‘cause I don’t buy into this fancy bullshit doesn’t mean I can’t work it out.”

He then put on the lid and left it to brew. “Instead of belittlin’ me, maybe you could get some eggs going.”

He then pulled out a package of bacon from the fridge, presumably to start frying up a few slices.

“And you might think about restocking sometime soon, before all you’ve got left are mustard packets and a two-year-old packet’a fish sticks,” he added. “How the hell did that survive the move?”

A smile threatened to curve her lips. Helena closed her robe more securely, as she was still just wearing her nightgown underneath. He’d already seen it last night and hadn’t made any flirtatious overtures, despite some looks she’d caught him making when they were baking cookies. He was only a man, after all. But she didn’t think he truly saw her that way.

Not anymore, at least.

Sure, he made his sly remarks every now and then, but that was just Butcher’s default. Any chance they might’ve had of breaking that boundary died the moment they discovered Becca was alive. The fact that she was gone now didn’t change anything, in Helena’s mind.

Whatever was left of Butcher’s heart only had room for Becca. And out of respect for her, Helena wouldn’t cross that line. Not even for one night of easy, no-strings fucking.

Because even that, she knew, wouldn’t be just once. And it probably wouldn’t be easy—not in the long run. When she couldn’t trust her own heart to not get…attached.

So, what are you doing exactly? she thought, as she moved around Butcher to grab the eggs from the fridge. Are you running a bed & breakfast for ex-cons, or are you just playing house with your best friend’s husband?

No, she reminded herself. It was for Becca that she was doing this. She wouldn’t have wanted Butcher to twist in the wind forever, with no safe place to come home to…but could Helena really be that for him? Could she handle it—and the many perils that came with a man like him?

She changed into a comfortable yellow sundress, and they eventually sat down to breakfast at her small dining table, fit for two. Even with this large house, she hadn’t seen the need for a bigger table. It wasn’t like she often had company out here in the sticks.

But first, Butcher poured her a cup of coffee. His long fingers brushed hers when he passed her the mug. Her eyes flicked up to his, and she murmured her thanks. His mouth quirked upwards, then he took the seat across from her. She found herself smiling before she realized it.

“So,” she began. She cleared her throat a little and took a sip of coffee. It was fucking perfection. “Are you finally going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”

He was already digging into his eggs and bacon like the carnivore he was. She followed suit at a more human pace.

“What?” he said, unfortunately with his mouth full. She inhaled, and chanced on touching something sensitive.

“Ryan, for example. Have you looked in on him at all?”

Since it happened, was implicit. Butcher’s gaze finally met hers. It took him a while to reply, but eventually, she sensed he gave the truth.

“Every now and again, for whatever it’s worth,” he replied.

“I’m sure it’s worth a lot to him,” she said. “Becca didn’t just want him to be safe. She wanted him to be taken care of.”

“Mallory’s got that worked out.”

“I’m sure she’s keeping an eye on him too. But who’s taking care of him?”

“What’s it to you, anyway?” Butcher said. There was a bit more bite in his tone, and Helena could see him tensing up the further the conversation went. She wasn’t going to pretend she completely understood Butcher yet, but she was learning.

“I saw you with him, Billy. Much as you’re trying to deny it, you care,” she said. “Ryan may not be your son, but you’re all he has now.”

After a moment, Butcher gave a short, humorless chuckle before he brought his coffee mug to his lips. “Ain’t that a scary thought.”

Helena saw the self-deprecation in his eyes, and was sad. Billy Butcher was by no means a perfect man. Most times, he wasn’t even a good one. But he did have a heart, no matter how much he tried to bury it. Despite his calloused edges, there was a good man in him. She had seen it.

Maybe that was why, as hard as she tried, as much as M.M. and Mallory and Becca’s death warned her otherwise…she couldn’t say no to him.

Butcher was starting to feel that familiar itch: the reminder that he should be moving on. He had dropped in here more than too many times, because it was convenient. Because it was a safe place with free food and a comfortable bed. But clearly, if he could be roped into baking cookies at 2 a.m., it was too fucking comfortable.

Still, when Helena acknowledged that he was eating her out of house and home, and she needed to go out and replenish her kitchen, he found himself agreeing to go with her to the local grocery store.

“Really, you don’t need to take off anywhere?” she asked. She was trying not to show it, but she looked hopeful. He wasn’t expecting that, and wasn’t sure if he felt pleased, or just uncomfortable.

“Nah, I can stay…as long as you’re cooking,” he replied.

Helena rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse and keys from where she left them on the kitchen counter.

“Right. I have a feeling if it hadn’t been for M.M. or Frenchie in your little boy band, you’d have withered up and died of starvation before any supe managed to stomp you out,” she quipped.

“That’s what Shake Shack is for,” he countered. He then followed her out the front door, with his own wallet and keys in his pocket.

Really, he should be checking in on Ryan. She had unknowingly reminded him about it at breakfast. Mallory certainly had the night before, in a text designed to be equal parts guilt-tripping and blackmailing. Butcher should just ignore the old bat on principle.

But then again, he was 99% certain Mallory was the reason he’d been able to move off the radar for the past eight months. Homelander-free. So essentially, she was likely the reason Butcher was still breathing.

Tonight, he decided. He would set out tonight to go see Ryan, like he promised Becca he would. And then he wouldn’t come back to upstate New York for a good long time.

That decision solidified in his mind as he followed Helena around the grocery store. She seemed comfortable in her new house, and in this slow, small town, where she already knew her neighbors and almost every shopper in the store knew her. They greeted her with inane, civilized chitchat.

She didn’t seem to mind it, and had smiles and polite conversations with all of them. First there was a married pair and their two kids tearing around the display of canned corn and green beans. Then there was the old man and his emotional-support ferret (Butcher wasn’t one to judge, but as a New Yorker, he had a disdain for long rats).

Meanwhile, Butcher was the scruffy, somewhat dangerous-looking shadow behind her. And their surreptitious side-eying confirmed what he already knew: he was out of place here, and in her life, and it was time for him to go. Maybe for good this time.

“I was thinking of making fajitas. What do you think?” she asked. He sensed her looking at him, and it shook him out of his thoughts.

“I’m not choosy,” he said. “Just don’t go overboard on the poblano peppers. Last time I couldn’t get off the shitter for six hours.”

Helena choked on a laugh, but shushed him with a reprimand in her eyes for speaking so loudly. She dragged him into the produce aisle to hide him from the now frowning couple and their giggling kids.

He graciously bent down to say, maybe a little too closely, “I’m serious about them fucking peppers.”

She narrowed her eyes at him over her shoulder and smirked.

“Lightweight,” she said, and pointedly nudged him in the arm. “Now behave.”

Helena then spent the next few minutes ignoring him. She inspected various fruit and veg with a scrutiny that reminded him of Mother’s Milk. While she was preoccupied with the merits of organic versus non-organic avocados (they looked exactly the same to him), he snuck over to the bakery.

Really, who decided to put the veg next to the cakes and cookies and shit?

“You know, avocados are technically a fat, but they’re really good for you,” Helena said. She tossed a few into one of those plastic, yet paper-thin, can’t-hold-more-than-a-Brussel-sprout produce bags.

“So I’ve heard,” Butcher said, only half-listening. When he first met up with Helena after all those years, she was a chili-cheeseburger eating, Chinese takeout-every-week kinda girl. Now she was apparently scouring health-nut blogs and doing yoga lessons off of YouTube.

Well, the yoga he didn’t mind. Her ass did look great in spandex.

While she was still contemplating fruit, he came in behind her and dropped a strawberry cheesecake into the cart. He hid it under a broccoli stalk and a bunch of bananas.

“Yeah, they’re made of monosaturated fats, so it’s the good fat. Not me-in-middle-school-fat, before my mom made me join the swim team,” she said. “Like she wasn’t the one who raised me almost exclusively on Cuban pastries and fried chicken.”

“Parents,” Butcher scoffed in sympathy, even as he added a container of cherry Danishes to the cart. “The fucking nerve.”

“Right?” She finally decided on the normal avocados, crossing the item off her shopping list. She even starred it on the notepad, reminding herself that she was only buying three of them instead of four. Yet another thorough, bordering on anal trait he would typically associate with M.M.

But even that simple thing, Butcher was sure, was part of what made Helena successful at Vought. She was meticulous, catching details and patterns that others missed. And like Butcher, she could be relentless about it. Which might’ve been why she found out Becca was alive before he did.

And according to Mallory, she had given them a thorough intel report that they were still sorting through, eight months later. That included access codes and memos Helena recorded herself, from memory.

In Butcher’s experience, the CIA recruited on that kind of talent. He wondered, in fact, if Mallory had offered her the same “in” with Supe Affairs as she has offered him.

“Hey, you okay?” Helena asked. Butcher inwardly shook himself from his thoughts again and met her gaze.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been broody all day,” she said. Her brows crunched with concern, and maybe a little bit of suspicion.

“Do what you want with dinner,” he said. “Looks like I’m gonna have to take off when we get back to the house.”

Her suspicion grew with her crossed arms and pursed lips. “Why, what happened?”

“It’s better you don’t know,” he said…which wasn’t exactly a lie. But she clearly sensed it wasn’t the whole truth. Her expression dimmed, and she turned away from him to push the cart. It felt very much like a cold front was settling in.

Butcher almost sighed in annoyance. He followed her into the checkout line, where she started loading everything onto the conveyor belt.

He tried to hand her the eggs, but she only looked up briefly at him before she said, “I’ve got this. You can wait in the car if you want.”

Before he could answer that he wasn’t going to wait in the car like a little boy, the cashier brightened when he saw Helena.

“Welcome back,” he said with a friendly smile. Though he was too busy staring at her ass, bent over as she was to reach into the depths of the cart for the bananas. Her dress was just long enough to hint at said shapely ass and tanned thighs. But his gaze quickly moved back up to her face when she turned around.

Butcher’s lips thinned.

“Andy,” Helena said flatly. She finally found the cheesecake and Danishes under the bananas and sent Butcher a raised brow. He offered his most charming smirk. It earned him a roll of her eyes, but she still put it on the counter with the rest of the groceries.

“Hmm, I see you changed those nails for me,” Andy said. He raised flirtatious brows at her respectable French tips.

Helena couldn’t muster more than an irritated sigh as she waited for him to bag her groceries. Meanwhile, Butcher hung back to watch the little scene play out. Frankly, he was surprised she hadn’t verbally ripped the guy’s dick off like he knew she could. Like any true New Yorker would.

It was disappointing to know she was going soft out here in the suburbs.

He gave Andy a short glance. It didn’t take much to get the seize of him. He was young, maybe late-twenties, fresh-faced, with blonde hair that screamed of early-2000s frosted tips.

Three strikes, Butcher thought with an inward smirk. He watched the cashier try to flirt with all the game of an ex-football player who peaked in high school. Helena was quickly losing patience, tapping her credit card on the counter and wearing a mix of boredom and irritation.

“Look, much as I love this song and dance we do every time I come in here,” she said at last, “I’ve actually got other things on my to-do list today, so…”

“But you keep coming back here, to my register, so I just thought—”

“You’re the only register open,” Helena snapped. “And considering this is the closest grocery store to my house for another twenty minutes—”

“Ah, live nearby, huh?” he said, jumping on the line she unintentionally threw him. “What neighborhood? I’m over by Westchester.”

Butcher almost burst out laughing. The warning signs of the impending eruption of Mt. Helena couldn’t be more entertaining. But his patience was also wearing thin. He finally stepped in behind Helena and presented her with a container of peaches he grabbed from the closest display table.

“Ya wanna try these peaches, love? They’re on sale.”

She glanced up at him, a little curious at his downright cheerful tone. But she shrugged. “That’s fine.”

Butcher gave Andy a cheeky wink.

“I love me a good peach, don’t you?” he said. His free hand slipped down to the small of Helena’s back. For her, it was barely a brush of his fingers. It still made her spine stiffen and a heated blush flood to her face. She gave him a suspicious look over her shoulder.

But to Andy, it looked like he’d literally made a claim on her ass.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Helena snapped, once they’d left the store with their groceries in tow. She was still blushing though.

Butcher smirked. “Shut him up, didn’t it?”

They loaded her groceries into the car while he watched her silently fume. Until she slammed the trunk shut and glared up at him.

“I don’t need you to save me,” she said. And a little more pointedly, “I don’t need anything from you.”

Butcher’s smirk faded. She got into the car without waiting for him to snark back.

On the ride back to her house, he was pensive. He was usually too drunk or too in the mix of a mission to be pensive. But he’d quit drinking four months ago, so there was no other choice.

When Butcher made decisions, he was efficient. They were quick. They were final.

He’d decided this morning he was going to leave, and so he was going to. But first, he helped Helena get the groceries in the house. He helped put them away, as he now knew that the milk went on the fridge door but the vegetables went on the second shelf so she wouldn’t forget about them in the bottom drawer.

He knew that she now liked setting out honey rather than sugar for her coffee. She had a special jar for rice, like a “true Cuban” (her words, not his), and so never left it in the bag.

Somehow over the past few months of being in and out of this house, his subconscious had filed these things away and now he couldn’t forget them. Like the way he used to leave the tortilla chips on the middle pantry shelf so Becca could reach them. And how he used to put the Doritos on the top shelf because she couldn’t.

“I suppose I have time for a quick bite before I leave,” he said, breaking himself out of his thoughts.

Helena shrugged. It seemed she no longer cared what he did. She might well want to see the back of him…but he had a feeling he knew her better than that.

When he took a poblano pepper from her hand and broke out the chopping board from its cupboard, she stared at him with an annoyed frown.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“What?” he mocked. “I could sit on my ass and catch up on The Voice if you prefer.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be a change of pace.”

But she allowed him to help. It strangely reminded her of the first and only time they had cooked together in her old apartment. They worked pretty much in silence, and it gave Helena time to think. Really to wonder, what the fuck is he doing?

She set a timer on the stovetop to let the fajita meat and veggies smoke in the cast iron pan for a while, then she set to making some rice. It was familiar. It was methodic. It let her brain go on autopilot while she measured and washed and drained and watered again. And she would have finally set the rice on the stove to cook.

She just didn’t expect Butcher to be right behind her when she turned around. It knocked the pot filled with rice and water a little and splashed some on the floor.

She uttered a small gasp and jumped, but Butcher’s hands on her hip and elbow stopped her from slipping on the wet floor.

“Sorry,” he said with a smirk. He reached around her to drop the used cutting board in the sink, but his other hand never left her hip. It slid up to her waist, subtly bringing her close enough for their bodies to align—the way they shouldn’t be, she reminded herself.

Or maybe…the way they were meant to. Maybe she wasn’t crazy to think there was still something here. Maybe he didn’t look at her like a sister after all.

Helena couldn’t help the thought when her eyes met his, always so intense and focused wholly on her. She really couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

Her heart was beating fast. And faster still, when his gaze dropped to her lips after she nervously wet them, then tugged her lower lip into her mouth.

What—

The stovetop alarm beeped loudly.

It startled both of them, but Helena used it to breathe and slip by Butcher. She stopped the alarm and set the rice on the stove, not knowing that he was standing there behind her back, frowning.

Disappointed, with a heavy dose of self-loathing. One moment he was determined to leave, the next he was contemplating fucking Helena in her own kitchen.

They ate in silence. There was a movie playing on the TV, but neither of them were really watching. It was some mind-numbing action movie blessedly free of supes, a rare find that was.

When it was finally over, she shut it off while he started taking dishes to the sink. He cut on the water, but a moment later, she turned it off.

“Stop,” she demanded. “Stop it right now.”

Butcher crossed his arms defensively. “What’s your fucking problem?”

“What are you doing, Billy?” she asked. “You say you’re going to leave, like you’re trying to run from me or something. The next you’re…pretending to be my boyfriend and acting like you’re going to devour me on the kitchen counter. What the fuck is this?”

She gestured wildly between the two of them. Butcher leaned in, until his face was inches away from hers. He similarly waved a finger between them.

“You put a stop to this a long time ago,” he said, with that deep, rough voice of his that made her absolutely insane. She expelled a sigh of frustration.

It would be so easy to fall into this, into him.

But M.M. was right. Butcher carried baggage he would never let go of, and ultimately, it would get him killed. It could get her killed.

As reckless as she had been by letting Butcher stay here, she didn’t want to die. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could feel Homelander’s hands around her throat. She could hear his whispers from her nightmares. I know what you did for them. I know everything.

“I stopped this,” she said at last, “because I’m not Becca. I can’t be her replacement.”

As if I ever could be, she thought.

Butcher’s brows pinched with a glare. “I fuckin’ know you’re not.”

“Don’t lie to me!” she snapped.

“That’s fuckin’ rich, innit? When you’re the one who lied!”

She took a step back from him, incredulous. “When the hell did I lie?”

“The day Black Noir came for us at your apartment,” Butcher said. “You didn’t tell me you had a run in with that goddamn golden cunt.”

Her shock silenced them both, her heart falling into the pit of her stomach. She swallowed past the lump of anxiety in her throat.

“Who?” she asked. A feeble attempt to deflect.

Butcher’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re lying right now, to my face. You know who the fuck I’m talkin’ about,” he shouted. “Homelander choked the shit out of you. He nearly killed you in the middle of a fuckin’ hallway.”

Her gaze fell, and her hand raised unconsciously to her neck, where the bruises had long since faded. She sighed, more shakily this time.

“How do you know about that?”

“Mallory showed me the bloody footage,” he said. “I heard what he said, saw what he did. You could’ve quit your job, right then and there, and old Stan wouldn’t a’ been the wiser.”

She didn’t have an answer for him. She tried turning away, maybe to hide in her room until he left her alone, but Butcher wasn’t having it. He held fast to her hand and prodded her to turn back around.

“It’s not like you owed me anything,” he said. “Why didn’t you skip town?”

Interesting, she scoffed. That wasn’t what he said when he “recruited” her, all but blaming her for Becca’s disappearance.

“You know exactly why. It wasn’t about you, it was about me,” she said. “I wanted to find Becca. I can never…fix what I did. Or what I didn’t do, I don’t know…I needed to redeem myself.”

She was sure that was something he could understand. And he seemed to, if the fire quelling in his eyes was anything to go by.

“You know, I thought saying goodbye to you both that day was going to be it,” she said. “I never thought she would be gone while I’m still here.”

She leaned a hand against the kitchen counter, fighting for the things she wanted to say. Maybe Butcher sensed that, and was giving her a moment to figure it out.

Eventually, she grabbed onto his shirt, near his collar. As much as she wanted to fight the pull of him…it had been a losing battle from the start. His hands found her waist, her hips, molding to the curve and shape of her.

“It’s been eight months. Almost a year since then,” she said. “This thing…about you, for you. It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

When he kissed her, it was a sweet relief. It was dominating heat and need. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders while his continued to burn her skin over her clothes, kneading her hips, her ass. He pressed her into the counter and she could already feel the length of him against her thigh. Meanwhile, his tongue found hers and she had no qualms with being devoured. Her entire body was on fire.

She wrapped her arm around his neck for better leverage, but he had his own ideas. His grip on her hips became firm enough to heft her up onto the kitchen counter. Maybe it was cliché, but it made perfect sense to Helena. She wrapped her legs around his hips, forcing him to rock into her clothed center. She shivered, and he smirked into her kiss. His hands slid up the soft skin of her thighs, bunching up the skirt of her pretty yellow sundress.

He briefly squeezed her thighs and let his thumbs draw between them, towards the heat pooling between her legs. He brushed against the dampness in her underwear.

“Don’t take much, huh?” he teased.

She reached down and felt his hard erection straining against her hand. He groaned in response to her touch.

“I could say the same,” she retorted with a cheeky smile.

Butcher's lips quirked, then they met hers, tasting her long and slow. To her, he felt solid and confident, and she actually felt safe in his hands.

He began kissing his way down her neck. It just mildly distracted her from what he was doing further down, grabbing the delicate material of her underwear and ripping them down on one side, then the other. Her eyes widened in shock at feeling the lacy material slide out between her legs. She blushed the sensation making her skin tingle deliciously.

She should be mad that he’d just ruined a $30 pair of panties. But the strength she felt in his arms as he did it only quickened her heartbeat and enhanced the flood between her legs.

She sucked in a breath when he finally began teasing her slit with one finger, then sliding between her slippery folds. The muscles in her lower belly tightened in anticipation. They were really doing this.

“Yep,” he said.

Helena snapped her head up at his smirking face and realized she’d actually said that thought out loud.

Butcher smirked, and then two of his fingers sunk into her wet heat. She uttered a short whimper of pleasure as he began to work her with an expert hand. Her breaths deepened in his ear and she all but grinded down rhythmically into his touch, especially when his thumb found the swollen bud of her clit. She carded her fingers through his black hair, and his name fell from her lips. Like a prayer.

His fingers moved deeper within her, curling against that special spot inside. Finally, that dam of heat within her broke in waves as she shuddered against him. But his fingers didn’t stop their relentless onslaught, drawing out her orgasm and pulling a long moan and a couple of of Spanish expletives from her throat. Because fuck, had it been a long time since she’d felt this good.

Helena clung to Butcher’s shoulders while he eventually stopped to let her catch her breath. Her head was resting in the crook of his neck, so she first pressed a kiss below his ear, then raised her head and he met her with a fierce kiss.

“You nearly cut the circulation in my fucking hand, love,” he said with an indecent smirk. “Thought I was gonna lose it in this sweet pussy.”

She was sure her face was red as a cherry by now. Still coming down from her unbelievable high, she had no words. She watched him withdraw his glistening hand and make a show of licking one of his fingers clean.

“Sweet indeed,” he added. “But we ain’t close to done.”

Her hands shook, but she pulled him close again by his belt and began to unbuckle it for him. “You’re goddamn right.”

Then, it became a race for whoever could remove each other’s clothes first. Helena unzipped his pants while he helped wrench up her dress. Her hands glided up under his stupid fucking Hawaiian shirt and forced it over his head.

He all but tore the clasp of her bra and freed her breasts, which fit perfect and full in his hands. He kneaded and caressed and rolled his thumbs over the pert brown buds, and she panted and arched into him. She met him with a deep kiss, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and let her nails drag a little down his back. It earned her a throaty groan and a warm, rough hand between her thighs.

She could feel his wet tip positioning at her entrance—and it snapped her out of autopilot, back into her head where red alarm bells were flaring loud and insistent.

She grabbed one of his hands, stopping him.

“Wait. Billy, wait.”

He was panting and straining with need himself, but to his credit, he stopped. His eyes snapped down to hers, his brows crunching in mostly curiosity.

“I can’t do things halfway here,” she warned him. She’d been alone this long for a reason. “I can’t be what’s convenient for you.”

His eyes studied hers. For what, she couldn’t be sure.

“That ain’t what this is,” he said eventually.

She laid a hand on his chest, over his rapidly beating heart.

“Tell me the truth. Why did you look for me?” she asked.

His iron, demanding grip on her waist gentled. He sighed, and she felt his breath on her forehead.

“You know exactly why,” he said.

Hope and warmth bloomed in her chest, making her smile. She let go of his wrist and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her head tilted to the side as she considered him suspiciously.

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

Butcher’s eyes darkened. His brow rose suggestively. “I can be persuasive.”

He pressed a biting kiss just beneath her ear. Her hold on him tightened as she sucked in a breath. But then she offered him a claiming kiss of her own.

“Prove it then,” she said against his lips.

He took that challenge to heart, pulling her body right to the edge of the kitchen counter until he could align himself at the right angle. The moment his length slid deep into her core, she almost came apart right then and there. He stretched and filled her entirely to capacity—to the point where she worried he might be a little too big for her.

He grunted and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. She moved her hips a little to adjust to his size. He groaned.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he hissed. “Fuckin' hell.”

She gave a breathless laugh.

“You’re welcome,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, her heels digging into his ass. He pulled out just enough to slam into her again, making them both shudder. He eased out again, and continued into a building rhythm that soon became frantic. Most of the time, she could only hold onto him for the ride.

But feeling his body tense up further, she knew he was close (along with the sounds he was making). She could see the road ahead and almost taste her release, but to help them both, she reached down between them and touched the nearly overstimulated bud over her entrance and whined into the crook of his neck.

“I gotcha, babe. Almost there,” Butcher muttered. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and feeling on the verge of his end, he bit down between her neck and her shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make her cry out at the peak of her own release. Her nails reflexively bit into his shoulders and he hissed with similar pleasure mixed with pain.

He soothed her afterwards with his hand cupping the back of her head, smoothing down her hair. His hand remained at the back of her neck when he leaned back and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. Her legs detangled from around his hips. Then her hands drifted softly down his bare chest.

“Well,” she said, “that happened.”

He nodded with a mellowed grin. “Still happening, actually.”

Butcher shifted his hips to remind her that he was, in fact, still inside her. He eased out and grabbed a clean hand towel from the counter to wipe up the slick between both of their legs. He was slower with her though, letting the cloth slide tantalizingly across her swollen lips.

He then smirked at her renewed blush. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of those honey brown eyes, red, thoroughly kissed lips, and flushed cheeks. It was about to get him going again.

“Join me in the shower?” she offered, despite her blush.

Butcher helped her down from the kitchen counter and held her naked body against his. He towered over her by quite a few inches, but her body was strong and her abundant curves gave perfectly in his hands.

His voice was deep with suggestive grit.

“If we’re smart, we could christen just about every room, hidden nook, and otherwise flat surface in this great big house,” he said.

She laughed and framed his face with her hands. “Hmm. In that case, better take my vitamins.”

Then she covered up what would’ve been his smart-ass retort with a deep kiss.

Keep Reading: PART 13

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@lauraaan182, @homielander, @calizmor

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syyskirjat · 2 years

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(Carmilla Weekly, Chapter 2, Sept. 11th)

I have to start again with an addition to last week, because I forgot to mention it: we never really did find out who Laura is writing to, do we? This account was discovered among Doctor Hesselius's papers, and the Doctor has apparently was in contact with Laura at some point, but Doctor Hesselius is supposed to be German, and Laura says "your English miles", which would imply that she's writing to an English recipient. I'll keep an eye on this, I don't remember if we ever get any more hints.

A small linguistic note: "Mademoiselle Rheinfeldt" with the French honorific is interesting. Are the Rheinfeldts a French-speaking family? Or is it just a random quirk of Laura's multilingual upbringing? Or another convention entirely? I do know that there was a point when many of the royal families in continental Europe spoke French, but would that apply to the nobility as well? And even as late as the 19th century? I have no clue. Maybe it’s just Laura’s habit. It does seem like French would most likely be the language most often spoken in their household since it’s the language they all probably share, unless her father doesn’t speak French.

Another small linguistic note but this time probably just for me: I was always confused by the "lime trees" but I've just discovered that it actually just means linden trees, which makes much more sense.

Anyway Fs in chat for poor Bertha. o7

"The fiend who betrayed our infatuated hospitality has done it all. I thought I was receiving into my house innocence, gaiety, a charming companion for my lost Bertha. Heavens! what a fool have I been!"

I'm sure this won't be plot relevant in anyway. Zero foreshadowing here. Don't worry about it.

It's worth noting though that Bertha's illness lasted at least six or seven weeks according to Laura, starting as something barely remarkable.

Poor Laura as well, she was so looking forward to a new friend. Wonder how her and Bertha would have been together if they had had the chance?

But of course the sorrowful mood is no reason not to describe the pretty view!

Mademoiselle De Lafontaine—in right of her father who was a German, assumed to be psychological, metaphysical, and something of a mystic—now declared that when the moon shone with a light so intense it was well known that it indicated a special spiritual activity.

(...)

"when you look behind you at the front of the schloss how all its windows flash and twinkle with that silvery splendor, as if unseen hands had lighted up the rooms to receive fairy guests.”

I feel like old vampire stories are so much more mystical about them, they're more like some kind of fae folk than just, idk, intelligent zombies.

there stands by the roadside a magnificent lime tree, on the other stands an ancient stone cross, at sight of which the horses, now going at a pace that was perfectly frightful, swerved so as to bring the wheel over the projecting roots of the tree.

Swerved to avoid the cross, you say? Hmmm... (okay I mean that's definitely something that horses would probably do, but the symbolism is very on the nose.)

"It would, on the contrary, be to confer on us a very great kindness at the moment when we most need it. My daughter has just been disappointed by a cruel misfortune, in a visit from which she had long anticipated a great deal of happiness. If you confide this young lady to our care it will be her best consolation"

Ah, how convenient.

#carmilla weekly #carmilla

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gascon-en-exil · 2 years

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I've not been able to post as much as I'd like lately for a number of reasons, but because someone asked about it a few days ago I think I can now put together a list of my five favorite Disco Elysium characters. There's still significant bits I haven't played, because it's been surprisingly hard to motivate myself to continue my second playthrough (maybe because all the major plot points and a lot of the dialogue will still be the same?), but I think I have enough of an impression between my first run and other stuff I've read to make this call. In no real order:

Klassje

As I said, she's up there, although not at the top. Her backstory is somewhat relatable, and I like how she initially looks to the femme fatale of this noir-like story before that starts to unravel. It can be (intentionally) hard to parse her through the detective's obvious attraction to her, and in a future run I'd like to see what happens if you go through with trying to arrest her. There's a lot of good moments in her dialogue about the complexities of sexual consent and what it is to care for all-around terrible men.

The Smoker on the Balcony

An obvious one - purely by being himself he awakens the detective's latent bisexuality. What's not to love? It's funny that his sugar daddy will disclose his name and profession even when he's caught at the site of their encounters, yet you'll never learn the Smoker's real name. I also find it interesting that (as far as I can remember) he's the only character to call the detective gendarme. There's an entire essay to be written - very likely not by me, though - on the many ways that DE uses the French language, and while with the Smoker it just seems like a random quirk it's still something that stands out.

Plaisance

Not at all one I expected to like, but there's a delightful absurdity to Plaisance that I can't help but find entertaining. Her fraught abuser-and-abused family situation, her silly attempts at getting the detective to buy from her, her dislike of most of her own products and even the bookshop concept, her casual racism insidious in how mundane it is, and her strange ideas about the Doomed Commercial Area (that may have turned out not to be so strange? Honestly the game starts to lose me when it gets into the stuff about the Pale.) all make quite an enjoyable merchant NPC.

Tiago

The "crabman" of the church only has one scene, and it's a strange one where he's judgmental of the detective's vices despite his clear obsession with losing himself in a nearly religious sense to the Pale, but he's such a distinctive and odd presence that he can't help but be memorable. I like that he never appears again after the club kids set up in the church, but everyone there knows he's still up in the rafters. Eerie - and oddly easier to understand than the dramatic scenes involving the hole in the world.

The Washerwoman/Isobel

Much more stern and knowledgeable than she initially lets on, and someone who provides both a place of refuge for the detective (and Ruby) and who acts more like a community leader than most of the authorities in Martinaise. She immediately sees through Evrart's scheme to force out the residents of the fishing village, but can be made to sign off on the plan anyway because she intends to stand her ground. Another unexpected choice, but she was the most grounding presence in the areas beyond the water lock which is something the detective sorely needs in a time when his home and most of his former life is literally unreachable.

I can't finish this post though without mentioning Kim, who's such a significant and dynamic figure in DE that it didn't feel right to lump him in with NPCs who spend almost all their time in static locations responding to a relatively small number of dialogue trees. Kim is so much more than that, and while that also somewhat curtails his ability to react negatively to what the detective does (from what I've read there's only one situation where he'll abandon you out of anger, and even then it's only temporary) that's more than made up for with the many ways in which he gets to interact with the story and help the detective pick up the pieces of his life. To place Kim in this top five would have seemed inadequate to everything he is, essentially.

#Disco Elysium

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rcsplendent · 11 months

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❝ TRUE that love in WITHDRAWAL was the weeping of ME . ❞

☼☾ ( saoirse ronan , 30 , they/she , non-binary femme , stuart 4 ) - have you seen ROWENA STUART? we’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re DRUIDIC but also NAIVE. when you think of them , you think of runes etched into leather and stone, dandelion and nettle tea, a candlelit shrine to the gods.

parallels : jo march ( little women ) ; misty day ( american horror story: coven ) ; nell crain ( the haunting of hill house ) ; luna lovegood ( harry potter )

BASIC INFO

FULL NAME: rowena niamh stuart

AGE: thirty

GENDER: nonbinary woman

PRONOUNS: they/she

ORIENTATION: pansexual panromantic

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: primary — english, scots, gaelic; conversational — french

ACCENT: scottish

LABEL: the druid; a prophetic soothsayer; someone who seems to have a spiritual connection with the gods.

APPEARANCE & PERSONALITY

FACE CLAIM: saoirse ronan

HEIGHT: five feet, six inches

HAIR COLOUR: dark blonde, curly & thick, down to her waist

EYE COLOUR: pale blue, but somehow warm & inviting

USUAL EXPRESSION: pleasant and friendly, but lost in thought; looking off into nothingness as if daydreaming.

POSITIVE TRAITS: gentle-hearted, selfless, kind, friendly, exuberant, protective, observant, playful, spiritual, romantic

NEGATIVE TRAITS: naive, anxious, fearful, scatterbrained, capricious, skittish, ditzy, ecclesiastic

FAMILY

MOTHER: unnamed queen of scotland

FATHER: graeme stuart, king of scotland

SIBLINGS: violet stuart, princess of scotland; gwendolyn stuart, princess of scotland

THINGS TO KNOW

you were born on the first day of spring, silent as you arrived, your eyes opening to reveal a look of wonder. the midwives said you looked as if you had seen it all before; like your soul had already been reborn a thousand times over.

it started when you were a baby, really; the nonsensical wailing, the inconsolable fits. your parents thought you might have colic, and then maybe that you might not be developing quite right, but you grew just fine, learned to walk and talk at the same age as everyone else. but the fits remained. sometimes, you'd suddenly stop what you were doing, take one, two, three heaving breaths and then BURST into tears like something terrible had just happened to you.

but, see, that's the thing — that's what it felt like. randomly, in the middle of a meal with your family all around you, or while you were out in the fields chaining daisies together to make a crown with your sisters, safe as can be, you would suddenly feel like the world was ending, or like someone very close to you had died. it was uncontrollable and all-encompassing — the worst sadness and fear you'd ever felt, hitting like a tidal wave for no apparent reason.

at first, your family believed it was just a quirk, something you might grow out of. but then things started to line up in ways that felt too convenient to be a coincidence. when you were five, you threw a fit, screaming about how "something terrible was going to happen," and the next day, a sentry would come running to alert the royal family that a terrible storm was coming and would hit in less than an hour. the flash floods that ensued wiped out entire groves of centuries-old trees. when you were seven, you halted a make-believe session with your sisters and bursted into tears, wailing the words, "they're all going to die." that evening, a soldier reported that entire herds of cows in the upper highland ranches were dropping dead from an unknown illness.

you became something of a beacon. it wasn't always true — sometimes you'd have one of your episodes and nothing would come of it. but your family never faltered in their precautions, because more often than pure chance, you were right. eventually, your family's spiritual advisors heralded you as a DRUID — a blessed individual, somebody who has a special connection to the gods.

people from other cultures insist that it's not real, that there's no way you're clairvoyant, that you can see the future. and honestly, you're not so sure of it yourself. but you can't deny what happens when an episode strikes — that feeling of being overcome with doom, the all-encompassing tidal wave of dread. you became convinced from a young age that the gods had given you this ability as a way to help people.

so, you spend your adolescence and young adulthood becoming more and more devout to the gods who had given you this gift. you pray to them every dawn and dusk. you have a shrine to dagda in your chambers, where you always keep a candle lit — you've never let it go out, not in the twenty years since you built it. you have countless books filled with runes and rituals, and you know recipes for healing elixirs like the back of your hand.

but even stronger than your devotion to your gods is your loyalty to your family. you are a STUART, and you know deep in your heart that it's your purpose to love and serve your family. your sisters are your best friends and you tell them anything and everything, despite how they might think your ecclesiastic tangents to be a bit boring. there's no one else you'd rather spend your days with.

HEADCANONS

obviously, rowena is not actually clairvoyant ! she is mostly just a very anxious and deeply intuitive person and sometimes, an unexplainable terrible feeling just washes over her. sometimes it's nonsensical, but sometimes it's because she's observed signs of disaster that other people haven't, and sometimes without even realizing she's noticed them herself. in scot/gaelic culture & mythology, there are individuals called druids who are heralded as having a connection to the gods, and are believed to have sensitivities like clairvoyance. so, in her family's culture, it makes sense that she would be treated as one.

she is a deeply romantic person and is always finding ways to notice and cultivate love in her life, platonic and romantic. she is the kind of friend who will spend hours making you a handmade gift, just because she wants to.

she is very " religious " in the sense that she is deeply devoted to the gaelic/celtic gods. she prays every dawn and dusk.

she is a pacifist by nature, but has a fiery heart ( and a lot of fire in her zodiac chart, although she would have no idea what that means! ). she is fiercely loyal to her family and loved ones and would fight anyone who tries to hurt them.

she's friendly to a fault, and is always actively seeking out the good in people, even those who don't see it in themselves. she wants to believe that everyone is a good person, which can get her into trouble sometimes.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

friends: she definitely has lots and lots of friends! anyone who is kind to her is a friend in her book.

unlikely friend: she is desperate to see the good in people, so i think it would be super cute if there was someone who is a total grump, and she's managed to weasel her way under their skin !

a fated love: listen ...... this could be so soft. someone she thinks was sent by the gods. an angel in human skin. or maybe someone who makes her question her faith. LISTEN ....

#francehq.intro #rowena stuart — intro.#rowena stuart — face.#rowena stuart — musings.#rowena stuart — interactions.

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scorpioaqua · 2 years

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bbrae week 2022 | day four | breaking up/making up/secrets

title: crash rating: T/Teen and Up word count: 2,729 ao3 | ffn

SUMMARY: "'You ruined my date,' Raven barks at him, defeat gradually overtaking her anger. 'A date,' Gar murmurs thoughtfully, then shrugs. 'I didn't know it was a date.'"

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Raven’s date says to her, looking down at his burger with disdain. She lifts her gaze at this, perhaps a bit too hopefully. Dating is not her scene. She’s tried it a few times, even getting as far as the fifth date with one contender, but in the end they all left her disinterested. Noah, the charmingly nerdy literature student she bumped into at the bookstore, is – unfortunately – no exception. While the date started off well enough, with the two of them perusing a local art gallery and discussing their latest reads, Raven hasn’t felt any notable chemistry. Any chance of him echoing her sentiments and cutting the date short is a win in her book. But then he prods at the burger bun and glances over at her with amusement, and she realizes that he’s only talking about the food. She hides her deflation with a well-placed polite smile.

“No, you know what they say about nondescript diner beef,” Raven says, examining her own order: a coffee and a simple side of french fries. “It’s the best. World-renowned.”

“Whose world?” her date quips, and she can’t help a genuine smile at that one. It’s not that Noah is a bad guy. He’s perfectly adequate. And nice. Too nice, even. Too human. Too normal.

He’d absolutely cave the first time he saw her soul-self or a stray demon, and, taking chances as she is – learning to love and baring her soul and all that crap – Raven doesn’t have time for the weak. If she’s doing this, she needs someone who can handle her. All of her. Someone who is more intimately acquainted with dark magic, or at least with superheroes. Someone who can take her outbursts in stride and read her body language to know when she needs time alone. Someone more like–

“Shit.” Raven’s eyes widen slightly as she takes in the green face smiling back at her from the diner’s front window.

Noah follows her gaze. “What?” he asks.

Standing on the sidewalk, using one hand to unsuccessfully shield himself from the rainfall, is Beast Boy. He’s waving, waiting for Raven to return the gesture. Confusion painting her features, Raven raises one hand and obliges.

“That’s my teammate. On the Titans,” Raven begins explaining to Noah. “He’s–”

“Beast Boy,” Noah finishes, and Raven turns to see him nodding knowingly. When she quirks an eyebrow, he blushes faintly. “I, uh…I didn’t want to sound like a superfan when I asked you out or anything, but I know a fair amount about the team.”

“Oh?” Raven says. “Then you know he’s kind of a pain in the ass. Excuse m–”

But as she turns to assess the situation, she sees that Beast Boy isn’t on the sidewalk anymore. He’s made his way to the front door of the diner, and as he pokes his head through the door, the bell hanging overhead announces his arrival with a soft Ding!

Raven sighs. “Dammit.”

“Sit anywhere you like, hon,” a raspy-voiced waitress calls to Beast Boy.

“I choose this one,” he says cheerily, pointing at Raven and Noah as he approaches their table.

“What?” Raven demands testily, then schools herself. She doesn’t have plans of calling Noah back after this – at least not beyond delivering the obligatory “You’re really nice, but…” speech – but that doesn’t mean she has to embarrass herself in front of him, either. “Beast Boy, I am kind of in the middle of something here,” she says, just as the changeling begins insinuating himself into her side of the booth.

“It’s fine, really,” Noah says amicably, waving at the new addition. “I’m Noah. Really great to meet you. I’m quite a fan.”

“Thanks, dude!” Beast Boy replies, beaming. He turns to Raven, glancing down at her combination of a sweater and jeans, and she’s suddenly very self-conscious. “You look nice, Rae,” he offers, then reaches out to steal one of her fries as if rewarding himself for remembering to compliment her.

“She does,” Noah agrees, and he has no way of knowing that the blush creeping up her face now would have been there regardless of his interjection.

“You’re…also not in your uniform,” Raven notes, taking in Gar’s civilian clothes – typical autumn fare, like her own, except that his are slightly damp with rainwater.

“Yeah,” Beast Boy says, pawing at his shirt. “I hit the used video game shop but they didn’t have anything new in since last week. Could’ve used one of your creepy demon umbrellas to keep me from getting all drenched, Raven.”

“Or you could have just remembered to bring your own umbrella,” Raven retorts.

“Who needs to do that when I’ve got a friend like you?” Gar says, batting his eyes at her like an adoring lover. She shoves the thought out of her mind.

“Except I wasn’t out there with you, so common sense dictates–”

“Oh, that again!” Gar scoffs, snatching a few more fries from her plate. He turns to Noah, who has been silently prodding at his burger, and explains, “She’s big on wanting me to use common sense. It’s like, who even decided the rules of common sense? I’d like to talk to that guy. Usually when Raven says ‘common sense’ it means ‘no more fun’.”

Noah gives a tight-lipped, awkward smile, and for as much time as she’s spent wishing the date would wrap up this evening, Raven can’t help but feel guilty.

“Beast Boy,” she says sharply, catching him by the wrist as he reaches for another fry, “Noah and I are having dinner alone right now. Can your antics wait until I get back to the tower, at least?”

Beast Boy’s brows raise, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I think that’s maybe the first time you’ve asked me to reschedule my bullshit instead of threatening to dump me in some random dimension.” He turns back to Noah. “Which is a thing she can do, by the way.”

Noah chuckles nervously. Raven feels the pressure in her temple building.

At this moment, the waitress approaches, pen in hand. “What can I get for you?” she asks Beast Boy robotically, and he considers for a moment.

“Nothing,” Raven answers for him. “He was actually just leaving, but thank you.”

Beast Boy tsks at her. “Raven, don’t you know it’s rude to order for your date?” he says, leaning across her to snatch a menu from behind the napkin holder. Raven intercepts his grab, sending the menu sailing across the restaurant with a wave of energy.

“You are not my date,” she snarls at him through clenched teeth. “Noah is my date,” she gestures at the young man across the table, who appears as uncomfortable as if he were in a proctologist’s waiting room, “and you are intruding.”

Gar blinks a couple times, then sighs, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right, Rae,” he says with chagrin. “I’m sorry. I’ll…take my order to go.” She doesn’t miss the mischievous lilt to his voice.

For all her attempts at composure, Raven can’t resist slamming her fist on the table. The dishes and silverware spread atop it skitter at the disruption, and Raven shakes off the coffee that has sloshed onto her sleeve as she snaps, “You’re not ordering any food! Go home!”

The waitress, whose disinterested demeanor reveals that she would rather be anywhere else, pauses her idle scribbling on her notepad to ask, “So...nothing else, then?”

“I think I’m up for a coffee myself, actually,” Gar says, his eyes never leaving Raven. “It’s chilly out there. Need to warm myself up before I hit the road.”

“One coffee–” the waitress begins.

“No,” Raven interjects. She telepathically confiscates the waitress’ pen, not noticing the brief glint of terror on Noah’s features; her eyes are trained exclusively on Beast Boy. “You are ruining my evening. Go home. I will not ask you again.”

“I’m gonna go for a smoke,” the waitress says noncommittally, as Beast Boy leans in to Raven, murmuring, “Yeah, ‘cause you were having so much fun before, right?”

Raven’s eyes glow with power, the light fixtures above her wavering threateningly. “I am going to–”

“You know,” comes Noah’s meek voice from across the table, “it’s really all right. I’ve got an early day tomorrow anyway and should probably call it a night.” He chuckles nervously as he struggles to extricate himself from the booth. “Let me just, ah…” He begins patting down his pockets hurriedly.

“No problemo, champ,” Gar says, removing a wad of cash from his pocket and waving it tauntingly. “I got this one.” He winks. “She’s kind of an expensive date, right?”

“Heh heh,” Noah manages, adjusting his glasses. “Well, uh…” He turns to Raven as if to bid her goodnight, but her eyes are closed, her fingers massaging her temples methodically.

“Just go,” she says dismissively, and Noah obliges, his exit enabling a gust of autumn wind to sweep into the nearly-empty diner. After the bell above the door has ceased its rattling, Raven opens her eyes, turning a venomous glare onto Beast Boy. “You’re an asshole,” she spits at him.

Beast Boy, who has stolen her coffee in the interim, looks skyward in apparent contemplation, tapping his fingers idly on the mug. “Mmm...surprisingly, not the first time I’ve heard that,” he tells her before taking a sip.

Raven clenches her jaw. “What is your fucking problem?” she demands.

“I don’t have a problem,” Gar says, watching her in mock incredulity. “You, on the other hand…can demons take Xanax?”

“You ruined my date,” Raven barks at him, defeat gradually overtaking her anger.

“A date?” Gar murmurs thoughtfully, then shrugs. “I didn’t know it was a date.”

“Like hell you didn’t! You expect me to believe you were just in the neighborhood at the exact time and locale of my date tonight?” She pauses, taking in his slouched frame. “And by the way, that store you said you went to is miles away, so try again.”

Gar sighs, turning slightly to angle his body towards Raven. “Come on, Rae. You didn’t even like that guy.”

“How do you know?” Raven hisses, stealing her coffee mug back from where he’s left it unattended on the table. “Maybe I did like him. Maybe I really liked him. Maybe he was my soulmate and now I’ll never know because you made me look like an idiot!”

“Your soulmate?” Gar drawls, giving her a pointed look.

Raven blushes, staring down into the now-cold coffee in her hands. “It’s a figure of speech, you imbecile.”

“No, it’s a real thing, and that guy was not it,” Gar replies evenly. “And if you weren’t so stubborn, maybe you’d realize that sooner.”

Raven takes a deep breath, shoving her coffee away in disgust. “What do you want, Garfield?”

He surprises her by softening his gaze. “A chance,” he says, and when she recoils slightly, “or at least an explanation.”

“There’s nothing to explain.”

“Raven,” Gar says with exasperation. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” she demands.

He leans in close again, refusing to release her gaze. “Pretending you don’t want me, too.”

Raven freezes, afraid to move with his face so close to hers. She looks involuntarily to his lips, then away. “I am not pretending anything,” she insists.

“That’s a lie,” Gar says, in a surprisingly pleasant tone. “We both know it. I’m not the smartest guy in the world, Rae, but I haven’t been imagining this feeling between us.”

“What feeling?” Raven demands, finding she has shifted closer inadvertently.

“The one that made you stare, smiling, like a lovesick fool at me through the window for like, a full five seconds before it clicked that I was there,” Gar says with a smirk. “And, yeah, it hurt that when I asked you out, you told me you ‘just weren’t looking’ for a relationship, only to find out you’re out here dating around, but hey.” He cups her chin gently. “I’ll crash as many bad dates as you want me to. Just say the word.”

It takes every ounce of strength in Raven’s body to remove his hand from her face, but she does, spiriting past him out of the booth before she can change her mind. “You’re deluding yourself,” she says, unsure whether she’s directing this towards the changeling or herself. She pauses at the door, turning to ghost some of Beast Boy’s money to the table to pay the bill, then steps out into the cold night.

He’s, naturally, right on her tail. They pass the waitress from earlier, a long cigarette dangling from her mouth as she shelters under the restaurant’s awning. She doesn’t look up as they pass, nor as Gar grabs for Raven’s hand and bids her to stop.

“This doesn’t have to be hard, Raven,” he pleads, pulling her beneath the awning. “Look, I–I know it was immature of me to come here tonight. Really, I do.” Raven rolls her eyes at this, leaning back against the building with her arms folded tightly. “But I couldn’t stomach the idea of you with some other guy,” Gar continues. “If I thought you didn’t feel the same way, I’d have tucked my tail between my legs and gone home. But I…Raven, if I was wrong about this whole thing – if you really, actually, never in a million years would want to be with me – then I’ll drop it. Forever, okay? I promise.” He is standing directly in front of her now, rain droplets hanging from his nose and eyelashes, green eyes darkening slightly. He leans in to deliver, in a whisper, the words, “But I don’t think you can tell me that.”

Raven’s breath catches in her throat, and she is undeniably watching his lips now, transfixed. She swallows once, unsure if her voice will do her bidding. “It would jeopardize our job. Our family,” she says finally, their other teammates flashing before her mind’s eye. “If something went wrong–”

“We won’t let it,” Gar says insistently, holding her face again. “We’ve fought bigger baddies than this. I think we can handle it.”

“No, this–” Raven reaches up to hold his wrist, but doesn’t remove his hand again. “This is my biggest baddie.”

And she doesn’t have to elaborate. He knows – Azar, she loves how he sometimes just knows – that she means love. Letting him in. Opening the floodgates to a world of emotion she has very little experience navigating. The overwhelming fear that it might all be for nothing – that she could let him consume her and one day he could wake up and not want her anymore, and as earth-shattering as that would be by itself, there could be implications for her future as a Titan, her future with her chosen family, and it’s the scariest thought she’s ever had.

Gar nods, stroking her face with his thumb. “I’ll be in your corner the whole time,” he assures her in a hushed tone. “I’m not going anywhere, Rae. And I know all I can give you is my word – and the love I know you can feel from me – so it’s your choice, Raven. Are you done playing it safe here? Do you want to take a chance?” He shrugs weakly. “Or not?”

His presence, this close to her face, is more intoxicating than anything she’s ever known. She knows he can tell, with his heightened senses, how shaky her breath is, how erratic her heartbeat. She slides her hand down his arm to rest at the back of his neck, pulling him forward to rest their foreheads against one another.

“No one can know,” she tells him. “Not yet.”

His mouth erupts into a toothy grin, his other hand lifting to match the one cradling her face. “Okay,” he agrees, and then she can’t wait anymore, and his lips are on hers, her entire frame radiating with passion and desire and love so disorienting that she can’t tell which emotions are hers and which are his.

The entwined pair are startled by a smoker’s cough, and their heads snap over to find the waitress from the diner stubbing out her cigarette, smiling at them faintly through a haze of smoke. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she says with a wink before heading back inside, and Gar silences Raven’s growing protest with another kiss.

#i'm not going to lie the part that took the longest was choosing a gif #bbraeweek22 #bbraeweek2022 #bbrae #teen titans #beast boy #raven #garfield logan #rachel roth

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 2 years

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The Sorcerers Stone - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Just found this. What a fascinating piece of history. This is a fantastic story.

Of the three most important writers of speculative fiction, I would probably say that Tolkien and Lovecraft both have been well-served in that they have had their works translated into English by an author who is actually a master translator, who understands not only the spirit of their work, but the specific concerns and stylistic quirks of English. (In a different way, I think a good case could be made that Tolkien's work would be better in English than in any other language, his language of dwarves and orcs just being better suited to English than other languages are.) At most, Tolkien's work has been translated once, and mostly not very well.

The only thing I know of SF and fantasy in English that would compare in any way to The Sorcerers Stone is The Neverending Story. I don't think anyone could seriously claim to be better at translating the original German than André Bjerre, and yet I would not put this book in the same company as The Neverending Story. (In fact, I put it in the same company as two other books that are probably better than it: The Mime Machine, The Neverending Story author Phillip K. Dick) I think the fact that the English translator starts from something much more similar to the original than you start from with Lovecraft is an important element of the difference here. (Also, The Neverending Story may be better read in French or German than English; maybe it's a French-German/Nordic fusion that no one knows about because none of the people doing the translating were familiar with Nordic mythology?)

And yet, despite everything, I still think The Neverending Story is more impressive in its translation (and more impressive in general) than The Sorcerers Stone, even though the former is only better in its translation than the latter because the latter is much worse than the former. In particular, I think The Neverending Story makes better use than The Sorcerers Stone does of the translator's task of taking a story of worldbuilding and mythology and turning it into something new (to use the word "new") for the English-speaking audience of the 1990s. The work of translating an already-existent story (the original tale of elves and dwarves!) into a more modern context of the 1990s is easier than the reverse – it takes less creativity, it takes less innovation. (That's not even getting into the fact that the story of the elves and dwarves is new in the sense of being a new genre of writing to take into account the influence of Tolkien. But there, we just have to assume it's true that no one has ever written a fantasy story this strange in English before, so a more sophisticated translator than the one doing the Sorcerers Stone project can easily get away with starting fresh.)

(I'm mostly contrasting The Neverending Story with The Sorcerers Stone because in my opinion The Neverending Story is a lot less of a translation than many people seem to recognize or appreciate, it's a very subtle and nuanced and unusual kind of translation, but I could be wrong)

#big yud

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years

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268 of 2022

“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

given how Americanised this site is, it’s important to celebrate all our countries and nationalities - with all their quirks and vices and ridiculousness, and all that might seem strange to outsiders.

1. favourite place in your country?

The coast. My province is the only province in my country that has the sea coast.

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

Whatever, both are great.

3. does your country have access to sea?

Yes, it does, but only with one province (West Flanders). I was born and raised at the sea, really.

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

Waterzooi. It’s a dish native to the city of Ghent. I’d mention fries and waffles, but everybody kniows that.

5. favourite song in your native language?

Since I’m from the north, my language is Dutch. This language is spoken also in the Netherlands (obviously lol). So my favourite songs in Dutch language are not necessarily made by Belgian artists.

But for the sake of this survey, I’m going to say I like many songs by Tourist LeMC, he’s a Belgian artist based in Antwerp. Otherwise, I love basically everything made by Lange Frans & Baas B, they are Dutch rappers.

6. most hated song in your native language?

Gotta say Leef by Andre Hazes Jr. You either love or hate it XD

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

Godverdomme, klootzak & debiel. Yes, they’re all ugly words. XD

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

I’m quite tall, so people often think I’m Dutch. Well, they’re not that far from the truth :P but every time I speak, I immediately disclose myself as a West-Flemish Belgian. We speak with the accent everyone around makes fun of.

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

Luxembourg because it’s the only neighbopur country I’ve never visited. I’ve been to all other three (France, the Netherlands, Germany) so many times.

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Godverdomme. You didn’t expect anything else, did you?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

I don’t have any.

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

I have no favourites, and I haven’t seen any English translation of anything Belgian. Even from French.

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

My country is a little oddball of Europe, so count this in.

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

No, I don’t watch movies and I’m not big on TV.

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

Making fun of Dutch and French people.

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

Hate - Belgium is boring. Agree - we have messed up government.

17. are you interested in your country’s history?

Yes, but there’s not so much to brag about. See that Congo thing.

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

Of course I do. It’s hard to spot, though, my area blends, but I’ve picked up a lot from the dialect of Bruges and Ostend.

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

Yes to all three. Our coat of arms has two lions on it.

20. which sport is The Sport in your country?

Football, hands down. I’m, like, the exceptional Belgian who doesn’t hold any interest in football XD the second one is cycling.

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

I’d say fries and waffles, but that would be too obvious. So I’d say beer and chocolate.

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

I don’t really know how to express it, but I really have some kind of ‘local patriotism’ where I’m particularly proud of coming from West Flanders, but if you ask me for a reason? Just because. Maybe for that accent everyone is making fun of. I love our healthcare, here everybody is treated seriously. What makes me ashamed? Congo, enough said.

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

Beer, and second hand, wine. We have over 2000 different kinds of beer and even I haven’t tried them all yet.

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

Dutch and French. Typical ‘friendly neighbour teasing’.

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

Honestly, no. I love this tiny weird country with my whole heart.

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

I don’t think it does. Most Americans probably don’t even know Belgium is a country and, honestly, it doesn’t surprise me.

27. favourite national celebrity?

Gotta go with Stromae, he’s quite fun.

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

We do have them all. I haven’t been to Ardennes yet (the mountains), but I’ve been to Kortrijk and there’s the Leie river there and I love it. This river starts in France, though.

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

Haha tell me something about it. Flanders and Wallonia, it’s like two separate countries here. Different languages, quite different culture, even different government (!). Only in rare occasions both sides recall they are, in fact, one and the same country and then they unite.

Not to mention Antwerp, which everyone in my country makes fun of.

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

Yes, I do. I have French and British people in my family. My mum is half-German, my dad is half-Dutch. That’s enough.

#survey #themed survey #q&a survey

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1506

what is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? I typically prefer powdered fries, which is really common here. But if I had to get some type of dip it always has to be mayonnaise. I never put my fries anywhere near ketchup. what is a field of study that is of your interest? History, especially social history. I’ve always liked learning about how people lived. But I do enjoy history as a whole and it’s why I used most of my free-choice electives in college for history courses.

do you like to eat stir fry? Yes.

what do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Sometimes I’ll zone out if they’re saying something lengthy and just end up saying “For sure,” to let them know I agree with them lol. Generally though, I don’t think I have any notable habits or quirks. I just try to stay engaged in the conversation as much as possible.

does it bother you when someone cuts you off while walking? Not really? They might be in a hurry and I myself cut people off all the time. It’s much more annoying if it’s in the context of driving.

what color is your mp3? I don’t use one anymore but the iPod I used in my teens was blue.

have you ever laid in a hammock? Sure.

what time of day do you feel mostly at peace? In the evening, starting from the moment I clock out from work and close my laptop.

how has the weather been treating you lately? It’s been weird and unpredictable. The wet season has started and there’ll be days where it’d be cold and I can manage with my fan at the lowest setting; but for other days it will be unbelievably humid to the point of even the floor feeling sticky. But overall, I’m just glad we’re past summer.

have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? how did you cope? The loss of a pet is always tragic. But Kimi’s was probably the heaviest I’ve felt, and to be honest with you I’m still coping with it. On the first monthsary of his death (July 10th) I posted a tribute to him and I will probably keep doing that for every 10th of the month.

what type of curtains do you like? Blackout ones, because I’m not a fan of sunlight/natural light.

what can you go a day without doing? Many things I guess, one of them being drinking soda.

what can’t you go a day without doing? Checking in on my dogs.

what is your ideal weekend like? A trip to the museum would be more than enough for me.

who do you spend most of your time with? Myself. But as for my friends, Angela.

are you into Graphic Novels? Not really. I tried getting into them but they aren’t for me.

do you have a favorite classical composer? Not really. I like some pieces but it’s all very scattered; there isn’t a particular composer that I lean towards.

what type of quality is a must have in a friend? Idk, I don’t really search for certain qualities. If we vibe well then that’s great.

are you any good at reading someones body language? Usually.

where is the farthest you have traveled? Japan.

do people tend to get the wrong idea about you? or is it the other way around? Continued from whenever. What I’ve observed is that they usually get it right from the get-go, which makes sense. It’s very difficult for me to fake things, from my facial reactions to how I interact with people.

have you ever ate a zucchini? I probably have? but maybe not a lot of times.

what type of art would you hang up in your room? Work of friends and loved ones.

what goes good with a nice cold glass of milk? Idk I never have a full glass of it.

what fruit is too sweet to you? I don’t know much about fruits to gauge which taste sweeter than others.

can you whistle an entire song? If I tried hard enough, sure.

#survey #surveys

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mirclealignr · 3 years

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Regulus Black Fluff Alphabet

regulus x gn! reader

requested by anon

warnings; brief mentions of food and anxiety

from this alphabet

A - Affection; how they like to show their love.

Regulus does a lot through touch and reassuring looks/smiles. He finds it hard sometimes to express just how he feels about you, especially considering expressions of love were severely lacking in his life. But when he holds your hand or caresses your face, he feels as if he's spilling all his secrets, and hopes that you understand them.

B - Beauty; what do they especially admire about you?

Your warmth. At first it was practically disarming, but overtime he learned to embrace it and miss it when it was absent, when you were absent. It would be so different to what he was used to, especially with the people closest to him. But he would adore the change that was you.

C - Cuddles; how they like to cuddle you.

Most of the time he likes to have his arms around you, sitting up slightly while you lay against his chest. There's a sense of safety he finds in knowing that you can hear his heartbeat and that it doesn't scare you off. But sometimes, he likes it when you take him in your arms and he can nuzzle in the crook of your neck.

D - Dancing; their favourite place to dance with you.

He is simply a hopeless romantic, and loves to dance with you when it's dark and raining outside, when the two of you are almost completely alone. He loves watching you smile as the rain seeps into your clothes and dampens your hair, and when you rest your head on his chest for some shelter.

E - Excitement; do they get excited with you about things?

Regulus likes to understand things before he gets excited about them with you. If you come running to him with an elated expression and start rambling about whatever brought you this pleasure, he'd want to know why. He'd want to understand you and relate to you. Almost always, he'd become just as excited as you.

F - First Date; your first date together.

The Astronomy Tower. Regulus would want to be alone with you, without prying or judging eyes. It wouldn't be much, maybe some snacks and a drink he brought for you, but he would want to hear you talk and laugh and to see you smile. He'd want to know your likes and dislikes, the memories you cherished, and things you looked back on and laughed at.

G - Goals; do they have things they want to achieve? Do they include you in these things?

For Regulus, his future goals remain largely unclear. Before you, he thought it was simple, but afterwards it would become far more complicated. With the weight of his family, and Sirius' abandonment making it heavier, he would often try to avoid the thought. But if you ever brought it up, he'd tell you that wherever you were, he would be.

H - Honesty; how open are they with you?

Very. Trust is something extremely important to him. While he may not tell you everything the second it happens, he does have every intention of letting you see every side of him, even the parts he wished would vanish from existence. Upon getting to know you, the trials of his family would be revealed slowly, rather than all at once, so he didn't overwhelm you. Of course, he'd be terrified, but he knew it was better that way, and he knew that you would love him all the same.

I - I Love You; do they say it a lot? did they say it first?

Regulus does not say it first, though he'd be sure he felt it first. He confesses straight after you, though, and gradually says it more and more over time. Expressing his feelings would not come easy, and sometimes, rather than tell you how much he appreciated you for listening or how beautiful he thought you were, he simply said 'I love you' in replacement, hoping that it would be enough.

J - Jealousy; do they get jealous?

Not necessarily jealous, but rather insecure. When he sees you laughing with someone else, he'd wonder whether they were better suited to you--they were warmer, more free, happier. Perhaps he brought you down, perhaps he weighed you down, and though he didn't express these insecurities out loud, he'd always seem to be easily read by you. And you'd always be there to reassure him when you needed to.

K - Kiss; their favourite place to kiss you.

Your hands. For Regulus, hands mean so much, represent so much, and yours are his to kiss and hold as much as he pleases. To him it would feel incredibly intimate, despite the fact that your hands can touch others, but that they're only his to kiss and hold. People can always get close, but never as close as he can.

L - Little Spoon; who’s the little spoon?

The majority of the time, you are the little spoon. He likes the idea that he is able to protect you, actually make you feel safe and wanted; it's one of the things he prides himself on. But, there woulds be times when he needed to feel that, and revelled in the warmth of your embrace tightening around him, holding him close.

M - Melody; what’s your song together?

I think your song together would be 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' by The Beatles.

N - Nicknames; do they use nicknames for you?

Yes a few. Some of them would include 'treasure' and/or 'my treasure' because he adores you and could not think of anything better than you. For him, you are what people search for their whole lives, sometimes without ever finding it. And, because he speaks French, ‘mon chéri /ma chérie' for definite.

O - Open Book; how hard was it to get to know them?

It wasn't necessarily hard, just gradual. However, you would have always suspected that Regulus did not have it easy and were content with him going at his own pace, and appreciating that he was brave enough to reveal it all to you. It never seemed too slow, rushed, or overwhelming--he picked his timings well and never let things become too heavy. He'd also be very conscious that everyone had their own burdens, and would make sure he always left time and room for you to air anything you wanted or needed.

P - PDA; how affectionate they are in public.

Not very much at all. He prefers to show you his love when it's just the two of you. But he isn't afraid to let other people know that you're in a relationship, and will often intertwine his fingers with yours, whisper things in your ear, and kiss your temple.

Q - Quirk: a weird but loveable trait of theirs.

He never signs his name, he always signs R.A.B. Even when it's small notes to you, little love letters, or ordinary letters, he will never sign it as Regulus, but with his full initials.

R - Romance; how romantic are they?

So much. He loves leaving you love notes, writing love letters to you, slow dancing with you, playing music for you, watching the stars with you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, snuggling up in bed with you with a good book. He loves to do it all.

S - Secrets; do they keep secrets from you?

Not really. Perhaps only ones he thinks would unnecessarily hurt you, like what his family says about you. He doesn't tell you because he doesn't think it matters, they don't matter to him, only you do, and he wants their words to mean nothing.

T - Thrill; do they like to keep the relationship new and exciting?

He likes to, and he tries. He certainly likes surprising you, even if only to see that smile. He likes taking you places, learning your favourite songs on the piano simply because you like hearing them, taking you on spontaneous trips or dates. He's not on for grand, public gestures, but he still keeps excitement in the relationship his own way. But he also knows when things need to be slow and calm, and doesn't mind it either way.

U - Understanding; how they comfort/support when you’re upset or anxious.

He knows that most things said would be wrong, even if they were intended to be reassuring and understanding. Even when you talk about what's bothering you or don't, it can be hard to say the right thing. So instead, he takes you in his arms, rubs your back, kisses your cheek and gets you any comfort foods that you wish for. Sometimes, words speak far less than actions.

V - Vexed; how easily they lose their temper.

With his family, and even with Sirius, Regulus can lose his temper very quickly, but you understand that their relationship has not been easy, nor do you care for his family. With you, it's rare that he loses his temper or raises his voice at you. When he does, there are usually other factors that have contributed to his mood, and he is quick to apologise afterwards.

W - Weakness; what’s their weakness what it comes to you?

Your smile. So easily it can make him feel like he's falling from the stars, watching the constellations become smaller and smaller as he slips into the earth's atmosphere, burning and smiling and falling completely in love with you every time he sees it.

X - Xtra; random hc about them.

Regulus likes to speak in French to you when there are things he is too afraid to say or things he thinks sound more romantic when said in another language. Even if you can understand him, there's something less nerve-racking about saying it in French, it's almost like he's playing himself in another world, but still hopelessly in love with you.

Y - Years to Come; how they imagine your future together.

He doesn't like to think about the future often because he knows how easily it can change and fail to meet your expectations. He only hopes that he is with you, facing whatever is to come. He prefers to focus on the present, where he already is with you.

Z - Zzz; how they are when they sleep.

Incredibly still, almost scarily still. The only time he moves is to be closer to you, closer to your exuding warmth. It almost frightens you to move in case it wakes him or disturbs him, but if it does, he never lets on. - - - fill in this form or send an ask to be added to a tag list <3 forever friends; @myalupinblack / @selenes-sun / @vixxiann /@queen-asteria04 / @lillict / @savingpluto /@theincredibledeadlyviper / @pad-foots / @fizzleberries / @willowbleedsonpaper / @kinkyduuh harry potter; @fuckingbloodyhello / @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts / @scvrllet / @dreamerinthesun / @crazy-beautiful / @chaoticgirl04 /@cupids-crystals / @fandom-life-12 / @mypainistemporary-blog /@oliverwoodmarrymepls / @eunoniaa / @missryerye marauders era; @spxllcxstxr / @natashxromanovfreads / @ch /@sereinegemini / @helen-with-an-a / @sweeter-than-strawberries /@spxncervibes regulus black; @jackys-stuff-blog / @with-love-anu / @yinrose98 /@tarorootboba / @lyaseille / @bloodblossom73

#regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus x reader #regulus x y/n #regulus x you #regulus fluff

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plots-and-prompts · 2 years

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Small Excerpt #30

Requested prompt, edited to remove triggering language: hi there !! can you write a prompt(s) idea where two characters meet at one’s low point along with some dialogue ? Both never met.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, that wasn’t meant to be a reflexive, customer service “hi, how are you?” I’m genuinely asking, ‘cause, for the record, people who are fine don’t usually sit up in a children’s playground set to cry alone.”

“Fine. I’m upset. But I don’t know you, so it’s really none of your business. I don’t want to talk about it”

“I get it, I get it,” they hold up their hands in mock surrender. “Do you mind if I join you, though? This is sort of my thinking spot.”

“...Are you serious?”

“We don’t have to talk, at least not about what you’re dealing with. Promise. In fact, we can have a philosophical conversation about what it is about playgrounds at night that make them the best place to do some thinking.”

They couldn’t help but give a small quirk of the lip. “It’s probably the solitude,” they sniffed.

“Mm, maybe. Worth testing out though, wouldn’t you say? There’s a vending machine over there. How about some drinks and snacks on me?”

“Why are you doing all this? I told you, you don’t know me.”

“No, but I know where you’re coming from. You’re not alone. Consider me just a physical reminder of that”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Word of The Day　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Legerdemain (n. French, 15th century): Sleight of hand, or the use of one’s hands when performing magic tricks

#request #prompt #prompts #writing prompt #writing #creative writing #writers #inspiration #writing inspiration #small excerpt #excerpt #writing excerpt #Word of the day #writblr

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cigarettesandslushies · 3 years

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destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms

word count: 1,700

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

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