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lambkiin · 1 year

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Late Nights at the Diner

Roach (Trailer Park of Terror) x AFAB!Reader

Tags; Roach 😳, quickie, two uses of degrading name calling, mutual masturbation, p in v sex, in the back of a car, a few minor timeskips because I’m insane

I will fix the “read more” formatting when I have access to a PC.

AN: First attempt at writing a fic for Roach, I think it turned out fairly well. If some sentences look weird I powered through writing this with a awful crick in my neck, have mercy. Enjoy and have fun!

I’ll also mention that the character and I are both from the deep south, so the dialogue won’t always make a whole lotta sense sound wise unless you’re aware of all the different ways we pronounce “you” down here.

Dawn was drawing close, it was nearly 3:30am. You parked your Mustang near the front door of the joint, climbing out and shutting the door with a metallic click. Sighing softly, you checked the pockets of your stained work apron. You looked around at your surroundings after locating your cash, checking out all the vehicles in the lot.

One car in particular caught your eye, it…was certainly something along the lines of junker. There was a skull and crossbones spray-painted to the side, as well as some words you couldn’t exactly make out in the dark. “Promisin’ crowd…” You muttered, sluggishly making your way to the entrance.

You were somewhat of a regular here, being thrown an excited wave by the waitress, Fiona. Knowing by now you could sit where you pleased, you returned her wave and went to sit at your usual spot- well, this isn’t going as planned. Speechless, you were completely frozen, your shocked eyes locked onto the man before you.

He sat with an arm thrown over the booth, and a cig hanging from his lips. He was also aware of his surroundings, you wanted to pass out as he turned his head towards you.

“Need somethin’ darlin’?” He quirked a brow, subtle smirk pulling onto his face. Geez, for a man who looks like he’d just changed the oil in a car…he was- very attractive. You opened your mouth, but he beat you to it. “M’ I in yer spot? Sorry ‘bout that. Why don’cha join me? I don’t bite.” He gave you a toothy grin, gesturing to the booth across from himself.

It was something about the way he spoke to you that just went straight down- oh shut up. You don’t even know his name! Fuck it, you’ve got nothing to lose. You gave him a small smile, sliding into the booth he’d offered.

“Thank you, er…?” You tilted your head up to the man, taking in his features proper.

“Names Roach, no it’s not a nickname either.” He put out his cigarette in the tables ashtray, having noticed your nostril twitching.

“Roach, I like it…rolls off the tongue.” You grinned, genuinely finding charm in the mans off the wall name.

“Ya gonna tell me yer name? Or am I jus’ gonna have’ta call ya beautiful all night?” He was far too good at these lines, it was doing its job in making you blush. You let out an embarrassed cough, composing yourself.

“Y/n, do ya do this with everyone at the diner?” You snorted, leaning towards him with your chin resting against your palm.

“Don’ think any of them truckers are as pretty as you, hm? I’ll blame it on luck I ran into ya tonight.” His eyes drifted to the side, then back to you. “Ready to order?”

Somehow it hadn’t been long between your arrival and his, you ordered together. You were now finishing up your coke, picking up one of the remaining fries to eat.

Fiona walked over once again. “One ticket or two?” She asked, unsure if you had been meeting him here or if it was chance. Roach spoke up right before you could, that award-winnin’ grin spread across his face.

“Just one, thank ya.” Fiona nodded in response, walking away to get the ticket squared away. Roach pulled out his wallet, ready to pay for the meal.

“You don’t have to do that, let me pay my part.” Your brows turned upwards, reaching for your folded stack of tips.

“My mama taught me better’n that, darlin’. Hell, ya could get any man to pay yer way with looks like that.” He sent you a wink. Lord almighty, you weren’t usually one for a quick fuck- but maybe you’ll indulge. Fiona brought your one ticket, accepting the cash from Roach. She turned to you, offering another wave of goodbye.

You and Roach stepped out into the cool nights air together, stopping for a moment while he lit up another cigarette. “Which one is yours? Vehicles- I mean.” You asked, watching as he took a deep drag off the cig.

“Mine? Oh- that one there…towards the side.” Of course the one from earlier was his, it matched him far too well.

“I suppose everything about ya is eye-catching, huh? Doin’ anything after this?” You boldly asked, one and obvious intention in mind, it was 4am. Roach nearly choked on smoke, eyes darting towards you and as wide as dinner plates. He regained his cool just as fast as he’d lost it, ready to throw down more of his smooth-talker lines.

“What for? Wanna see the interior?” He smirked, letting his cigarette hang from his mouth like it had been a half hour ago.

“Somethin’ like that. God, you look so good like that.” You muttered without even thinking, drawing closer to him for warmth in the wind.

“Well come on over then, darlin’.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked you towards his car. You’d just realized how tall he was, at least a foot taller than yourself, you fit so wonderfully into his side. It didn’t take too long to reach the edge of the parking lot, taking in the somewhat endearing sight of his beater. “The grand tour…” His arm left your shoulders, pulling the back door open. He gestured for you to get in, taking the cigarette from his lips and stomping it out on the gravel.

You slid into the back seat, kicking a few bottles as you did so. The interior was in shockingly good condition for what the outside looked like. Roach followed in after you, shutting the door behind himself. “This what ya wanted, baby? Takin’ ol’ Roach in the back of ‘is Buick like a whore?” The car was perfect for you, but he looked just a bit too tall for it.

“Doesn’t sound too bad.” You turned towards him, crawling forward. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pushed him against the same door he’d just closed. “Bet you’ll be the whore beggin’ fer more when I’m done with ya.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his very much exposed neck.

“Bold claim, darlin’, but I like yer enthusiasm.” He complied as you pulled his unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders, grabbing and prodding at his arms along the way.

“Oh you’ll see, sweetheart.” You whispered quietly to him, taking his jaw into your hand. You tilted his head back, your glossed lips pressing into his rougher ones. Roach hummed into the kiss feeling your other hand tugging at his tank top. He removed his arms from the holes, breaking the kiss so you could pull it completely off of him.

“Angels above…” You muttered to yourself, taking in just how beautiful his body was. You moved your head down, leaving faint kisses from his jaw to his chest. “You are just…somethin’ else.” The compliments came so easily when it came down to it, you were absolutely letting yourself fall in love with this smooth-talking stranger. Your hands brushed over his ribs, sides, his softer torso…committing every bit of it to memory.

Roach was becoming putty in your hands, he’d expected you to get straight to business. He didn’t know what to say to all this seemingly genuine affection he was receiving. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that ta butter me up.” He chuckled, pushing a stray hair from your eyes. He was bricked into oblivion with the gentleness, and the situation all together.

You brought your head back up to eye level with him, cupping his cheeks and staring for but a moment. “I’m not ‘jus’ sayin’’ it, I mean it. Ya may as well be the mos’ gorgeous man I ever did lay eyes on.” You raked your hands through his sandy brown mullet, going in to steal another one of his gentle kisses. “Do you still want this?”

“More than ever, darlin’. How could I deny ya anythin’ with how sweet yer bein’ to me.” He showed off that toothy grin again, making your heart flutter.

You reached down, undoing the silver buckle at his hips. Surprised at this point he hadn’t asked you to remove your own clothing, he seemed to be entirely distracted by your face. The expression on his face was damn near lovesick, suppose he was letting himself get invested just like you were.

After successfully getting his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, you tugged them down a bit bringing his undergarments with. Your face reddened upon catching a glimpse of his hardened cock, not having expected it look that…fulfilling.

“Damn, pretty boy. Like I said before, everythin’ about ya is eyecatchin’ as can be.” You untied your apron, grabbing it and the hem of your dress to pull it all off. Thankfully it was a day you’d chosen not to wear one of those horrifically uncomfortable things called a bra. You watched with a small giggle as Roach’s eyes dropped to your now exposed chest.

“Ain’t tha’ somethin’….shiyt.” That was probably the most emphasis you’d ever heard anyone use on the word shit, he was awestruck- thats for sure. You lifted up one leg at a time, figuring out the least awkward way to remove your own undergarments. “You are right beautiful yerself, darlin’. I ain’t seen nothin’ like ya before, and I’m hopin’ ta see ya again…” He admitted, reaching out to touch on your hips and thighs.

“See me again? Of course, sweetheart.” You settled between his legs, your own draped over his thighs. “Give me….jus’ a second.” The angle would be somewhat awkward if you didn’t do this part yourself, may as well give the man a show out of this. As much as he’s already getting.

He watched your lowers with wide eyes as your own hand trailed to it. “Oh, mama.” He whined, his cock twitching with anticipation.

You ran a few quick strokes over your clit, reaching back further to push two of your own fingers into your entrance. Your face contorted with desperation as you stretched yourself open, fingers slipping in and out.

Roach huffed a breath, reaching for his strained hardness and grabbing at the tip. “Ya just know exactly what yer doin’, don’cha?” He chuckled, that noise turning into a soft moan as he dragged his hand down his length.

You continued for a moment longer, removing your hand and looking up. Roach met your gaze, he’d stroked himself at the same pace you’d been working. “You…ready?” You asked breathlessly, receiving a quick and violent nod in response. “Alright…”

One hand met his shoulder for stability, the other was grabbed by him. “Not gonna let this go ta waste, right?” He brought your fingers towards his face, the same ones you’d just used on yourself. Your face darkened by shades as he took those two fingers into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the underside of them. You could feel the furnace inside yourself well up again, the hand on his shoulder moving to line him up with your entrance.

The moan Roach let out was guttural, the depth vibrating the fingers he still had in his mouth. You removed them, planting the hand over his chest. You sank down onto him slowly, really just making sure the preparation was good enough. Low and behold, that- along with the ocean down there was plenty enough. “You have been far too good to me tonight, darlin’.” He whined, resting his grip comfortably on your hips.

“It’s the sweet talk, and those devilish- good looks.” You stumbled over your words, his cock finally bottoming out inside you. “Oh, Roach. Fuck-“ You moaned out, raising yourself up again and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby- you feel s’good.” His large hands clung to your hips, not quite bruising but not gentle either. “D’ya need help?” He asked, feeling your legs shake against him.

“Maybe, christ.” You tried to continue the pace yourself, the sensation of Roach joining in the efforts reaching your core. “Oh god.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss.

Your bodies moved in succession, all you could hear was his loud moans, your own, and the cars suspension squeaking away. “Y- Yer fuckin’ me so good, doll- ain’t never felt nothin’ like this.” He held you comfortingly close as the pace got sloppier and sloppier.

You buried your hand into his hair, tugging at it ever-so-slightly. “Roach…sweetheart- m’gonna…oh fuck.” A curse cut off your words, you ground down on him as well as you could. “M’gonna cum…” You muttered into the crook of his neck.

“M’too doll, feels so fuckin’ good.” His head leaned back into the window, heavy breaths and whimpers escaping his throat. “Jus’ a little longer-“ He near pleaded, still thrusting his hips in tandem with yours.

Your moans got more frantic as he reached deeper and deeper within you, that feeling in your stomach coiling up.

“Faster! Faster-“ You breathed out, feeling him speed up beneath you. “Fuck!” He could feel the building coil himself.

“S’it okay if I- cum-“ He was having trouble with his words, you knew what he was talking about.

“Yes, yes- cum inside me, sweetheart.” You were on the pill, you wanted that intimacy with him. As soon as you’d said it, his pace picked up furiously. “OH baby-“

You both moaned out loudly as he thrusted one last time, your orgasm hit you like a bag of rocks. You could feel the warmth of his own orgasm seeping inside of you. There was a moment of silence as you both rode out your endings, heavy breaths being the only noise.

You rested your forehead against his, making eye contact as your bodies shuddered in ecstasy.

“Think’m in love with ya, doll.” He muttered, squeezing your hips. His face was flushed, and he looked as beautiful as always.

“Me too, sweetheart. Y’got a landline number? An address?” You asked, leaning your body fully against his.

”I got an address, got somethin’ to write it down?”

“Oh I’ll remember.”

“Good memory, huh. I like that in’a person.”

#roach x reader #roach trailer park of terror #trailer park of terror #roach smut #technically slasher #he’s not a satan pawn yet in this fic though #don’t be shy #watch the movie #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

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romeo must die

this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"

content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.

"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.

"Surely you could spare a few moments."

"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.

"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.

“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”

He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”

Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”

“Must you act so childish?”

He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”

“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”

Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”

“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”

“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”

“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”

“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”

Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”

Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.

“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”

Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.

Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.

“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.

“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-”

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”

“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”

“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”

“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”

“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”

“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”

“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”

“I can’t go back in there, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”

Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”

Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”

“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”

Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”

“I tried.”

“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He shook his head.

“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.

“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.

Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #if you're a charles apologist just block me #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #cw toxic relationship #coi spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic

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cozycryptidcorner · 3 years

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Kinktober 3: Naga/Semi-public

Tags: naga, semi-public, is there a word for female cockwarming? pussy warming??? idk, uhhh, yeah

You don’t know why you find the upper levels of the library so enticing. Once the archives are closed, no one very much cares to venture up to the near-attic, the scent of carefully dusted wood calming after a day of stressing over whatever class you feel like you’re falling behind in. Up here in the rafters, surrounded by ancient scripture and stories of lands almost forgotten, you can slip out of your mind and focus solely on what you must.

Okay, well, scratch that, maybe you do know why you like it up here. Thunder roars in the near distance, shockwaves of sound vibrating against the windows and stone of the walls. It doesn’t take too much of a temperature shift outside to suck out all the heat through the thin sheet of glass separating you from the raging storm, and by the way a frigid nose pokes beneath your skirt, someone doesn’t find the cold as enticing as you.

With a steady hand, you turn the page of your textbook, eyes scanning the page as a scaled tail wraps around your ankle. Tapping your pen against your notebook, you practically glare at the illustration, trying to ignore the imploring fingers slipping beneath your underwear. All you offer in response is a quick shift of your hips to ease his struggle, his breath almost cool against the wetness between your thighs.

“Malak,” you half-whisper, tangling your fingers in his white hair. “You said you would help me study.”

“I’m cold, baby,” he hums in response, hiking up your skirt further up to your waist. Teeth graze against your inner thigh, nothing more than a playful nip, but it melts your insides down to a boiling point. “Let me warm up first.”

Swallowing thickly, you only turn back to your schoolwork, trying to angle yourself on the chair in a way that lets you spread your legs as far as necessary. Focus, focus, focus, your mind chants as his tongue slowly teases the skin around your lips. Intention when casting runes is just as important as the markings themselves; to fully produce their desired effect, one must-

A burst of pleasure runs up the length of your spine; you have to catch yourself before you let out a sobbing whimper. Malak’s tongue has graced your clit with its presence, his bright blue eyes looking up from under the table with a sly triumph. Clamping your mouth shut, you turn back to your work, trying to focus on making a flashcard with the proper vocab words as he spreads the skin of your pussy out.

Trying to keep your voice steady, you say, “what are the three virtues one must exhibit while casting runes?”

“Clarity,” he kisses your slit, “focus,” another kiss, “and aplomb.”

“Good,” you manage to get yourself under control, taking a sip out of your thermos, “glad to see you’re keeping up.”

He makes a purring noise, flattening his tongue and licking from top to bottom, little sparks of thrill running through your core. Then, just to be infuriating, you think, he lets out a small whimpering noise that sets your entire being on edge. Still, there’s no one around to hear his little show of subjugation, so you decide to let it slide.

Up, down, up, down, a smile on his face as you wrap a leg around his cool back.

Keeping your voice under control, you look over your notes. “What is considered the rune for this modern age?”

He waits for a beat, flicking his tongue against your opening, then says, “Synthetic Moderna.”

You shudder as he delves back down, but you have to nod your head. “Ri-right. What about- what about the Acadian Revival?”

“A period in the nineteenth century revolving around the idea that older magicks were somehow better than modern- do I have that right?” Without waiting for your answer, his mouth closes on the upper part of your pussy, slowly pushing his tongue between your folds, sliding it back and forth against your clit.

You suck in your breath. “Y-yeah, that’s it exactly.” Trying to convince your quivering core that everything is alright and you don’t have to pay attention to what’s happening between your legs, you turn the page, eyes dancing over the chapter for more important information. “And what put the Acadian magic back into obscurity?”

You think you can feel his eyes rolling, but you’re so focused on the letters in your book that you don’t look. “Older magic was useful for the older world. New technologies mean new uses that don’t coincide with those ancient concepts.”

“Yes, that’s- that’s correct.” You don’t understand how he can be so very casual about everything while his tongue slowly probes your entrance, nor could you ever fathom why he might not insist you pay his own body any mind. Still, you suppose that you’re grateful for the release.

“Have I earned my prize yet?” He asks, batting his pale, thick eyelashes at you.

“Not yet,” your chest is tight, your core even hotter. “We need to get through this unit first.”

“Mmph,” he complains against your pussy, taking one of your lips and nipping gently with his fangs.

You don’t want to ask him for any more information, mostly because his face feels awfully nice against your throbbing core, but you also don’t want him to flunk out, no matter how much he seems to know his stuff, he has a nasty habit of not showing up to exams. “Who is an influential figure that began the development of Synthetic Moderna?”

He shivers against your body, tail wrapping up your shin and closing in on your knee. “Alphonsa Rodrigez.”

For being at the mercy of someone hellbent on making you cum, you think you’re doing an outstanding job at ignoring him… until his fingers become involved. Your vision blurs despite your desperate attempts to focus on anything and everything but him. Clearing your throat, you continue, “and what exact discovery did Doctor Rodrigez discover?”

He moans into your pussy, his throat rumbling low and sweet. Now that his fingers are involved, the stroking of your clit doesn’t cease when he looks back up at your face, “isn’t she the one who came up with the three virtues?”

You inhale sharply as he presses his thumb into your slit, but say, “no, she wasn’t the one to finalized the three virtues into mainstream practices… it has to do with the idea of clarity, though.”

“Oh,” he says, realization in his eyes as he offers a kiss to your thigh, “right, wasn’t she involved in the development of neural observation when it came to the actual casting?”

“Ye-Es!” Your voice lilts and almost becomes a whine as Malak, the fucking bastard, closes his mouth around your clit and sucks just as you open your mouth. You clap your hands over your mouth, face red, hoping desperately that no one heard. Judging by the lusty smile on his face, he knows what he did, and you feel the urge to smack him upside the head. ” Malak!”

“Careful, baby,” he says, infuriatingly quiet, “someone might hear you.”

As though the universe heard his words and decided that it would be super funny to turn against you in the worst way imaginable, you hear footsteps. Sucking in air, you’re quick to fix your posture, wrapping your legs around Malak’s neck in the hopes of keeping him still. Despite the hazy layer of sweat on your temple, you think, you hope that you don’t look like… well, like someone is mouth fucking you beneath the table.

“Are you alright?” A head pokes out from the back, eyebrows raised. A grad student you recognize, he’s one of the TA’s in your least favorite class this semester, though you’d never tell him that.

Silently, you thank every god who might have brought the desk you’re sitting at because it’s one of the older fashioned ones, the kind that closes off and hides whatever might be underneath from passersby. Briefly, you wonder if the person who first made them had this exact reason behind it. Malak’s tongue doesn’t give you an ounce of reprieve, working almost harder to flush your face, hoping with all the power in his fingers that you might squeal with pleasure.

But you’re stronger than that, more determined than he, so you offer up a casual smile and a noncommittal shrug. “Sorry, Martin, I saw a spider. You know how I am with those.”

“Ri-ight,” he says, drawing out the center syllable for longer than you would like. Maybe he’s just mocking you for the phobia? “Of course, sorry for interrupting.”

“Oh, I’m just studying-”

“Of course, goodbye.” And just like that, his head ducks back between the books, gone and embarrassed for reasons you don’t want to think about. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a tail poking out from where the wooden board almost meets the floor, thrashing about like in some kind of distress. Or some sort of perverse pleasure.

You don’t have time to feel shameful because Malak is attacking your body with a much more vicious gusto than you had thought him capable of… okay, well, maybe not, but you did think he would at least wait until the study session was over. Steadily, with so little mercy, he sucks on your clit directly; you have to bite down on your hand to keep from crying out.

Even if you offer up a meager question, you know that he’s so focused on your pleasure that he couldn’t be bothered to answer. You’re almost afraid that you might be squeezing his head too tightly, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the least, arm snaking around one of your legs to shift and position however he needs. Out away, then back closer when a chill of coldness threatens his delicate skin.

He’s sucking now, sucking on your clit, except it’s not like those quick, kissing motions; it’s full-on, and your vision tangles with a web of black. Everything in your core is tight, hot, yet Malak is cool enough to tie your body down to the mortal plane, even if he’s relentlessly licking like his life depends on your orgasm. And there, you can feel it coiling in your stomach. You have to bite down on your sleeve lest you start whining like a pup. With your other hand, though, you rake your fingers through his hair.

Now he’s looking at you, crystalline eyes filled to the brim with smug satisfaction. Still, his tongue moves against your lower regions with the skill of a well-seasoned whore, a kind of his own desperation on his face. Almost like his very being depends on your pleasure. He gently pushes a finger into your pussy, curving it slightly to hit that one specific spot, then slowly begins to massage your inner walls, and you are over.

You can feel the beginning of the orgasm creep up inside your core, small tendrils of pleasure reaching out through your nerves. The steady building turns into waves, though, morphing from a modest sort of feeling to something large, bright, and overshadowing everything else. Something slick and hot rushes through your pussy, trickling out and into Malak’s eager and waiting mouth.

The sounds he makes while drinking your cum are obscene, even though he tries to keep quiet, just as you asked. But he doesn’t slow down and instead lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, tongue still licking and mouth continuously kissing despite your body’s slow decline off that high. Everything in your body seems to shut off, muscles relaxing as the final rolls of pleasure ebb away, until you’re barely nothing more than a shivering, boneless mass on the chair.

He crawls up your body then, every movement with purpose and vigor. He kisses your stomach, a shiver pulsing out from it, then up your sweater, pausing at your collarbone, then goes to your neck. You wrap your arms around his torso and your legs around his waist, snuggling up against his solid, large body to ground yourself.

“Babe?” He asks.

“Yeah?”

“What leap of advancement does Synthetic Moderna have over its many predecessors?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Incorrect! That's a penalty."

#naga/reader #exophilia #naga #monster lovers #monster/reader #kinktober #story

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honeytea8 · 4 years

Text

✨✨La Squadra Boyfriend Headcanons✨✨

[Alexa, play Boyfriend by Big Time Rush]

Guys, I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about La Squadra, so here are some bf headcanons for the sexiest group of assassins in Naples. No one asked but I am bringing it straight to your dash anyway! (under the cut for length lmao)

I’m going to start with Prosciutto, who has recently fallen on my radar pretty heavy!

He’s a good and decent boyfriend, if not a busy one. Not that he doesn’t care about the relationship, but most of his energy was going to Passione things before you waltzed in and so he’ll struggle a bit between his work responsibilities and maintaining his relationship with you, but only in the beginning.

If you are also a part of Passione, it’s a hell of a lot easier to manage.

I see Prosciutto as the gift-giving type: lingerie, sweets, perfume, designers, etc. His salary isn’t the best, but he manages it as well as he can just to accommodate you!

I just can’t get the idea out of my head that Pro was raised by a strict mama, that’s why he can be a bit of a stickler sometimes. He’ll catch you still lounging in bed at nine am, and be like “Why are you still in bed? Get dressed, we’re going out.” Dude!

I’m sorry to say, but Prosciutto is absolutely the ‘lecturing’ type. (He lectured someone in nearly every scene in the anime, Formaggio once and Pesci numerously and Bucci too)

He will lecture you when you make mistakes, especially because as his s/o, he has high expectations for you and believes you’re capable of so much more. It’s never, ever out of hate. He loves you, and that’s why he chides you a bit lol.

This does not negate the fact that he doesn't mind when you lean on him for support. He likes when you count on him, because he always comes through especially for you!

Depending on whether you’re in the mafia or not, I totally see him sparring with you, or working out with you in an effort to make you tough. Prosciutto wants you to be able to defend yourself, just in case. If you complain, he’ll tell you, “Better safe than sorry, tesoro”.

Prosciutto will respect you, period.

A good listener, goddamn! He’s up there with Risotto when it comes to who listens to their s/o more! If you have an issue, he’ll hear you out and offer advice if you want it. If you give him advice, he’ll take it into serious consideration. He’s honestly a good partner, can’t stress that enough.

Finally, sex with Pro is an entire event. Romantic dinner, candles lit, wine, the whole nine yards before he gives you nine inches of something else :) (I’m kidding!! Lmao, kinda).

But as I said, Prosciutto is quite deliberate, and a bit of a perfectionist. He knows what to do and how to do it, you can trust him.

Ghiaccio is next only because he’s my favorite.

The ice gremlin is probably the most interesting (and hilarious) boyfriend out of the bunch (I say this with only a tidbit of bias). He isn’t funny himself, but funny shit just happens to him.

Because of this, he will use you as a soundboard when everyone else refuses to listen to him. He’s got a lot to say, so be prepared for his TEDtalks. LMAO!

It will take some perception on your part to notice when he actually expects a response from you, and other times he’s just ranting to get his point out.

He will correct your grammar when you text, but barely notices when he makes a similar mistake (his brain moves in mph). Please use the proper names like Venezia, Italia, Roma and Napoli when talking to this man; save yourself from the headache.

When it comes to dates, please have mercy on him, he’s a textbook over-thinker! You’ll just have to plan something simple at home for you both to enjoy.

He isn’t incapable of planning dates, but he’ll want everything to be so absolutely perfect for his s/o and will throw a fit when it ultimately isn’t.

Contrary to popular belief, I think that Ghiaccio is a pretty attentive partner. He’s super intelligent and I think a part of it stems from his innate ability to read people (I’m referencing the part in the anime where he deduced what Giorno and Mista had come to look for, while going off very little information).

The more time he spends with you, the better he gets at it.

His form of affection will be shown through the amount of time you both spend together. When it comes to sex or anything related to that, be gentle and slow as Ghiaccio will likely be a flustered mess.

As he becomes more comfortable and confident, he will be bolder and just ask out right if you’ll suck him off tonight or not. The man appreciates directness, so don’t bother being coy. “You want me to give you head? Cool, lay down a towel or something.” is what he’ll probably say.

Very practical 👌🏾👌🏾

Melone, good lord, he’s kind of perfect.

A bit of a doting boyfriend here and there—very much concerned about your health. Expect him to ask if you’ve eaten, or taken your multivitamin. How are your bowel movements? LMAO

It can become a bit much, but he really genuinely cares. He’s not asking to be intrusive or nasty! If he was, you’d know. 🤣

But I seriously consider Melone to be the one (at least among La Squadra) who is way, way invested in his relationships. He will know every little detail about you; will ask you lots of questions and expects you to ask him just as many.

This may be annoying to some, but this dude will definitely bring up your horoscope in an argument. He’ll be like “I honestly can’t fathom why you’re being this way, though it’s to be expected from a libra.”

Peg this bitch so he can shut up.

Melone is also touchy as hell, but not in a clingy way. He loves touching, and just to tag onto the headcanon about his partial blindness, I want to say that he’s so touchy because that’s how he ‘sees’ you best.

Just know that half the time, he isn’t touching you to be lecherous, even if he genuinely does like the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Melone will even encourage you to touch him back.

Rub his thigh or back and he’ll be simping.

He is obsessed with your legs, and will paint your toes if you let him.

LOVES PDA! Melone will also tongue-kiss you in public if you let him!

Notice how I keep saying ‘if you let him’. Give him an inch and he’ll press you for a mile, so if there are boundaries you would like to establish, please do, cuz he sure as hell won’t, just saying!

When it comes to sex, Melone is a dick and coochie sensei. Oral is his favorite thing to do, probably enjoys giving more than receiving to be honest. I’d say he’s pretty much mastered sex for what it is.

That being said, if he’s ever talking out of his neck, just invite him to put his mouth to better use. He’ll even thank you for your gracious request.

Formaggio is next 💀

According to my JoJo compatriots from discord, he’s like the Optimus Prime of fuckboi’s so let’s ride that wave for a bit! LMAO

I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise that Formaggio is pretty shameless. He will send you a dick pic on Sunday morning before church and have the audacity to say “Just wanted to bless you real quick”.

@autumn-kouhai mentioned him giving his s/o sickly sweet pet names and I just have to agree.

Expect to be hit upside the head with: baby-boo, sugar plum, honey bunches, sweetums. I can imagine them becoming really ridiculous too like “the last piece of red velvet cake” or “cheddar bae biscuits from Red Lobster”

His catch phrase is “Got nudes?”

Send them, and he won’t be afraid to reply with something equally sexy.

Be warned though, he will stockpile whatever you send him and then be careless with his phone. If you don’t mind Illuso’s snoopy ass seeing your nudes then by all means, have at it. Otherwise, send them through snapchat, so they disappear later.

As far as La Squadra boyfriends go, he’s the most fun! Y’all don’t even go anywhere because man’s is broke. BUT, Formaggio knows how to have a good time without any need to spend money (my kind of dude tbh) you guys just crank up the tunes, dance, and get lit until the neighbors complain.

Formi is also the CEO of jokes/memes, and will have you in absolute tears almost always! I literally tell my friends that funny guys are so dangerous, don’t sleep on them! They will make you laugh until your panties drop, it’s magic, I swear. Formaggio has that same energy.

No matter how bad of a day his s/o is having, rest assured, he will draw the biggest laugh out of you.

Besides his fuckboi tendencies, his most redeeming quality is the fact that he’s super cool and fun to hang with. You’ll literally have a good time, always, because his energy is right! Very good vibes around this man, I swear! It’ll be exactly like dating your best friend, because essentially, he will be your bestie.

Formi has many moments of tenderness that aren’t sexually charged too—moments where the jokes stop and he’ll just rub your back or feet, this is usually when you aren’t feeling well and need some quiet.

However, Formaggio won’t let you mope all day, he’ll pull out the big guns and call you his “sweetie baby” and when you try to resist he’ll say “What, I’m just tryna show you some love.”

He’s a good dude lmao I’d date a guy like him irl 😭

Pesci stans wya??! Let’s get into this baby boy.

Pesci is boyfriend material, idgaf what anyone says.

He is pretty much the least problematic to be with among all of La Squadra, even more so than Risotto (don’t argue with me).

Pesci is hyper aware of your likes and dislikes and will literally go out of his way to make sure that you’re well and okay.

Arguments are basically nonexistent and if they occur it ain’t coming from his side.

I also think that Pesci has a lot of empathy, so when you’re going through something, he’s right there in the thick of it with you. If you’ve seen that meme that goes ‘when my gf is on her period it’s UterUS’ lmao that’s Pesci’s energy 100%.

Sometimes, he’s more of a lover and not a fight, that is perfectly okay!

However, if someone tries up his s/o, say farewell to Mr. Niceguy. He will defend your honor to his dying breath. And with you in his corner, trust me, he’s not going down.

A romantic at heart, Pesci will plan little date trips like picnics in the park or boat trips to Capri, actually, I’d like to point out that he excels in the art of date planning. If you’re the adventurous type, he’ll plan outings where you both will be more active, like biking through the city or renting a mop-ed and going sight-seeing.

Because Pesci has a sensitive stomach, he’s very much considerate of what you both put in your bodies. If you have dietary restrictions or allergies, this guy knows all about it and will cater to you perfectly.

A true gentleman through and through, he will never force himself on you, ever. In fact, he really doesn’t like engaging in anything sexual when you’re drunk or high, sorry if you’re into that!

Pesci is the kind of guy who keeps up with your favorite shows.

If ya’ll have similar taste in media or literature, he will immerse himself in it so that he can relate to you all the more.

If there’s anyone who will entertain anime-related discourse, no matter how nonsensical, it’s Pesci. And he isn’t just putting up with it, he’s actively engaging in the conversation so you are always heard and validated.

He’s an A+ boyfriend, that’s all I gotta say! Haters can stay mad :)

Goddamn Illuso... idk man.

I really feel like you have to have thick/tough skin to handle this guy, for various reasons.

The first being that Illuso can be a bit mean at first. He’ll push your buttons on purpose just to see what’ll make you tick. Will tease the living heck out of you, always, kind of a bully lmao but not to the extreme, it’s just his brand of humor—and the thing is, he won’t be mad when you dish it right back, so it’s cool.

Secondly, Illuso has big dick energy!!

I mean rightfully so, because he is indeed packing! But my word, he ain’t humble about it at all!

He is not above making jokes about ‘splitting you in half’. In fact all of his jokes have hidden, dirty undertones!

His affection is shown through speech mostly. Illuso will drop subtle innuendos and provocations, half to see you flustered and half because he wants you to know how much he wants you.

Illuso isn’t incredibly vocal about his feelings outside of ‘I’m tryna hit that thang’ but you won’t doubt that he loves you because Illuso doesn’t waste his own time.

If he’s spending his time with you, you can rest assured that it’s because he wants to.

Illuso is a voyeur and you’ll just have to understand/accept that and move on.

He loves watching you and will even creep over to your place through the mirror world just to hang or watch you do chores. Loves to surprise you and give you jump scares lmao it’ll make you a tad paranoid but it’s also fun.

Illuso is prone to random bouts of sweetness; it’s very sporadic, very touch-and-go.

One day, you’ll wake up to chocolates on your dresser or new shoes, lingerie, or makeup if you wear it. I imagine that if you’re low on funds, he will even help you buy your groceries that week.

It’ll surprise the hell out of you, but that’s just how Illuso is. He enjoys keeping you on your toes!

He’s prideful and smug as hell, so he will definitely expect a thank you, because even if he does it out of the kindness in his heart, he also wants to hear that you appreciate him

Same goes for the bedroom scene. Illuso loves making you vocal, it’s his favorite thing in the world, so he’ll make a game out of doing the things that get the biggest reaction out of you. Like I said, it's that big dick energy at work here, smh.

Sorbet and Gelato in a polyamorous relationship with you? Let’s get it!

We don’t get anything substantial about these two except that Sorbet follows the money, so these are all personal headcanons for how I see and write them.

Here’s the juice: when it comes to you as their s/o, these two are possessive as hell. You are theirs and that’s that on that! 😭 Don’t ask questions, just go with it.

Sorbet is the chill one of the duo. He can be a bit smug at times, but he’s mostly a laid back dude who doesn’t get bothered by much.

When it comes to you, Sorbet likes to spend quality time with you more than anything, and will ask you to cook for him at your place so he ain’t gotta spend money. Oh? Did I not mention that I kinda think of him as a cheapskate? Lmao cuz I do.

Sorbet will come by your place just to steal your coupons from the mail then head out; you’re not using ‘em so why should he let them go to waste?

Gelato is the complete opposite; personality wise, I headcanon him as a mix between Melone and Formaggio lmao

But it’s not as crazy as it sounds, he’s cute and outspoken like Melone, while maintaining a free-spirit like Formaggio. One quality that I like is that he’s quite devoted to you and Sorbet. If anyone crosses either of you, goodluck to them!

I like to think Gelato’s also just really boujee and high maintenance. He loves to pamper and be pampered. You and him tag-team Sorbet’s wallet and go on spa dates together at his expense (not that he ever really stood a chance)

While Sorbet is cool with just being in the same room as you, Gelato loves hugging/cuddling with you and Sorbet—will definitely fight for the middle spot between the two of you on the couch during movie nights.

He baby, so let him have it lol

In the bedroom, I would salute anyone with the guts to take the two of them on. They both lay down that work, period.

Sorbet gets his kicks from teasing and edging you (his sadistic side comes out a bit), while Gelato loves when you give him extra TLC. To put it short, they know how to take care of you, so there are no issues there.

Last but not least, Mr. Risotto Nero himself.

Man, idc on the lowest of keys, he seems a little bit like a grandpa to me

The type to sit at home and do crosswords, has a bird feeder in his yard and plays old Italian hits while washing the dishes. It’s very domestic 💀 (I find it cute, whatever!)

As a boyfriend, I can’t imagine him suddenly being spontaneous or outgoing unless you drag him out of his home/comfort zone.

Be patient with Mr. Nero, and he can come to surprise you

After a while, it won’t be just you dragging him out and about; one day he’ll ask you to come over and you’ll be greeted with a nice, traditional, homemade meal

Pay attention and you will notice him watching your face to see if you like his cooking 🥺

After seeing his fight with Doppio, I must admit that Risotto is very, very observant, almost scarily so.

I can totally picture him pointing out random things about his s/o that even they don’t know

One night, Risotto may come up to you and say “I talked to your neighbor about the dog, they’ll keep it inside now.” And you’re just staring like 😳 how did he know the barking was keeping you up at night????

He’s sweet, and will take good care of you as a boyfriend should.

Very good listener, won’t talk as much but will hang on to your every word, I promise. He could even recite it to you verbatim.

He’s a big dude, that ain’t news, so expect to be swallowed up in hugs and sometimes even picked up (as a tall girl myself, I simp!!!)

Gives A1 piggyback rides, lol

ALSO RISOTTO IS HUMBLE ASF!

Big dick energy, but on low volume 👏🏾 after all, he doesn’t need to do much talking, because a night with him is more than enough!

Listen babe, you better stretch, do some squats, and prep in whatever way you can before Mr. Nero gives you that work. 🤐

Lowkey a freak, but it’s well hidden behind his ‘quiet giant’ exterior

So, who are y'all dating? Personally, I’m going for Formaggio and Pesci hehe

#jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #vento aureo #la squadra #prosciutto #illuso #formaggio #melone #risotto nero #pesci #ghiaccio #gelato and sorbet #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra di esecuzione #jojo headcanons #la squadra x reader #jojo part 5

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Note

Soft prompt idea: First time Lambert's SO tells him "I love you" ❤

A/N: I AM ON FUCKING FIRE TODAY and I’m so happy 🙂 I hope you like this babe!! Also this might be a little OOC for Lambert, but he’s being a softy in this so it really is OOC for him to be a big softy but that’s okay because we love him anyways!

***

Lambert followed a few paces behind you, guiding Champion by his reins.

The three of you were traveling through a swampy area in Velen. Lambert promised you on this part of your journey that you’d be able to take a little bit of time in the swamp to collect whatever herbs and things you wanted while you were passing through. You were excited. The swamps held so many wondrous things you couldn’t find in the North.

The witcher made sure to follow behind you, but not too far behind you. He wanted to be able to keep his eyes peeled for any signs of danger without his paranoid behavior distracting you.

You came to a stop, pulling the knife on your hip out. You stepped off of the small dirt path, picking up your skirt as best as you could with one hand, and moved towards a large rock covered in moss.

“Watch where you’re stepping, bug.”

“I am.” You knelt down by the rock and examine the moss. “Can you hand me one of the empty jars from my satchel?”

Lambert moved around to Champion’s side, opening your satchel and digging around inside for a moment to find an empty little jar.

“Is this one good?” He asked, holding up a relatively small jar.

“Yes, that works. Thank you.”

Once he passed it to you, you were able to scrape off enough moss to fill the jar.

“What is that for?”

“Moss is good for lots of stuff.” You passed the jar to him. “Coughs. Covering wounds.”

Lambert furrowed his brows together for a moment.

“Isn’t that what bandages are for?”

“Yes.” You grinned just a little. “Don’t question my ways, Master Witcher. I don’t question your methods, do I?”

The corners of his lips tugged up a little as he gave Champion’s reins a little tug to continue following you.

You lifted your skirts up and stepped into a rather deep mud puddle, sinking a few inches into the dark brown substance.

Lambert chuckled a little.

“What’s so funny?” You asked him, moving between a couple trees to get to a fern bush.

“You always get after me when I get mud on my boots.”

“Because you don’t take them off at the door and wear them through my house.” You shot him a look. “And most of the time, you boots stink of rotten corpses.”

“It’s not my fault the dead monster juices get everywhere.” He muttered.

Your nose scrunched up at his choice of words.

You gathered what you needed from the fern bush and began to make your way back to him.

“Please never describe it that way ever again, Lambert.”

He grinned, happy with himself, and took the fern pieces from you to put into a sachet.

A little while had passed and you found quite a lot of ingredients for your work. A peaceful silence had fallen between you and Lambert. He’d pull out a jar or sachet whenever you needed it and then put it away for you.

You couldn’t find the right words to describe how happy you were that he was okay with this. Previous lovers had all looked down on you going out and getting dirty in the woods for plants and rocks. Some even discouraged you from doing so even though it was a necessary part of your job.

As the end of the swamp came into sight, you moved on to the dirt path to walk alongside Lambert. You looked over to him, chewing on your bottom lip. He met your gaze, confused.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, smiling a little. “Just…. Thank you for doing this with me.”

“I wasn’t going to let you come out here alone.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And we were passing through anyway.”

You nodded your head a little.

***

When nightfall came, you were lucky enough to find an inn. While Lambert went to stable Champion, you had a bath drawn.

You were absentmindedly dragging the soapy washcloth up and down your arm when there was a knock on the door to the room.

“Bug?”

“In here, Lambert.” You lifted your head, sitting up a little straighter.

He walked in, closing the door behind himself.

“I was gonna go down to our room, but there’s a lot of unsavory folk lingering around in the halls and I’d hate to have to skip town tonight ‘cause one of them decided to do something stupid.” He said, leaning against the door.

“I’ll be done in just a few minutes.” You told him, picking up the chunk of soap sitting on the side of the tub. You got the washcloth nice and soapy again before you went back to work on cleaning yourself.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, bug.” Lambert commented.

You looked up at him for a moment, then brought your eyes back down to your leg.

“Usually you talk my damn ear off.”

“Just…. Thinking.”

Your tone was off. You had been thinking all evening. He knew something was wrong, that there was something on your mind you weren’t telling him.

The witcher pushed himself away from the door and moved to the side of the tub, kneeling down so he’d be at your level. Silently, he held his hand out for the washcloth. You handed it to him. He used his other hand to gently take hold of your chin. He turned your head towards him and began to wipe the dirt and mud from your forehead.

“About what?” His breath was warm against your face.

“How I…. I’ve never had someone do what you did for me today.”

His eyes avoided yours, choosing instead to focus on the smudge on your temple.

“Wasn’t much I did. We were just traveling through a shithole. Figured you’d have fun messing around in the mud.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help but look down, tilting your head too. “But my previous partners, they’ve never…. They’d never allow me to do such a thing as walk out in the swamps like that. They’d never let me off the horse, let alone off the path. Some…. Some wouldn’t even let me collect herbs or my stones.”

Lambert furrowed his brows together.

“What kind of moron wouldn’t let a mage get shit they need for their work?”

You smiled just a little.

“Not everyone is as open minded and as nice you, darling.”

“You make me sound like some sort of saint.” He snorted. He dipped the washcloth into the water to rinse it off.

You were silent once more.

Lambert put the washcloth on the side of the tub and stood up.

He wasn’t too sure what was going through your head, sometimes it was difficult to read you, and sometimes it was hard for him to figure out the right way to approach the situation to get you to open up to him.

He turned to go back to the door to stand guard, but he got just a few steps away from the tub when you spoke.

“I think I’m…. That I’m in love with you.” You whispered.

The witcher turned on his heels to face you, brows drawing together.

“.... Because of the swamp?”

“No, no. I-I mean, it’s a combination of things.” You suddenly felt like maybe bringing this up while you were naked in the tub wasn’t the best of ideas. You pulled your knees as close to your chest as possible and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’ve-I’ve wanted to say it for a while. I mean, we’ve been together for a year and a half, almost two years. I just….”

Lambert looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“If-If you don’t feel the same-,”

“No, I do. I do.” He shook his head. “Just…. didn’t think this would come up here, in the dingy bath of a crusty inn in Velen. Kinda wanted to try to be a little romantic about it. Maybe do it on our two years? But romantic shit makes me queasy.”

You smiled softly at him.

“Why don’t, uh, why don’t you get out and get dressed? And then we can finish this not in here?”

You nodded your head.

You stood up and Lambert retrieved a towel for you, wrapping it around your shoulders. You thanked him and stepped out of the tub to dry off. He moved back to the door, wanting to give you space while you got dressed.

Once you were in proper clothes, you walked together down to the room you’d be staying in for the night. While Lambert secured the door, you climbed into bed.

“What was your idea of making it a little romantic?” You asked him, watching him as he came around to the side of the bed and got in.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, running his hand over his hair. “I was hoping it would be at Kaer Morhen so I could make you dinner. Eskel has a stash of really nice wine in his room. I was going to steal a bottle.”

“It sounds lovely.” You rested your head on his chest. “You know, you can still do that.”

“I know. I will.” Lambert began to trace shapes on your back as he stared at the ceiling. “I know I’m not the best at showing it, but I do…. I love you, bug. You mean a lot to me.”

“It’s okay. I love you too, Lambert.” You looked up to kiss him softly. “And I think it’s rather cute that our first time saying it to each other was in a crusty Velen inn.”

“It sure fits us.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @you-fxcking-wish-bish @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @thegaydeath @creatingstuffinpeace @wellthisstinks @andyrazzledazzle @she-wolfoftheinquisition

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#Lambert x reader #lambert x reader fluff #the witcher #Lambert the witcher #the witcher the wild hunt #the wild hunt #Netflix #kacey answers

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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Note

Hello there you beautfiul blog user and writer! If you are open to accept prompts or to get ideas to future fics may I suggest a fic of lil Christopher Lightwood and when their parents found out he needed some glasses? I love how well you write him

Hello beautiful Anon!! Thank you so much for the request! It's called August for literally no reason whatsoever, btw. Anyway here’s little Kit getting his first pair of distance glasses (as a user of said glasses, I’m drawing from personal experiences).

August

Characters: Christopher Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood & Cecily Lightwood/Herondale

...

“Good, Kit,” Gabriel said from where he was kneeling beside the small boy.

His son smiled up at him with wide, blue eyes—that looked lilac purple in the sunlight—and put down his bow. “Did I get it in the centre?”

“Almo—” Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean? Can’t you see the target?”

Kit squinted his eyes. “A tiny bit. But I can’t see the arrow.”

Gabriel’s confusion grew. “Son,” he said, standing and walking a couple of metres away from where he was standing. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

Gabriel was indeed holding up three fingers. “Hm.” He said. “I guess you couldn’t possibly need new glasses.”

Christopher shrugged.

“Perhaps your current glasses are interfering. Here, take them off.”

Kit obliged. He looked at the arrow and fumbled with the string, trying to see where the arrow’s tail was.

“Papa, I’m getting dizzy.” He said.

“Oh, then never mind, put them back on.” Gabriel said, quickly, not wanting Christopher to get a headache.

Once Kit adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, both of them stood there, thinking about what they should do.

“Can we just continue training?” Kit asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel said, a relieved smile on his face.

…

“Are you teaching our five-year-old son how to shoot a bow and arrow?” Cecily asked from the doorway, a while later.

Gabriel glanced at her momentarily and nodded.

Cecily leaned her hip against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Is he good?”

“His form is exceptional, but he can’t seem to shoot it to the center.”

“Well,” Cecily said, walking inside and kneeling down beside her son. He did, in fact, have perfect form, something he somehow must have inherited from his father. “He doesn’t have to excel at it.”

“Of course not.” Gabriel said. “I’m just confused.”

Kit shot the arrow and skipped over to the target. “It’s closer!” He said turning to his parents excitedly.

“Wonderfully done, Kit bach,” Cecily said, smiling widely.

Gabriel sighed at how naturally Cecily could speak to their children and encourage them. Whenever he tried it, he felt awkward. Will sometimes teased him at times over how he couldn’t train children. Cecily told him to just treat them as though he were training adolescents or adults, that his children won’t think anything of him being less enthusiastic.

“Why is he walking up to the target?” Cecily asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“He says he can’t see it well.”

Cecily craned her head to look at him. “He probably needs glasses.”

“He already has glasses.” Gabriel pointed out.

“Other types of glasses, you nitwit. Ones for long distances. Didn’t that cross your mind?”

“It did! I even checked to see if he needed them.”

“How?”

“I held up some fingers and he could see them just fine.” Gabriel said, defensively.

Cecily gave him the you’re-a-fool face. “Of course he can bloody see your fingers! That’s not a proper test as to whether he can see or not!” she said, exasperated.

“Then how do we test it?” Gabriel asked.

Cecily set Kit’s bow and took hold of his hand, pulling him along. “We leave it to the experts.”

…

He has Myopia as well as Hyperopia. I’d even say he is more nearsighted than farsighted.

“What does that mean?” Gabriel whispered to Cecily.

“I don’t know,” Cecily mouthed.

Brother Jeremiah looked into Christopher’s eyes, and Gabriel had the urge to go to his son and spare him the sight. Christopher shifted from where he was sitting, trying to look at his parents. Jeremiah put a hand on his chin to keep his gaze on him, so that he could see his eyes better. Cecily took Gabriel’s hand as if to say, calm down; he’ll be alright.

Gabriel squeezed it back and watched as Jeremiah closed the lids of Kit’s eyes and hovered his fingers over them.

He must have told Kit to open his eyes, because suddenly they flew open.

Gabriel didn’t understand the procedure The Brothers used for checking eyesight. All he knew was that after a while, Brother Jeremiah took Kit’s glasses and turned to Gabriel and Cecily, waiting for one of them to follow him.

Cecily used Gabriel’s knee to get up and went with Brother Jeremiah to get the glasses fixed while Gabriel stayed with Christopher.

Gabriel walked over to his son and sat down next to him.

“Well, son, I’ll admit that I have no idea what’s wrong with your glasses.” He said with a half smile.

“I can’t see far away.” Kit said. “Myopia means my eyes are curved differently, so they can’t focus the light normally. So, I can’t see from far away as well as up close.”

Gabriel turned to him, surprised. “How did you know that?”

“Uncle Henry explained it to me.” He said, shrugging. “I wanted to know why I needed glasses in the first place.”

Gabriel ruffled his hair. “You always know the right questions to ask, don’t you, ducks?”

He didn’t know how he ended up with a son like Christopher, who had such a sharp mind at so young. The reason as to why some people needed glasses had never crossed his mind, but Kit’s mind seemed to always be working, questioning why things and people were the way they were. Some people thought that Christopher was absent-minded, but Gabriel knew that it was because his brain was constantly working, not engaging in the current conversation, because it paled in comparison to what he was thinking about, or because there were too many things going on at once.

He looked at his son, who was looking up at him with wide eyes and his head tilted to the side. He looked like his beautiful mother in that small gesture.

“Can you even see me?” Gabriel asked, with a smile.

“Not really. You’re a little blurry.”

“Blurry.”

“A Papa-looking blur.”

Gabriel laughed out loud as Cecily came inside.

“We’re in luck,” She announced. “The Brother’s have temporary glasses with Christopher’s exact prescription that he can use while his are being fixed.” She came over with said glasses and carefully put them on Kit.

They immediately slipped down his nose.

“I think they’re a bit too big.” Gabriel said.

“Well, it’s that or he doesn’t see.” Cecily said, laughing.

…

“Do you like Kit’s temporary glasses, Cecy?” Gabriel asked, knowing perfectly well that she adored them.

“He is the most adorable little thing that’s walked the planet.” Cecily said, glancing at Christopher, who was lagging a bit behind them, staring at the witchlight stones as they passed by them, walking out of the Basilias.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Gabriel said, opening the doors for the others to go out, “next week he gets his actual glasses back.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cecily said mournfully.

Gabriel held out his hand for Christopher to take, and was surprised when he didn’t take it.

Gabriel looked down and realized that he wasn’t even there. “Kit?” he asked.

Cecily and Gabriel both stopped and turned around. Christopher stood frozen a couple of steps behind them, his jaw hanging open as he stared up at the trees.

“What’s the matter, Kit?” Cecily asked.

“I can see each individual leaf.” He mumbled. “If I wanted to, I could count them all!” He looked up at his mother with a huge grin on his face.

Cecily had always had a soft spot for her son, but with the oversized frames on his small head, the bridge slipping down his nose occasionally, Cecily felt her heart melting.

“You could,” she said, holding out a hand for him to take. “But then you’d miss all of the other beautiful things you can now see.”

Christopher took her hand, casting a long look at the tree before following her.

There was a slight skip to his step as he looked around, taking in the world, his gaze always returning to the trees, which seemed to be the most fascinating revelation.

“Are you going to go back home and practice archery with your father?” Cecily asked.

Kit nodded happily.

Cecily didn’t think Gabriel really understood that Kit only really liked archery because it was time he could spend with his father. He was always nervous in anything that had to do with fatherhood, terrified that he’d end up like Benedict.

Cecily had told him time and time again that his children will love him unconditionally, unless he gave them reason not to, but she also knew that it was hard for Gabriel. His relationship with his father was a mixture of love and abuse, the line between the two becoming so unnoticeable, that Gabriel had a hard time telling the difference.

Cecily had faith in him, however. Especially as she looked at Gabriel and Kit in front of her, the latter sitting on the former’s shoulders, taking his glasses on and off, comparing the way he could see without glasses and the way he could see with them on.

Christopher turned around. “Mama, I can see the entire world!” He held his arms out wide, a wide grin on his face, as though he were presenting its beauty.

Cecily laughed and put a hand on his back, “Yes, bach, the world is a beautiful place, isn’t it?” She looked at Gabriel. He took her hand, kissing the back of it and let their interlaced hands swing between them as they walked back home.

...

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @rinadragomir @youngreckless @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @writeforjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @will-effing-herondale @axoloteca @heronstairs2014 @ilovemanicures

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#christopher lightwood #gabriel lightwood #cecily lightwood #cecily x gabriel #tsc #gabrily #tlh #tlh fanfiction #tid #tid fanfiction #tsc fanfiction

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

@oozyhxney asked:

Okay hear me out...AU where the pillars are the fem!reader's sugar parents. Doesnt have to be spicy but can be if you want to I just want to see how they act as a sugar mommy/daddy. And can the reader call them mommy/daddy??? Thank you!

Alright, so I love this concept so much that I’m turning it into a series? Hello smut and nine people spoiling you 😎

~*ᑭᖇOᒪOGᑌE*~

warnings: alcohol consumption, use of tobacco

words: 3.5k

It’s a chilly, brisk night, the lights lining the streets casting a golden glow; it’s almost pretty, mysterious in a tantalizing way, but it’s nothing compared to the ornate building you stare up at. The architecture tells you that this building is obviously old, the stone arches beautifully molded and hinting at years gone past. The building itself is secluded from the rest of the city, lined by an iron wrought fence and massive gates. Wealth bleeds from this place, taunts everyone who passes in their cars.

Why you’re even here, you don’t know. Your best friend Daki insisted you tag along for this so-called “gathering,” but you know it’s much more than that. It will be fun, she said. She even dressed you up in some of her clothes; wrapped in a fitted silk skirt, a mesh shirt, and a faux fur coat, you are not dressed like you usually do. Although, you have to admit – blush looks really good on you.

You feel stiff in the expensive clothes – all of them straight from the runway, yikes – as you maneuver out of the car, your heels clacking against the concrete sidewalk. Daki is dressed in a similar fashion, a slinky black gown adorning her curves and a faux fur coat hanging from her shoulders as well. Her painted lips curve into a smile as she looks to you.

“See, darling?” she says, her eyes doing another onceover at you, “you’d fit into the luxurious lifestyle perfectly.”

Behind her, a tall, dark-skinned man emerges from the car, his teeth a pearly white and his eyes a beautiful gold. Even though you’ve met him numerous times, the sight of Daki’s sugar daddy still makes you weak in the knees. He’s insanely gorgeous – not to mention intelligent – and positively dripping with wealth. It’s this “gathering” he was invited to attend in the first place; obviously, he wanted to bring Daki along, but he was also nice enough to let her bring you along whenever he was busy talking to friends and potential clients.

“Are you ladies ready?” he says, buttoning his jacket closed. Daki clings onto his arm, looking almost tiny against his broad frame. He turns his dazingly smile to you, an encouraging look in his eyes. How Daki managed to find a sugar daddy who was so nice, you have no idea. You’re almost jealous of her. Almost.

Daki’s free hand intertwines with yours, and the three of you set towards the front entrance. Your chauffeur drives off, the sweet purr of the Rolls Royce echoing in the night air. An entourage of staff greet you at the entrance, asking for your bags and coats and handing you tickets in return. It happens so fast that you’re left reeling at the attention, but the other two seem perfectly fine with the whole situation.

Soon enough, you’re whisked into a large room, a sea of people filling the entirety of the space. A small orchestra sits on the far side of the room, their instruments pristinely polished as they provide tonight’s entertainment. Tables line the walls, covered with white tablecloths and French pastries. Your mouth waters at the sight, your eyes drawn to the silver platters covered with macarons; you are so going to spoil yourself tonight. A man in waistcoat and black tie stops in front of you three, gently urging you to take a flute of champagne. You sheepishly accept a glass, glancing over to Daki.

“Is it always this… rushed?” you ask her. “It feels like so much is going on at once.”

Separating herself from Idris – her sugar daddy – she merely shrugs a shoulder. “You get used to it, darling. Now, enjoy yourself. You deserve to be treated like royalty once in a while, and I’ll be damned if you don’t.” She gestures to the drink in your hand. “Drink up.”

With a slight sigh, you do as told; the champagne is surprisingly sweet, almost feathery light as it slides down your throat. You’ve never had anything like this before. It’s almost… delicious? Is that the proper word to use here? If anything, it tastes expensive.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Idris is quick to speak up. “It’s a Shinazugawa special. What’d they call it, babe?” he asks, turning to Daki.

“La Libellule,” Daki responds. “It’s delectable, isn’t it? I’ve always loved the brand.”

You nearly drop the glass. Shinazugawa? Like, the Shinazugawa? One of the most expensive alcohol companies on Earth? Shit, a bottle of their wine is more expensive than your monthly rent – maybe even a couple.

“Yeah,” you say, albeit shakily, “it’s great.”

Idris hums, his expression thoughtful. “I can introduce you to the owner, if you want.” He acts so nonchalant, casually sipping on his champagne as you and Daki drop your mouths.

“Wait, seriously?” Daki chirps. “Please, Daddy? That’d be incredible!”

“Of course, babe,” Idris says, swiftly planting a kiss to Daki’s temple. “If you ladies would follow me…”

Your mind switches to autopilot as you follow after Idris through the crowd, struggling to keep up with his long strides. Delicate perfume and rich cologne fill your senses as you pass by CEOs, celebrities, you name it. It seems almost if everybody who’s anybody is here. Still, Daki keeps a hand in yours, providing you both with support and comfort. She wants you to have fun, after all. She wants you to have a taste as to what her life is like.

As you draw further away from the crowd, you’re led down a hallway with only a couple of stragglers mill about. The music from the main room drifts down the hall, the shiny floors and beige-and-gold walls putting you in mind of royalty. Idris leads you to a solid oak door and stops right in front of it. Glancing over his shoulder, he sends the two of you a teasing smile.

“You might want to prepare yourselves, ladies.” With those words, he twists the brass doorknob open.

Immediately, you’re hit with a rich, thick cloud of tobacco. Spices and citrus mix with the cloud, along with hints of florally perfume. Glancing inside, you’re met with the sight of leather couches and a billiards table. A mahogany bar sits on the other side of the room, its shelves filled to the brim with name-brand drinks and mixers.

A small group of people loiter in the room; your heart drops to your stomach as you quickly come to realize that you recognize all of them. A few men are gathered around the billiards table, watching as one with a head of wild hair takes aim at a ball. Shinazugawa Sanemi – owner and CEO of a liquor company that people pay top dollar for.

Your hand tightens around Daki’s. Is this seriously happening right now? You’re in a room full of influential people, and you feel smaller than a goddamn ant.

There’s a loud clack as Sanemi takes his shot, the balls bouncing off each other and one flying into a pocket. One of the other men standing by the side – Rengoku Kyojuro, an A-list actor – claps his hands, his expression impressed.

“Hey, Shinazugawa-san!” Idris calls out. The entire group turns to look at you three, their conversations coming to a halt. Idris either takes no notice or care as he crosses to the billiards table, his hand reaching out and shaking the group’s hands.

Daki looks to you, excitement glittering in her eyes. “Oh my god,” she whispers, “do you see who’s in here? Daddy is the best!”

At that, you have to agree. How Idris knows so many people like this, you have no clue. You figure it’s part of the life, being friends with the 1%, but it is impressive. Either way, you’re shaking like nobody’s business. You’re not part of the life, and you’re just barely skimming the surface. How does one even act around these types of people? You’re not in a crowd, so you can’t hide away and gorge yourself on macarons and bubbly.

A tall man with silver hair barks a laugh; dressed in a fine suit with rings on his fingers, you notice that it’s Uzui Tengen, a famous producer. The songs he writes are mostly number one hits, some of them even earning platinum records. The thing is, though, is that his music can be primarily found in somebody’s sex playlist. “Idris, you son of a bitch! How are you?” he exclaims, the hand not holding onto a cue clapping down on Idris’ shoulder.

“I’m well,” Idris says with a chuckle. “But I’d like to introduce you to some very lovely people.” Turning around, he beckons you and Daki over. Daki pulls you along, a bright smile forming on her pretty face. “This is my darling, Daki. And this is her friend, (y/n).”

“Well, well, well,” Tengen begins, his voice smoother than silk. Placing his cue down, he pulls his cigarette out of his mouth and quickly takes Daki’s hand in his and places a kiss to her knuckles. She giggles at the attention, her long eyelashes fluttering. Tengen then moves to you, a smirk on his handsome face as he then takes your hand. Your heart nearly stops in your chest, warmth running through your veins as he places his soft lips to the back of your hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he purrs.

“Oi, didn’t you hear the man?” Sanemi barks. “He’s here for me, you idiot. Get your head out of your ass.” Brushing Tengen to the side, he comes to stand before you and Daki. “So. Idris wanted to introduce you girls to me.”

The fact that he sounds disinterested – even annoyed, damn – makes your heart thud in disappointment. Granted, he’s probably used to meeting people who want to fawn all over him, but can’t he be… You know… Nicer?

“What, am I not allowed to say how much I enjoy your products?” Daki says, her lips pursing into a pout.

Sanemi scoffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but stare at the exposed skin, the first couple buttons of his shirt undone. A simple silver chain hangs around his neck, a small pendant attached. You have to admit that he’s incredibly attractive, even if his personality begs to differ. “Can’t say that it’s the first time somebody’s tried to use that on me.”

“Shinazugawa-san, play nice,” Idris tells him.

Daki holds a hand up to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll even tell him that a virgin to your products absolutely loves your champagne.” She nudges your shoulder with her own. “Isn’t that right, (y/n)?”

Sanemi’s steely gaze switches to you. He almost looks amused. “Oh, really now? You’ve never tried my drinks? I’m actually surprised.”

You have half the mind to tell him off, that you aren’t a part of this crowd, but the words die on your tongue. There’s no point in starting an argument with this guy. Sanemi merely jerks his head towards the bar, an inviting glint in his eyes.

“Here, lemme show you what a real drink tastes like.”

You absentmindedly follow him over the bar, passing by Tengen in the process. He merely smirks down at you, the look in his eyes unreadable. Taking a seat at the bar, you watch Sanemi makes his way behind the counter and starts to make up some concoction. Idris sets to talking with the men surrounding the billiards table, going on about some upcoming vacations and the like. Rich people problems, you guess.

Daki comes over and takes the stool next to yours, an expectant look on her face. “Well? What do you think so far?”

“Like I said – rushed. We’ve barely been here for twenty minutes and I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

“It might be shock,” a new voice says. Looking to your right, you see a pretty woman with fair skin and dark hair taking the seat next to you. She holds out a dainty hand in greeting. “Kochu Shinobu. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Kocho Shinobu. The name rolls around in your head as you try to catch up with the fact that you’re sitting next to a renowned brain surgeon. Taking her hand in yours, you politely give it a shake as you provide her with your own name. Her face is pleasant, the light dusting of eyeshadow on her lids making her large eyes pop. Honestly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that she was a model rather than a certified genius.

“Sanemi-san,” she says, her voice dainty, just like the rest of her, “be a dear and pour me a glass of barbera.”

“Doctor Kocho,” you begin, but Shinobu quickly shoots a hand up.

“Please, call me Shinobu. I only like to be called doctor when I’m at work. And, as you can tell,” she says, gesturing to the room with a wide sweep of her arms, “I’m not at work.”

Daki taps on your shoulder with a manicured finger. “Hey, (y/n), do you remember me telling you about my friend Mitsuri?” Turning fully to her, you look over her shoulder at a busty pink-haired female. She flashes you a dazzling smile as your eyes meet hers.

“Hi!” she chirps, waggling her fingers in greeting. With a giggle, she points to your outfit. “I see that somebody has some taste.”

Glancing down your clothes, you suddenly feel very self-conscious about the mesh shirt and the lacy bra it covers. It’s a beautiful shirt, yes, with its scattered silver stones inlaid towards the neckline. The silk skirt you wear flows down to your ankles, leaving your strappy heels on display. It’s an outfit Daki picked out, so you can’t take credit for how utterly great you look.

Daki sends you a knowing look. “Those clothes are from Mitsuri’s fashion line. I say, you look dashing in them.”

You gawk at your friend. “Wait, seriously? I didn’t know these were hers…”

Mitsuri graces you with another giggle. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I agree with Daki – you look incredible.”

“Blah, blah, blah, we get it. (y/n) looks pretty,” Sanemi interrupts. He sets glasses in front of each of you girls, all of them specially made (besides Shinobu’s glass of wine). “Come on, drink up. Once you had a sip of that, you won’t want another drink from anyone else ever again.”

The drink in front of you sits in a tall, pretty glass, its caramel color beckoning for you to try a sip. Hesitantly, you rise the glass to your lips, Sanemi’s focused gaze watching your every move. The alcohol is smooth, sweet; it burns your throat in a pleasant way, leaving you surprised. It’s delicious. Sanemi must notice the expression on your face since a cocky one forms on his own.

“What’d I tell you?”

You nod at him. “It’s amazing. What’s in it?”

Sanemi snickers. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You honestly think your mind is playing tricks on you whenever he sends you a wink.

“Here, (y/n), follow me,” Mitsuri suddenly says. You give Sanemi your thanks before you quickly hop off the stool, leaving Daki to talk with the other two. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else, okay?”

She takes you over to one of the leather couches, two men with dark hair sitting side by side while another sits in a separate armchair. You instantly recognize the large one as Himejima Gyomei, a well-known sculptor; his works are nothing but beautiful, and it’s even more amazing knowing that he’s blind. His hands are truly gifted, and you’ve been following after his work for years.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe. “Uh, Himejima-san?” He perks up at your voice, the hand holding his Scotch lowering. “I just… I’m a huge fan of your works, sir.” You try to ignore the heat rising up your neck, the shaking of the drink in your hand.

And, much to your surprise, Gyomei starts crying.

Mitsuri places a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry – he does that a lot.” She sends you a reassuring smile. “Anyway, these two are Tomioka Giyuu and Tokito Muichiro.”

The other two men nod their heads in greeting. Unlike the others, they don’t seem the talkative type, but they’re breathtakingly gorgeous. You know Muichiro’s a dancer, having been in numerous shows; his lithe body tells you as such. He almost looks like a doll, with delicate features and crystalline eyes. He wears his long hair loose, the strands of it pushed behind his ears and revealing little silver hoops.

Giyuu, unlike Muichiro, is not in the entertainment business, but a CEO of a company, just like Sanemi. You know that his company deals with water technology, striving to clean up the Earth’s supply while providing others who need it. It’s admirable work, really, and you’re in awe to see him up close.

Mitsuri directs your attention away, pointing at the other person you have yet hear to talk – Iguro Obanai. Again, a successful businessman, except that he owns a ridiculously popular tattoo parlor. People always gush on social media about how cool he is, how incredible his artwork is, how amazing it is to have their ink done by him. To be touched by him is to be touched by a god. He’s just that good.

“You’ll the chance to talk to all of us, surely,” Mitsuri tells you. “It’s always nice to meet new faces.” Pulling you over to the couch, she ushers the other two to move aside so you have a place to sit.

The leather practically sucks you into a world of comfort as you sink down onto its plush cushions. You run your hand over the smooth material, subconsciously wondering just how much this thing is even worth. Your apartment would look great with this couch in it.

“Are you… enjoying yourself?” Giyuu questions you, voice low. He clears his throat. “Sorry. You just seem uncomfortable.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. Is it that obvious that you’re new to this whole thing? You’re actually impressed that he picked up on that so easily. “Actually, Tomioka-san, this is my first time at a uh, gathering like this.”

A shiver travels down your spine as Giyuu turns his piercing gaze on you. “Oh. So you’re not here with Idris?”

You shake your head no. “I’m only here since Daki wanted me to be. She said I had to experience new things.” With a shrug, you take another sip of your drink; you don’t know why you’re practically spilling your guts to someone you’ve barely met, but something about Giyuu is… comforting, to say the least.

“Wait – does that mean you’re not with anybody?” Mitsuri speaks up.

Looking to her, a weird feeling blooms in your chest. What is that supposed to mean, anyway? “Uh… no?” you say slowly.

“(y/n), come on, let’s go,” Daki suddenly says. She’s standing by Gyomei’s chair, her hands resting on her hips. “I’m hungry and I know you were staring at those macarons earlier.”

You can feel your entire body heat up with embarrassment. True, while you love Daki with every fiber in your body, but she can be an utter brat sometimes. What she wants, she gets. It’s no wonder she became a sugar baby in the first place. You shoot the others sitting around you an apologetic glance as you stand up. Idris is already waiting by the door, seemingly sharing some last words with Kyojuro. Setting your glass down, you say a quick goodbye to everyone as Daki grabs you by the arm and pulls you over to the door.

“I gotta say, Idris, you’ll have to swing around some time for drinks,” Kyojuro is saying, his large hand shaking Idris’. He glances over to you as you and Daki wander over. “Oh, and you should bring your girls along.”

Idris waves a dismissive hand. “The only girl I need is Daki, Kyojuro. I don’t have that type of relationship with (y/n).”

“Oh, is that so?” Kyojuro drawls. His abnormal eyes scan over your body, an appreciate hum rumbling in his chest. He flashes you a brilliant smile; it makes you go weak in the knees since that’s the smile he uses on the red carpet. He’s even more handsome up close and in person. His tailored suit fits him so perfectly, and your imagination is already flying. A lot of the movies he stars in aren’t kid friendly, so you may or may not know what he looks like underneath the suit…

Coughing awkwardly, you attempt to smile at him in return.

“We’ll have to go out for drinks sometime,” Kyojuro tells you. “I’d like to get to know more about you.” The suggestive tone in his voice isn’t lost on you; in fact, it makes you excited. An extremely hot actor flirting with you? Yes please.

“She’ll think about it later,” Daki says for you. “It was nice meeting you, though!” You manage to send a quick wave to everyone in the room before Daki promptly pulls you out, making a beeline towards the main room and the delectable desserts on display.

Well… That was interesting.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira #kny hashira x reader #diamonds are a girl's best friend series

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thefact0rygirl · 3 years

Note

How do you keep writing on bad days where your writing barely get any attention?🥺 sometimes I feel like giving up like some others would be better. It’s so discouraging

I am so sorry you’re going through this. I hear you and I can assure you that no one can do what you do better than yourself. Your ideas are your own, and while multiple can have the same concept, no one can bring your idea to life the way you can.

When it comes to a lack of attention, one of the most important and hardest things to accept is that it’s not about you. It’s hard to separate yourself from your writing because you created it, but it’s the truth. The shitty part about writing (especially on tumblr), is that there are a lot of factors that contribute to engagement that are out of our control.

Tumblr’s tagging system is crap and doesn’t work as well as it should.

You can’t predict when everyone will be online. There are general times when more people are on, but this fluctuates. If you post when not a lot of people are online, then your post gets lost in the mix.

Fandoms go through tides of active engagement and then nothing.

The playing field isn't even enough for you to draw accurate conclusions from, and so comparing yourself to another writer isn’t accurate or fair to you.

You are not alone, I’ve been feeling this way for a while now. For me, if I feel discouraged or am having a bad (writing) day, then I don’t write. Full stop.

I’ve struggled with setting proper boundaries with myself in the past and it ultimately led me to hating certain hobbies I used to love. I don’t want this to happen with writing, so when I notice I’m discouraged or unmotivated, I step away from my fics and blog. I’ll avoid think about writing and actually writing for hours, days, and sometimes weeks. However long it takes for me and my thoughts to breathe.

Every writer is different, every situation is different, and every discouraging time has it’s own inciting event. Maybe you went into this thinking certain things would happen by a certain point, and they haven’t panned out like you thought they would. It’s okay to feel discouraged about lack of attention and engagement. I think you should experience it, but you shouldn’t wallow in it. Use it as a reality check and ask yourself why are you doing this.

Why are you spending hours of your life writing and posting?

Really look into the deeper answer to this questions. Go past the “Oh, I just really like Star Wars.” Because a lot of people love star wars, but not everyone writes about it. So why writing?

Do you like reading about your favorite characters?

Do you like talking to others about your favorite characters?

Do you want to be a major person in your fandom’s Tumblr community?

Fuck it, do you want to be the next Rough Day?

There is nothing wrong with wanting any of this. Most of us have to some extent, whether we want to admit it or not.

Figure out what really, really motivates you to write. There isn’t a right or wrong answer, and there isn’t anyone you need to tell this to you, except yourself. So be honest.

And it is 1000% okay if you look at yourself and realize you don't want to write anymore. Don't put this inordinate amount of pressure on yourself. You're not getting paid to do this, so don't force yourself to do something you don't want to do. If you need a break, take a break. If you want to stop, then stop. Don't feel guilty or ashamed for it - you are taking care of yourself and that is never something to feel bad about.

This is a whole lot of rambling, I hope it makes sense! Just know you matter and I’m here to listen if you ever want to vent or bounce ideas off of ❤️❤️

#asks #anon #putting under a cut because it's an essay #writing meta

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mbti-notes · 3 years

Text

Anon wrote: Hello mbti-notes, How do you do? Hope you're having a good time in your vacation!

I'm a 25F (unhealthy, level 1) INFJ, and my mother (late 40s) is ISFJ. I- have some issues myself and it's affecting my relationships. I currently stay away from socializing and bottling up my issues and problems. If it gets bad I cry alone in the bathroom dealing with mixed feelings of love and resentment.

I don't know how to start but I recently realized my mother has toxic traits and this causes some inner conflict. I understand she has went through a lot in life (so did my dad, still typing him)...but I want her to realize she too is flawed, not just us. There are various times she hurt me with words and during some of those incidents, we end up fighting and I say things in anger that hurt her. She believes she is never in the wrong and adapts the victim mentality. Whenever I try to reason with her, she doesn't admit her faults and immediately brings up things I did in the past. She actually repeats whatever we say in a taunting manner out of spite. As I write this, I am realizing this sounds ridiculous.

While growing up, she hated me being close to my dad and manipulated me using the victim mentality, so she succeeded in making me dislike my father in childhood. One time when we fought, I told her, "now I understand why dad doesn't bother to clear up things with you! You never listen and twist words!" She took this as betrayal and thinks I'm completely on dad's side, who hurt her. I did not dismiss her pain. I want her to understand all of us are messed up and we need to work on ourselves and fix things.

I fear that as she grows old, she'll grow more stubborn and become narcissistic. I fear that I would become like her in the future after getting married and act like her to my children and spouse in the future. My parents themselves are unhealthy due to having grown up in unhealthy and toxic environments themselves, and their parents were bounded by toxic traditions like patriarchal misogynistic practices. I am afraid of this cycle continuing, the cycle of unhealthy parents hurting their children and they grow up like that too. What should I do? How do I make my parents realize we all need help and need to improve ourselves?

I know first and foremost I should be improving myself, but I am also worried about them. I am not saying I am perfect, I also have some toxic traits but I watch myself when interacting with others. There are so many I's and reeks of narcissism, need to stop that. Also realized that I'm probably having a problem with my parent's toxic traits, maybe it's my high standards not letting me accept these flaws. They took great pains to raise me and my sibling, but it also hurts me to see them like this, I just want them to be happy and be in harmony. Apologies for this rambling, it's hard to put them in order since English is not my first language.

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

The main problem is that neither you nor your mom is capable of healthy relationship boundaries. When two people don't set, respect, and enforce proper boundaries, they easily end up in a vicious cycle of conflict, even when they love each other. Why? In a close relationship, two people know exactly what buttons to push and how to bait each other into conflict. Why bait each other into conflict? When there is a serious underlying problem and/or traumatic wounding in the relationship that remains unresolved, the two parties will rehash the problem or replay the trauma over and over again, in an unconscious attempt to achieve resolution or feel a sense of closure.

Unfortunately, resolution or closure rarely happens, because during the conflict, the pain is never truly heard or addressed. The cycle of conflict then gradually escalates, as both parties get more aggressive in wanting to be heard and validated. Each person uses the conflict to act out their unresolved ego dramas and traumas. You both claim to be victims and you use each other to reinforce the victim narrative. While it might be true that you are both victims in some form, it is unproductive to keep accusing each other of being the enemy or victimizer. Nobody will ever "win" this conflict because nobody is really listening to the pain that is being expressed. The blame game destroys the good will required to reach mutual understanding.

A repetitive cycle of conflict continues because BOTH parties are putting energy into it and perpetuating it. Oftentimes, one major contributing factor to the original problem/trauma was poor communication skills or hurtful communication habits. Until at least one of the two parties improves their ability to listen and communicate maturely, there is nothing to stop the cycle of conflict, short of severing the relationship for good.

Your mom has "toxic traits" that created a toxic environment for you growing up. You acknowledge that you have similarly toxic traits and want to address them. Good. You're an adult now. An important part of growing up is becoming independent and taking personal responsibility for the trajectory of your life. You make the decisions as an adult, so your problems are in your hands. Her problems are hers to handle. Your process of healing should not require anything from your mom or even blaming your mom.

The fact that you want her to admit fault, accompany you, or work on herself means that you are violating her boundary. You want her to change, when she isn't ready or doesn't want to. You use criticism to pressure her and that causes her pain. Her maltreatment of you during conflict is an expression of the pain that you're causing her. Similarly, the way that you mistreat her is the manifestation of the pain she has caused you in the past. The longer the pain remains unresolved, the more likely it is that the hurt turns into anger, then rage, then spite...

You don't like the ways in which she tries to manipulate you to be who/what she wants you to be. That's fair. But you're not fully recognizing that you're doing the same thing to her. You're essentially saying that you won't be able to grow up and move on with your life until she becomes the mom that you want her to be. In a way, you're holding the both of you hostage. It doesn't matter if you believe that you're being altruistic and it's "for her own good" - she believes exactly the same thing when she tries to change you. Trying to change her, against her will, amounts to an attack on her being. If you're not able to love someone as they are, you're in no position to help them. If you're not able to communicate with someone without causing hurt to yourself or them, you're in no position to help them. "Helping" is about supporting people in their efforts, not about constantly pressuring them to live up to your standards.

You are too emotionally entangled with her. You want her validation, her support, her empathy, her cooperation, her confession, her atonement, etc. It sounds like none of that is forthcoming, nor is it even necessary. As long as you can't face the reality of who your mom is and keep expecting her to be different, YOU are choosing to keep yourself tied to her and her toxic ways. Yes, everyone needs social support in life, but as an adult, you should no longer need a "mom".

To become independent, you need to draw your own personal boundary in life and work within it to heal your personality problems. When you become a capable boundary setter and carve out your own space in the world, you know to rest and recuperate within its bounds and you know to keep people out when they don't respect its bounds. If you need help or support with your healing, she is obviously not the right choice, is she? She is not capable of entering your boundary without the conflict arising again, is she? There's nothing wrong with needing help/support, but you are not going to find much success by seeking it from the least qualified of sources.

Children aren't born knowing how to conduct healthy and mature relationships, so they can't be expected to understand boundaries when no one taught them. However, as an adult, it is your responsibility to address that knowledge deficit, if you hope to break past patterns and have healthy relationships. Do you understand what a boundary is, how to set one, and how to enforce one? It's about respecting your own being, respecting the being of others, and learning how to mingle with people without allowing hurt or violation. I suggest that you work with a therapist who specializes in relationships and boundary setting. Judging by the nature of your disagreements with her, you need to work on your communication skills and conflict resolution skills too. See the related tags and book suggestions on the resources page.

#parent child relationship #infj relationships #relationships #boundaries #independence #conflict #ask

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gravegroves · 3 years

Note

Can I ask about 2 and 8 for the wip tag game?

I've already talked about 8 (search #tag game in my tags and you'll find it).

But omg thank you for asking about 2!!

2. Like a Bat Out of Hell, Indiana

Oh man, oh man. This. This right here? This is my baby. My precious. The one I wrote so self indulgently that even if no one else likes it, I LIKE IT. And I'm completely okay with that.

El and Hopper fail at closing the gate at the end of s2, Billy appears at the Byers' house just in time and so begins a mad dash across the country, trying to outrun the end of the fucking world.

Tw: death (no one we care about though)

Excerpt:

The sound of a car roaring into the driveway has Steve's heart crashing up into his throat and they all turn to watch as headlights dance across the living room walls, sharp and blinding, like a goddamn beacon of hope.

And Steve doesn't have time to think about why the deep rumbling of the engine sounds so familiar.

He moves the kids now or they die.

"Get to the car, now!" Steve screams, just as the window at the end of the hall explodes inward.

Max gets to the door first and tears out of the house, sprinting toward the high beam lights with the boys hot on her heels.

"Billy!" She screams and goddamnit she can't mean--

She reaches the car, yanks the passenger side door open and pushes the front seat forward, shoving Dustin, Mike and Lucas into the back before diving in herself, righting the front seat in a practised move just in time for Steve to jump in after her.

And yep. There he is.

Hargrove's expression would be hilarious if they weren't seconds away from being overrun by a horde of carnivorous monster dogs.

"What the fuck do you losers think you're doing?!" Billy roars, eyes bugging slightly when he recognises Steve.

"Harrington?!"

Steve grabs him by the collar and screams into his face: "Just fucking drive!"

A loud crash has them both snapping their heads to the side just in time to watch as a hundred Demodogs or more come rushing out from behind the Byers' house, heading straight for them.

Without another word, Billy yanks the car into reverse and accelerates before hitting the breaks. Steve's stomach swoops as their momentum lets the wheels slide over the gravel to land perfectly on the road.

He grabs Billy's arm, yanks on it like it might shake some urgency into him.

"Hargrove, go!"

"Seatbelts! Get the seatbelts" Max yells at the others.

That's what she's worried about? Steve thinks, even as he reaches over his shoulder to strap himself in.

Then Billy puts the car into gear and guns it forward and they go from 0 to 70 mph in ten seconds flat, zooming down old, twisting back roads and Steve honestly can't believe that Hargrove's insane, wannabe NASCAR driving is gonna be what saves their asses tonight.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here with my sister, huh?" Billy yells, taking his eyes off the road to look over at him and Steve might seriously have a fucking heart attack.

"Eyes on the road!" He exclaims, foot searching the footwell for a break pedal that isn't there, "For real, man? You want to do this now?!"

"Or you can get out and fucking walk, amigo," Billy snarls, swerving around another Demodog leaping for the hood of his car, "What the hell is up with these dogs?"

"Billy, stop it! Can you jus-- look out!" Max shrieks, her arm shooting between them to point straight ahead and the kids all begin yelling as the flower-in-bloom-faced ugly fuck grows larger in the windscreen at an alarming speed.

Smooth as butter, Billy avoids the gaping creature in their path, not taking his foot off the accelerator for even a second. Steve's heart beats a drum solo against his adam's apple. His fingers feel fused to the edges of the seat, holding on for dear life.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that?" Billy turns to look behind him and Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw hurts, barely restraining himself from yanking Billy around to face forward again.

"Hargrove, I swear to God--"

"Oh god, look."

Steve turns his head the slightest amount to see Lucas pointing out of the window at the treeline to their right.

Demodogs.

Lots of them.

So many slimy, greyish bodies that the forest floor has all but disappeared and transformed into a churning sea of dark, slick oil.

More worryingly, they're all running in the same direction as the Camaro.

Fuck.

"What the…" Billy falters when he looks out of the window at the treeline, then seems to shake it off, placing his undivided attention back on the road for once.

He speeds up to pass a whole group of the beasts trying to cross to the other side, narrowly misses being cut off entirely by the mass of Demodog bodies. Steve releases a hand from the seat only to clutch at the grab handle on the door. He closes his eyes, swears he can feel his stomach fall out of his ass when the wheels on his side of the car lift into the air for half a beat.

"Shit, we're gonna die!" Dustin wails, voice wobbly as Billy jerks the wheel again to avoid a creature charging straight for them. If the kids weren't already packed in like sardines they'd be sliding around back there, seatbelt or no. "We're definitely gonna die! This psycho is gonna kill us before the monsters do!"

Billy scowls into the rear-view mirror and grits out "Hey kid, you're welcome to get out and walk."

"You literally tried to run us off the road a week ago--"

"Not the time, Dustin!" Max snaps and shushes him.

"We need to get to the gate!" Mike blurts out, leaning forward to speak directly at Steve. Demanding. "We need to help El!"

Steve doesn't even have the faintest idea of how to begin doing any of that.

"Dude, we can't just go back there, are you crazy--" Lucas pulls him back and they continue to argue in harsh whispers.

"If you losers don't shut the fuck up, I'll crash this goddamn car just so I can take you all with me." Billy barks, knuckles white on the wheel.

"Oh my god, see! What did I tell you?" Dustin exclaims, "He's dangerous, Steve!"

Yeah, well, he's all that we've got, Steve doesn’t say. "Shut up, Dustin."

They turn into the first proper residential street and Billy misses a tree by an inch as he tries to avoid colliding with five demodogs hunched over something on the road.

Oh god, was that a body?

"Harrington, where the fuck am I going?"

Steve closes his eyes, overwhelmed and completely out of his depth. They might have been the B team, but there hadn't actually been a plan B--

"Fuck, fuck! I don't know--"

"Billy," Max pleads, voice shaky with terror, silencing them all, "My mom…"

Billy sighs explosively before turning down a side street, barely slowing down.

"Shit."

*****

It's not just Max's mom, but Dustin's mom, too. Lucas's family. Mike's family.

They reach Old Cherry Road first and Billy barely allows the car to come to a full stop, Demodogs further down the street are taking notice of them already, stalking forward, mouths blooming excitedly. Steve eyes them warily until a garbled oh fuck from the back seat draws his attention to the other side of the street and--

It's bad.

The porch light sets the stage for a grizzly scene at the Hargrove residence. A woman lies directly beneath it, like the opening shot to a fucked up play, her head of red hair spilling over the top step.

She's very obviously dead. Steve can see where she must have tripped on the welcome rug -- awkwardly stiff and upturned between her feet -- and he can only hope she got knocked out in the fall and didn't feel a thing that came after. There isn't much left between her head and her knees except for a dark patch of gøre.

The headless body of a man lies slumped against a truck parked in the driveway, one arm stuck through the open car door, half torn off within his jacket. Blood still running down the concrete incline, pooling in the roadside gutter.

"Oh, you Bastard," Billy spits, barely a whisper.

The longer Steve stares, the more horrifying the scene becomes.

He doesn't want Max to see this. Or Billy.

Max doesn't make a sound.

Billy slams his fist against the steering wheel a couple of times, then peels away from the curb before the Demodogs can get too close.

*****

Dustin's house is dark. There's no car in the driveway.

"I told her Mews had been seen in Loch Nora. She must still be out looking..." Dustin trails off quietly. Shellshocked.

It's almost midnight. Steve doubts she's still out looking for a cat. And if she is...

"I wanted to keep her out of the way."

No one says anything.

They drive.

*****

The Sinclair house is dark, too, no lights on except for the motion sensor activated ones over the empty carport.

Billy doesn't bother slowing down. The area is absolutely swarming with creatures already.

"It's so late. Where..." Lucas falters, scanning the houses they pass, like he made a mistake and his home will appear any minute now. "Where did they go?"

"I'm sure they're okay, man," Steve tries, but it feels flat, false, "If they're in a car they could make it out. Your mom too, Dustin."

Billy grimaces, but says nothing.

"What?" Steve demands.

"I was just here looking for Max. They were home."

He keeps a laser focus on the road now, on avoiding the monsters spilling out onto their path, growling when he's forced to change down a gear before aggressively working his way up in speed once more, jaw clenched tight.

"You probably caught them on their way out." Steve insists.

Billy looks doubtful, but he nods anyway. Neither of them enough of an asshole to take a kid's hopes away like that.

They move on.

*****

"Let me out," Mike says, quietly. Trembling. Hands pushing against the back of Steve's seat like he'll be able to bend it out of the way through sheer force of will.

No one moves.

The front door to the Wheeler home is open, door splintered where the deadbolt held, but the wood didn't. The car is parked in the carport. All the lights are on.

Karen Wheeler's corpse lies forgotten and half devoured on the front lawn.

In the driveway, a tiny yellow sock lies next to bloody drag marks disappearing into the grass--

Oh god...

"Let me out."

Steve's lips move, but he can't seem to draw breath enough to produce sound..

Billy seems to shake himself out of a daze, takes a deep breath beside him. "Nah, kid."

And Mike just snaps.

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" He screams, punching and kicking the seat in front of him.

Steve leans forward out of the seat and puts his head in his hands.

"Let me out! LET ME OUT!" Mike shrieks, begs.

"No." Billy says again, evenly.

Mike's voice breaks on a wordless scream.

Steve wants to do his own bit of kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep their fucking head in the game or they're all going to end up dead.

By some twisted turn of fate that someone is turning out to be Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hysterically, he remembers hearing about Billy abandoning Carla Green to walk home alone from the quarry after she'd scratched the Camaro's dashboard with her fake nails by accident.

Mike kicks the back of the seat again. Billy says nothing.

All the kids are crying, now.

Mike's screams eventually taper off into babbling sobs and Dustin does his best to comfort him through his own half-choked cries. Lucas is whispering to a sobbing Max, his own breaths hitching and heaving uncontrollably, on the edge of breaking.

Steve's eyes sting, hidden behind his hands.

He lifts his head up and glances over at Billy, still tracking the side of the road, the edge of the trees. He looks so normal that it almost throws Steve for a loop. He wants to grab Billy by the collar again. Shake him. Scream: what part of this aren't you getting?

"The fuck is going on?" Billy hisses, almost to himself and oh, right.

"Later," Steve promises, hoarsely, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see stars.

"You know what they are?"

"Yeah." Steve says after a great deal of swallowing past the lump in his throat.

If Hargrove's voice betrays even a hint of emotion Steve knows he's gonna fucking lose it. Luckily, the guy keeps his shit together so Steve can keep a lid on his.

"You know what kills them?" Billy continues.

"Heat," Dustin says, voice thick, "And, like, bullets."

Billy nods, "Alright, how warm are we talking?"

"They don't like warm weather or daylight, but I don't think it kills them. Weakens them, maybe. Sends them underground."

"Fire will." Steve says, pulling at his hair until it hurts, dragging himself out of foggy despair and into the present where he's needed. He accidentally runs his gaze past Karen's body and tries not to dry-heave.

Mike is still crying behind him and god fuck, they should get out of here. The kid shouldn't be seeing this.

"Where do we go?" Max whispers, like she read his mind. She sounds as lost as Steve feels.

Billy revs the engine and turns to Steve, "Any requests?"

Steve thinks about the huge empty house waiting for him, a gaping nightmare at the edge of the woods. He balks at the thought.

Where the fuck do we go?

"Just get us out of Hawkins."

#anon ask #tag game #my precious #gravegroves writes #harringrove

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xiyao-feels · 3 years

Text

A Comparison of the Stairs Dialogue in CQL vs MDZS, Pt 1

(Pt 2)

A few introductory notes:

-This wasn't intended to be a big project post; I was just doing the comparison because I thought it was interesting. As I went I thought other people would probably find it interesting too, and it would be worth having it all written down, so I did turn it into a post after all. But I'm not really arguing any central point or anything; I'm really just comparing the dialogue and writing down my thoughts as I go.

-This also of course means my usual pro-JGY and consequently very annoyed at NMJ biases are on display. As ever, if this will upset you, please don't read!!

-This is a comparison of the text of the dialogue, not everything about their interaction; I don't necessarily note it if e.g. the acting doesn't match the dialogue tags in MDZS, or what have you.

-To do a proper comparison, you really need to compare the Chinese text, not the English translation; this is what I'm doing, though of course I've included the English from the Youtube subs, for CQL, and from the Exiled Rebels translation for MDZS. (For the Youtube subs I recorded "Yao" as A-Yao and used da-ge instead of Big brother when 大哥 was used and er-ge when 二哥 was used, just because this is my habit when copying down the dialogue.)

-Speaking of which: for MDZS, I just copied from the text, but for the CQL dialogue both English and Chinese I copied down the subs. I don't actually speak Chinese, but fortunately CQL on Youtube has the Chinese subs as well; my reading level in Chinese is also completely terrible, but I can often recognize most or many of the characters, and what I can't I can find by identifying radicals or drawing it in a handwriting recognition thing, etc. I did my best to be careful and thorough, and I also checked it against the Chinese subs I downloaded from Netflix, but there may still be some errors, fair warning. This also means that, unlike the Chinese from MDZS, the CQL Chinese dialogue isn't punctuated beyond spacing it out as it appeared on the screen; this is because the Chinese subs aren't punctuated, and I am certainly not going to make that judgement myself.

-The characters that differ in a given line between the MDZS and CQL versions are bolded, to help make the difference visually clear.

With that aside, the comparison is below the cut.

CQL

LXC: 阿瑶大哥他心性不比从前你千万不要再惹怒他了他最近深受刀灵侵扰之苦若不是你日日给他弹清心音的话恐怕他 A-Yao. Da-ge's temperament is getting worse. Don't ever displease him again. He's been subject to the harassment of his blade lately. If you hadn't been playing Cleansing Music for him everyday, I'm afraid he'd be…

MDZS

LXC: 只是一时气愤，口不择言罢了。大哥现在心性不比从前，你千万不要再惹怒他了。他最近深受刀灵侵扰之苦，怀桑又和他争吵置气，到今天还没和好。 His anger was simply too great for him to have thought before speaking. Brother’s temper cannot compare to how it was in the past. You must not provoke him again. These past few days, he has been deeply troubled by the saber spirit, and HuaiSang has argued with him again. They still have not made up yet, even today.

I'm comparing the CQL dialogue to the equivalent dialogue in MDZS, but of course in MDZS this exchange isn't before the stairs in ch 49; rather it's part of a broader conversation NMJ hears before he bursts in to try and kill JGY on the spot, because he doesn't like how JGY is talking to LXC about him, in ch 50. (Note, incidentally, how obviously impossible this renders the task of not displeasing da-ge, even aside from his not being satisfied with anything less than Xue Yang's head, as JGY and LXC were having a private conversation at the time.) The mention of NMJ and NHS' falling out is removed, replaced with the information that JGY has been playing to MMJ "every day"; the reference to NMJ calling JGY son of a whore is of course removed, since it hasn't happened yet. One effect of this relocation is on our understanding of LXC's injunction not to "displease him again/provoke him again" (再惹怒他 in both). In MDZS, this seems to refer to the stairs incident where JGY talked back (as the text notes, unusually); here perhaps it might be read as suggesting that JGY somehow has a habit of avoidably displeasing NMJ, which I think is absurd.

However, that's not the only possible interpretation. Although CQL doesn't quite give us the scene mentioned in chapter 30, where NMJ shows up and lectures JGS into announcing XY would be executed (…and heaps abuse on JGY when he tries to intervene, terrifying JGY sufficiently that he hides behind LXC—observe that in the sentence immediately prior to this we are also told that NMJ had unsheathed his sabre), in episode 35 we are told that all the clans wanted to punish XY except for JGS, and given a brief flashback to JGS yelling. Therefore, I think, it's not unreasonable to assume that something like the scene described in ch 30 occurred in CQL. Perhaps LXC is referring to this, although of course JGY would still be held between the fatal opposition of NMJ's and his father's wishes.

It's also relevant of course that in removing the surrounding context, CQL removes the context of the conversation of JGY expressing his pain about how NMJ treats him, and LXC replying, and rather turns it into an apparently unprompted expression of concern on LXC's part.

CQL

NMJ: 金光瑶 Jin Guangyao!

MDZS

It's worth noting, I think, that in MDZS NMJ never refers to JGY as "Jin Guangyao" throughout the entire stairs encounter.

CQL

LXC: 大哥怎么了 Da-ge, what's wrong?

MDZS

LXC: 大哥 Da-ge?

CQL

NMJ: 你别动你出来 (to LXC) Don't move. (to JGY) Come out.

MDZS

NMJ: 你别动你出来 (to LXC) Don't move. (To JGY) Come out.

CQL

JGY: 二哥劳烦你帮我再过一眼百花宴贵宾的名单我先去和大哥说点私事回头再请你讲解 Er-ge, please check the list of guests of the Floral Banquet for me. I need to talk some private affairs with da-ge. I'll explain it to you later.

MDZS

JGY: 二哥劳烦你再帮我理一理这条，我先去和大哥说点私事，回头再请你讲解 Brother, could you please help me go through this one? I have some private matters to discuss with our eldest brother. I’ll have to ask for your explanation at a later time.

Interestingly the exact same sentence in the Chinese, 回头再请你讲解, is translated in CQL as JGY's promise to explain later—where the implication seems to be he'll explain about what he's discussing with NMJ, perhaps?—and in MDZS as JGY's intention to ask /LXC/ to explain (the work he's going over in JGY's absence) later. In MDZS, of course, they're working on the watchtowers…while in CQL host with the most LXC is /helping JGY put his banquet guest lists together/, omg. I wish they'd kept more about the watchtowers but I admit I enjoy this as well. They plan parties together!

In both CQL and MDZS NMJ tries to hit JGY after they are outside and before further words are exchanged.

CQL

JGY: 大哥何必如此有话好说 Da-ge. Why act like this? We can talk nicely, can't we?

MDZS

JGY: 大哥，何必如此，有话好说。 Brother, why the rage? Let’s calm down.

CQL

NMJ: 薛洋呢 Where is Xue Yang?

MDZS

NMJ: 薛洋呢 Where's Xue Yang?

CQL

JGY: 他已被关入地牢终身不释 He's been shut up in the dungeon, for life time.

MDZS

JGY: 他已被关入地牢，终身不释…… He’s already been locked inside the dungeon, imprisoned for life…

CQL

NMJ: 我当年在不净世是怎么跟你说的我要他血债血偿你却给他来个终身不释 What did I tell you in the Yet Clean Realm at that time? I want him to pay his killing debts. You now give him life imprisonment.

MDZS

NMJ: 当初你在我面前是怎么说的 (JGY is silent) 我要他血债血偿，你却给他个终身不释？ What did you say to me back then? (JGY is silent) I wanted him to pay blood with blood, yet you have him imprisoned for life?

"What did you say to me back then" is interesting; we're not actually given a specific time or a specific thing said, which means we must speculate. An obvious candidate for 'back then' would be the ch 30 scene previously mentioned, when NMJ convinces the Jin to announce that they'll execute XY. Yet the Jin giving in on executing XY seems to come /after/ JGY is sufficiently frightened by NMJ that he hides behind LXC, "not daring to say anything else." NMJ is perhaps conflating JGY with JGY's father, or perhaps assigning to JGY an authority he does not in fact possess, as though JGY and not JGS was the person who made decisions for the Jin.

In CQL of course NMJ takes the position that /Jin Guangyao/ owes him obedience because Meng Yao used to be NMJ's servant—not even just that, but that Jin Guangyao must display obedience to orders NMJ gave several years ago, when JGY was MY. This is absurd and insulting, and even before NMJ actually calls him Meng Yao it demonstrates that NMJ does not actually recognize JGY's legitimacy /as/ Jin Guangyao. Honestly, I don't have the words.

CQL

JGY: 只要他受到惩罚无法再犯终身不释和血债血偿也并无 As long as he's punished, and can't recommit crimes, I can't see the difference between life imprisonment and death sentence.

MDZS

JGY: 只要他受到惩罚，无法再犯，终身不释与血债血偿也并无…… As long as he receives his punishment and can’t offend again, perhaps paying blood with blood and being imprisoned for life is…

CQL

NMJ: 我问你当年在不净世究竟是谁放走了薛洋是我的总领还是你 Tell me. When we were at Yet Clean Realm, who on earth released Xue Yang? It was my captain, or you?

MDZS

NMJ: 你举荐的好客卿，做出的好事情！事到如今你还敢袒护他！ The good things that the good guest cultivator whom you recommended has done! Things are already like this and you still dare defend him!

Imho, this gets to a central fault in the CQL XY storyline—why the heck is NMJ trying to have XY killed for the Chang killings, instead of for collaborating with the Wen and/or for killing a bunch of his men??????

I tend to put that aside because it doesn't… actually… make any sense at all, especially since CQL NMJ is quite clearly still preoccupied with XY's old crimes.

CQL

JGY: 我没有我为什么要放走他不过当初是当初现在常萍已经翻供没有任何明确证据证明薛洋屠杀了常氏五十人而我父亲又一定要留下这个人 It wasn't me. Why should I let him go? But the past is in the past, Chang Ping had withdrawn his confession. No certain evidence can prove that Xue Yang had massacred 50 people of Chang clan. And my father insists on keeping him alive.

MDZS

JGY: 我没有袒护他，栎阳常氏那件事我也很震惊，我怎会料到薛洋会杀了人全家五十多口人？可我父亲一定要留着这个人…… I didn’t defend him. I was also shocked by the case of the Changyang Yue Sect. How could I have known that Xue Yang would kill more than fifty people? But my father was set on keeping him…

So—I'm sorry, that in CQL Chang Ping has already withdrawn his testimony makes this completely absurd. In MDZS, that doesn't happen until /after/ NMJ's death, after the Jin have been hounding him! In CQL, the situation appears to be that they have officially condemned him to the dungeons for life /purely based on NMJ's pressure/, with no actual clear evidence at all—and note that unlike in MDZS, where the Chang killings happened like a month beforehand and XXC presents the evidence that it was XY to the assembled clans, in CQL the killings happened /several years ago before a war/ and Songxiao didn't present any evidence it was XY to anyone else at the time that we saw. I mean, they didn't need to because at the time he confessed when challenged,* but it's not at all clear to me what if any evidence is left! And—in this situation where the one surviving victim is publically saying it wasn't XY, and they're /still officially locking him up for life on NMJ's say-so/—NMJ thinks that JGY should nevertheless go and execute XY.

*To an audience that if I am not misremembering included JC, who was alive and a sect leader independent from NMJ and could presumably have been asked to testify at the trial. This doesn't seem to ever be mentioned, however. Again, the CQL XY subplot doesn't make a huge amount of sense.

I can only guess that they moved up the Chang Ping revokes his testimony timeline to emphasize Jin power? But to me it has almost the opposite effect, since if they're still locking XY up on NMJ's say-so it rather suggests /NMJ's/ power; and more to the point it makes NMJ's already frankly unreasonable demand completely and ludicrously absurd.

CQL

NMJ: 为什么他身上还有一块阴铁你不知道吗你把他重新招揽回来究竟是为了什么你自己心里清楚 Why? Don't you know he's got a shard of Yin Iron on him? You're trying to reclaim him now. I can clearly see what you have in mind.

MDZS

NMJ: 震惊？招揽他的是谁？举荐他的是谁？重用他的是谁？少拿你父亲当幌子，薛洋在干什么，你会不知道吗？！ Shocked? Who was the one that invited him? Who was the one that recommended him? Who was the one that regarded him highly? Don’t use your father as excuse. How could you not have known what Xue Yang was doing?!

English of course doesn't distinguish between plural and singular second-person, but I think it's worth noting that NMJ is using singular here, 你, and not plural. This is true in both CQL and MDZS. In MDZS, I think the problem is that, although he is in fact referring to things JGY individually did, he refuses to accept the truth of JGY's position: that whatever JGY knew or did not know, he can't actually afford to kill XY if that's not what JGS wants. In CQL, by contrast, the problem is that he's locating the desire to obtain the Yin Iron specifically in JGY, despite JGS'…well, JGS' entire everything.

CQL

JGY: 大哥真的是我父亲的命令我无法拒绝你现在要我处置薛洋我该怎么去跟他交代 Da-ge, this is really my father's order. I couldn't deny. If you want me to execute Xue Yang now, in which way can I report this to him?

MDZS

JGY: 大哥，真的是我父亲的命令。我没法拒绝。你现在要我处置薛洋，你让我怎么跟他交代 Brother, it really was my father’s orders. I couldn’t refuse. Now, if you want me to take care of Xue Yang, what would I say to him?

The use of 你 vs the more formal 您 throughout this exchange is interesting. In their exchange before JGY goes outside with NMJ, he uses 你 for LXC; here, he uses 你 for NMJ, but you can see throughout the exchange he seems to use both. It would probably be very interesting to go through the text and observe which JGY uses, to whom, and when.

CQL

MDZS

NMJ: 不必废话，提薛洋头来见。 There’s no need for explanations. Come back to me with Xue Yang’s head in your hand.

CQL

—

MDZS

JGY "wanted to speak"

I think the upshot of these exchanges is much the same in CQL and in MDZS, despite its shortening in CQL: NMJ utterly rejects the validity of JGY's desire to give NMJ a /reason/ for going against JGS' explicit wishes, the explicit wishes, I remind you, of a man he has a moral duty to obey as his clan head and father. Truly, we can only imagine how NMJ would react to JGY killing someone against the wishes of the leader of the clan he served because he deserves it in JGY's own moral judgement… Except of course we don't have to imagine it, because it occurs in both CQL and MDZS, albeit differently. It's not that NMJ recognizes as a general principle that subordinates should be allowed to kill people against their leader's wishes if that subordinate judges their victim deserves it; it's simply that he believes in the primacy of his own, obviously righteous judgement. (And in CQL, again, there isn't any actual definite evidence, and Chang Ping has retracted his testimony.)

I think the main things the slightly more extended MDZS version has, not present in CQL, is, first, the explicit visual of XY's head, and second, that NMJ's subsequent response isn't a response to JGY's actual speech; JGY was about to speak in reply, and NMJ responds in irritation to what he thinks JGY is going to say—responds, indeed, by calling him 'Meng Yao'.

(Next)

#long meta #anger burned in his heart #more than one tag could contain #we can't change places

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ofmermaidstories · 3 years

Note

Spoilers for the latest chapter of Something!

I'm gonna go ahead and apologize now because this is long; please feel free to ignore my wordy ass, I just have a lot of feelings about a certain someone that showed up in the new chapter lol.

I am still trying to get my shit together enough to write a proper review, but I did want to come yell at you for making the grape boy somewhat likeable, like...

Firstly, how??? Secondly, why?????!?!

Lmao, in all seriousness tho, it's nice to see him have a personality that isn't just "Mmmm, tits" *drools* I like to think that everyone in the series grows up and (mostly) out of the worst of their habits, and while Mineta is still a bit of a lecher here he isn't nearly as offensive/creepy as he comes off in show. In fact he's actually sympathetic in a lot way. The bit about seeing his first dead body before "getting laid" hit different like... He tries to play it off like a joke, but dude has to have just as much PTSD as the rest of them, maybe even more given that he wasn't able to fight back in the same way as someone like Bkg or Deku would be able to with their super powerful offensive quirks. They were all just kids, but they had to face hell full on from jump, and let me stop before I get too in my feelings lol.

In a lot of ways, he reminds of you the boys from school — crude. Taking for granted the safety from being in a pack, unchallenged. Leering at posters, saying off-colour things because no one corrects them.

That's exactly the way I view him, just a crude little thing that refuses to be put in his place for long lol. Still, with his being a hero I would hope that he keeps a cap on it while he's on the job--in fact I'm sure he does; if he didn't I'm sure that Aizawa would've yanked his licence by now, the likes of Deku and Kiri wouldn't continue to associate with him, and that's saying nothing of the shit that would get posted to social mead and such. I feel like the only reason he says what he says to the Reader is b/c she's a little gremlin herself and he knows he's got a bit more leeway, yanno?

The little hangout session that they had at the end of the chapter was weirdly heartwarming?? I want a friend(???) that I can be a surly little shit with and draw on and that will call my bf that's not really my bf but should be my bf because he's (that is Mineta) got more emotional intelligence than me lmao. Never thought I'd see the day when the grape would make for such an excellent wingman--tho I gotta wonder what that text he sent to Deku said. Probably something along the lines of "come get yo girl, she must be bored/lonely af because she asked to hang out with me" followed by "are you ever gonna close the deal or not? or have you already hit it??? >:)" just to give the guy an extra push (or maybe he's got a better sense of self-preservation than what I give him credit for, idk lmfaooo...)

Okay, this is WAY too long, I just had to get it out of my system lol. I loved the new chapter lots and I cannot wait to see how things play out in the next one!!

LOL, oh Puck, i adore you sdlkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj

me being a shit-stirrer/asking myself questions i don’t have answers for under the cut

Cat asked me this question earlier today, actually — why Mineta. And honestly? Part of it is the challenge he represents — like, how do you write him into a fic and mature him up so that he’s at the very least, tolerable, but also keep the backbone of his character (which is being a little degenerate). Like, is it possible? One of the most popular tags on ao3 for mineta minoru is something along the lines of “mineta minoru is replaced with shinsou hitoshi” LOL so…….. why didn’t I just use Shinsou? Or Aoyama or Iida, as Cat suggested? And beyond the part of me that delights in giving myself perceived challenges, there were two stark reasons that stuck out to me, when i was first mulling over his inclusion.

1) the fact that he can draw. it’s literally as simple as that. ever since the BNHA exhibition opened up in Japan and it was revealed that there was a scene in there with a class blackboard and the kids having their little drawing competition — and that Mineta was objectively the most skilled — i was like, “i have to include that”. LOL. it’s like you say, Puck, our Reader is a little gremlin herself — i thought if I was going to write a Reader that could handle interacting with him (ie, be in a position to pay him out) it was going to be this one. I think being in the manga industry and starting out on this journey of creating and drawing a Shonen manga sort of put Reader in this unique position of… being in what seems like a boys’ club? So she’d be used to the male gaze within her field. I follow Horikoshi’s assistant (former assistant?) on twitter and let me tell you, that man is not shy about the things that he likes to draw LOL.

the 2) thing was the philosophy i’ve sort of accidentally given myself LOL and that’s the fact that — as a Bakugou stan, if i’m giving grace to a character who was a literal violent bully then………. i can use my magic powers and hand it around to the other characters, too, LOL. and like, i would argue that with Bakugou it’s different, like we’re currently seeing in the manga how he has grown and learnt and is actively changing, which is the key to any kind of redemption. do i think Mineta will ever undergo that in cannon? absolutely not lmao, i see him as being being Hori’s idea of comedic relief, he’s always going to be a horrible little degen. but i want it for him…… if only to justify why the boys of Class-A collectively ignore his bullshit, for the most part? Like, none of them actively call him out on it?? i think of the time he tried to climb the wall to spy on the girls in the onsen — and how it was literally only Iida scolding him and how it took a child to stop him. Or the one when he found the stupid hole into the girl’s changing room and while the boys all looked grossed out….. Jirou’s the one that point an end to that?????? I saw a TikTok (derogatory) suggesting how like, none of the girls of Class-A would trust Aizawa, as adults, because he didn’t do anything to put an end to Mineta’s bullshit, and it was a devastating suggesting. None of us want to believe that our favourites would be passively okay with this kind of behaviour, right?? Which means……. Mineta’s gotta change LMAO. And if Hori isn’t going to do it then imma borrow him and do it myself. Does it work? I have no idea LMAO i can’t judge anymore, my meter is broken. but i’m gonna work with what i’ve given myself and it either will, or it won’t LMAOOOO kldsfjlksdjflkdj fic is about having fun at the end of the day. :’)

But it’s like you point out, Puck — Mineta is also a child, when these kids get trotted out to their first War. And he’s also not as offensively built as the hard-hitters like Deku and Bakugou and Shouto are. Even if it’s not explored in the manga, that War is going to change them all somehow.

So, my gameplan for Mineta was to grab ahold of the tiny things about him — the talent for drawing, the like one [1] observation he has about the wreckage of the war/pro heroes during the war arc, his tears for Bakugou when B wakes up afterwards and how he tells Deku how cool he was and how much he admires him, in the current Bring Deku Home chapters — and try to envision a sleaze bag who learns that the bullshit he pulls won’t be tolerated, even if he’s still ultimately a skeeze LOL. i mean, he’s never going to drop that er…. appreciation for the female form. and i mean, hey, live your best life King, i’ve distinctly noticed a hand-fetish floating around on this site lately so i’m not gonna be like “NO men can’t like ANYTHING”. But the thing with him being a sleaze and open with his leering is like, he’s actively made the girls of his class uncomfortable with that in the past — how do you write it so that he’s not doing that in a position of power with the women he works with (and saves!), as an adult?? Maturity only goes so far. How much can I bank on the war and the subsequent bullshit they’re gonna face from it on…. transforming him??? It shouldn’t be up to the girls he’s learning with to police him, they’re just children. I have a vague gameplan for it — whether or not it works will be one thing; whether i can naturally shove it into the fic is another, LOL. Guess we’ll see. 🧐

SAYING ALL THAT,,,,, i’m actually really glad you liked (???) the ending scene with him because it’s my favourite LMAO lkdjflkdsjflkdjfkldsjf. 😭😭 Reader is by no means perfect, and she and Mineta both need to start treating each other with more respect, but her bullying of him was fun to write and I like imagining a Mineta who considers himself to be close with Deku (whether or not Deku thinks the same is up for debate) going along with it. i could see this version of Mineta being enough of a shit-stirrer to say something like, “gotta lock that shit down” to Deku LMAO kdfjlkdsjflkdsfjdklsfj and then getting left on a skyscraper somewhere…. RIP short King.

#the puckish rogue: adventures and magic 🪄✨🔮#something just like this - fic #mer-spoils-everything #ofmermaidstories-asks #mermaids talks about 🍇#puck you are always thoughtful and lovely with your comments and i want you to know how much i appreciate them — but mostly how much #i appreciate you for existing in this world 😭 and how by chance we exist at the same time and like the same things 😭💕🌷

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mizjoely · 3 years

Text

Day 12: Office Holiday Party

I've gone more than a bit off piste with this ASiB redo, but it does start with an office party, so there is that...It's also a bit long so it's under the cut below. Enjoy!

Office Holiday Party

She doesn’t attend John and Sherlock’s Christmas party, even though John invites her. It’s the same night as the St. Bart’s party and she attends that one instead, a spur-of-the-moment decision that she makes after thinking about (brooding a bit) the fact that it was John that invited her, somewhat off-handedly, rather than Sherlock. While she waffled she’d bought gifts for the two of them, and one for Mrs. Hudson, Greg Lestrade, and even something for John’s new girlfriend (the ‘boring teacher with the dogs’, is how she vaguely recalls Sherlock’s description of the poor woman). She debates her decision long and hard, but in the end caution wins out over hope, and off to Barts she pops. She’ll deliver the gifts on her way home, she decides, if it isn't too late.

She wears a new dress - black, with black straps decorated in silver and a fitted skirt (she never learned the proper names of skirt shapes aside from “pencil” and “mini”). She carefully does her hair, letting it cascade down her back, and dons a silver bow in honor of the season; she drinks a bit too much rum punch and enjoys herself as much as someone who’s as socially awkward as she is can.

As she’s gathering her things preparatory to leaving - still of two minds whether she’ll go home or stop by 221B Baker Street - she hears a commotion by the doors. She looks over, surprised and a little disconcerted to see Sherlock Holmes in the company of a slightly older man she’s never seen before.

“Ah, Sherlock, good of you to join us!” Mike Stamford says, cheeks flushed with hearty good cheer - and more than a bit of that rum punch. He thrusts a plastic cup into Sherlock’s hand. “Toast the season with us, eh?”

Sherlock doesn’t take so much as a single polite sip, simply hands the cup back to Mike while his eyes scan the crowd. He stops when he finds Molly, their eyes meeting, and he beelines for her while Mike sputters a protest (and quickly downs the rejected drink) and the stranger follows in Sherlock’s wake.

She recognizes him when they get closer; she doesn’t know his name but she’s seen him around the hospital once or twice during government inspections. “Miss Hooper,” he says, his voice very much Government Official, “if you would be so kind, there’s a body we need to examine.”

She looks uncertainly at Sherlock - surely they don’t want her to perform an autopsy when she’s half in the bag! - and he offers her a curt nod. “We just need to look at it,” he says, his voice a bit rough with some unidentifiable (to her, at any rate) emotion. “To possibly identify it. Her.”

Molly stammers out her willingness to be of help and the three of them head down to the morgue. She finds the proper drawer and wheels the body out for the two men (who is the older man and how does he know Sherlock?) to examine.

The face is badly damaged, bashed in with some sort of blunt instrument so she’s not sure exactly how they’re going to be able to identify the woman - but then Sherlock whisks back the sheet and nods. “It’s her.”

He turns and leaves without another word, and Molly looks over at Mr. Government. “Who is she?” she asks. “And how did he identify her from...not her face?”

The man gives her a rather pitying smile, then leaves without answering either question.

She puts the body back and heads out, only to find Sherlock waiting for her. He smells of cigarettes but she can hardly blame him for needing some sort of crutch, not tonight. “Share a cab?” he asks, then escorts into the one that arrives at his hail, climbing in next to her.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

He shrugs. “How was the party?” he asks, obviously changing the subject.

She shrugs back at him. “It was all right, I guess. Lots of booze and people getting a bit too chummy with each other, if you know what I mean.” She laughs somewhat self-consciously. “Of course you know what I mean, what was I thinking, putting it that way.”

“What about you?”

“Pardon? What about me?” she asks, confused.

He’s looking straight ahead, not at her, and his jaw is clenched. “Did you get ‘a bit too chummy’ with anyone?” He reaches out, still without looking, and fingers the fabric of her skirt. “That’s a new dress, a bit fancy for an office party, don’t you think? And that shade of lipstick, such a bright red!” He glances critically at her bag of gifts - gifts for him and the others who’d attended the party at 221B - and adds with a sneer, “It matches the ribbon on that top gift, the one you’ve taken so much care to wrap. For your new boyfriend?”

Before Molly can do more than gape at him - her cheeks reddening in humiliation, he continues, his lip curling in a sneer, “Judging by your appearance, Miss Hooper, it’s obvious you have lurrrve on your mind.”

She wants to slap him. She wants to slap him three times, so badly that she balls her hands into fists to keep from doing so. “Are you finished?” she asks when he finally falls silent. “I know you’ve had a shock tonight, but that’s no excuse to take it out on me!” She shakes her head. “You always say such terrible things.”

They remain in cold, uncomfortable silence almost until they reach Molly’s flat. As she starts to get out of the cab he stops her with a hand on her arm. “I am sorry,” he says softly. “Forgive me.” Then he leans forward and drops a kiss on her cheek.

“Why?” she asks, ignoring the cabbie’s grumbled complaints of ‘you gettin’ out or not, miss?’ from the driver’s seat. “Sherlock, what’s going on? Who was that woman?” She draws in a deep breath and asks him the question she’d asked the other man at the hospital. “How did you recognize her from not her face?”

Sherlock responds by handing the annoyed cabbie the fare, then ushering her out of the cab and joining her on the pavement. “Let’s go inside, shall we?” he says, indicating her front door. Still a bit dazed, Molly unlocks the door and waits until they’ve shed overcoats and shoes (no wet shoes on her nice clean carpets, thank you very much!) and settled on the sofa.

“Not what I would have expected,” he says, glancing around and taking in the clean, cool colors and lines of her minimalist first floor.

“I had a decorator in,” she says with a shrug. “I need someplace calm to unwind after a hectic day’s work and...Sherlock,” she interrupts herself, daringly placing a hand on his, “please. Tell me.”

So he does; surprisingly, he tells her even more than she’d asked. Irene Adler is the woman’s name - no, The Woman, she thinks with a pang. She can hear the capitalization, the importance of this client, in the way he speaks, sees the pain he’s trying to hide in his eyes. “You look sad,” she blurts out as he finally falls silent. She ignores the silent rejoicing in her heart at his description of his and John’s first meeting with Irene and her nudity, instead giving his hand a slight squeeze of sympathy. “I’m sorry, she must have meant a great deal to you even though she was a client.”

A client and definitely an adversary of sorts; just the sort of woman to pique his interest, she thinks sadly. Not like me at all.

“Stop that,” Sherlock says sharply, and Molly looks up at him, startled. She’s even more startled to realize that their hands are still clasped; when she tries to pull away he makes an irritated sort of growling noise and holds her tighter. “You’re thinking far too loudly, Molly. There’s no need for you to be jealous. Yes, I admit, she caught my attention, she was a challenge but don’t ever feel you need to compare yourself to her.”

With a flash of insight - that she prays isn’t just her hopes, however forlorn, getting the better of her - Molly breathes out a soft “Oh” and says, “You don’t have to be jealous either, Sherlock.” She reaches with her free hand into the bag of gifts and pulls out the top one with its red bow and careful wrapping and hands it to him. “Go on, read the tag.”

Brow furrowed, he does so, remaining silent for a long pair of minutes before finally speaking. “Dearest Sherlock, love Molly,” he reads, then looks up at her. “Girlfriends aren’t my area, Molly.”

She nods. “I-I understand.” She can feel tears clogging her throat but she’s never been one to cry in front of anyone, especially not a man. Certainly not this man.

She tries to pull her hand away again, only to let out a muffled squeak as he suddenly hauls her closer, until their faces are only inches apart. “I’ll be a terrible boyfriend, Molly, but perhaps...you’d be willing to give me a chance?”

Then he kisses her, and she kisses him back, and all she can think is that if she’d just gone to his party in the first place, maybe they could have been doing this that much sooner. Or perhaps not; either way, she’ll never know, but she’s happy enough with the way things have turned out not to care.

#dis is mine #sherlolly #fandom christmas in july #mizjoely writes #mizjoely's fics

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alternateafterthought · 4 years

Text

Arcane - Part 2

ARCANE

Ø Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø Warnings: None

Ø Word Count: 2176

Ø A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! Thank you to everyone who has showed interest in the first part! I hope you really enjoy the next part of this fic!! I would really love your feedback!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! Thank you so much!!

PREV / NEXT

J-Hope had started with the oldest. Introductions to the fox hybrid, who called himself Seokjin, was quiet and welcomed by Y/N.

He had sat down across from Y/N and they simple spoke. Y/N had asked how long he had been in the shelter.

“8 months.” Jin had nodded, with a small sad smile on his face. “My previous owner was an elderly couple who treated me like their grandson. They have passed since then.”

Y/N had held his hand and they spoke for a few more minutes before J-Hope came back. After Seokjin was the German Shepard hybrid who was much taller than Y/N and wearing a pair of thick glasses. He seemed so put together as he introduced himself, offering his large hand, but ultimately his foot caught on the chair leg, causing the large man to trip a little.

Somehow, Y/N caught him, helping him to steady his feet as he started to blush. Y/N helped him to stand, fixing the shirt he wore to be a little straighter, flattening the hair that stood up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay. Everyone trips sometimes.”

The hybrid smiled a wide dimpled smile and introduced himself as Namjoon, a hybrid who until recently was a police hybrid. He didn’t exactly what to share why he was no longer on the force, but Y/N knew when never to push a subject.

Namjoon was there for a few more minutes before J-Hope came for him, leaving a very bright, highly active Golden Retriever hybrid. His boxy smile and bright eyes caused Y/N to return his wide smile, offering her hand but instead being wrapped in the hybrid’s arms.

His deep voice introduced him as “Taehyung”, his enthusiasm for life was refreshing. He was so warm and lively; his stories were so active that Y/N couldn’t help but to be completely interested in what he talked about. He left no room for awkwardness and it was honestly something Y/N loved.

“I’ve only been here for 2 months but they let me paint and draw and take photos like my old owners used to.” Taehyung’s energetic response only made Y/N that much happier to be around him.

J-Hope came to collect Taehyung a few minutes later, Taehyung saying bye with a hug again. This time Y/N was left with J-Hope only, no other hybrid, at least not yet it would seem. J-Hope sat Y/N down, obviously needing to have some type of serious talk with Y/N about something.

“So, I just wanted to check in with you, make sure you’re okay?” J-Hope sat on the edge of his seat.

“I’m doing well. They are some amazing men aren’t they.” Y/N smiled widely, not as wide as J-Hope though.

“They are amazing men.” J-Hope emphasised the word “Men”, like it wasn’t something normally heard about them. “I would like to give you a bit of a warning for the next one though.”

From the look of J-Hope’s eyes scanning over to where the files sat on the opposite side of the table to them. The final hybrid that hadn’t been in to see her yet sat on top; the feline hybrid was always a concern for J-Hope. Not in a bad way, but more in a way that if anyone was to be adopted today, J-Hope would hope that it was him.

With a raised eyebrow, J-Hope continued to speak; “There is nothing wrong with him, he’s great just like the others. But I do have to legally tell you that if you do not adopt him today, he will be sent away to a breeding facility.”

“But he isn’t the oldest. You said Seokjin was the oldest right? So why is he not being sent to a breeding facility?” Y/N asked honestly.

“Seokjin is the oldest but he has not been here long, and with his past he is someone easily adopted by the elderly.” J-Hope looked Y/N in the eye. “Yoongi has been in and out of here his entire life. He has spent more time in this shelter then he has in a home.”

“Is there something wrong with him?” Y/N had to ask. “I only ask so I can make a proper decision today.”

“He’s quiet and a panther hybrid. So, people usually think he’s mean or scary and really…” J-Hope shook his head as he thought about the next hybrid. “He’s the sweetest guy.” He smiled. “I’ll bring him in.”

Y/N waited all of 30 seconds for J-Hope to return to the room with a feline hybrid behind him. Said hybrid trailed behind, before J-Hope smiled and bowed his head slightly before leaving the room, his ears stood tall, his tail, the same opal black as his ears and hair swayed behind him.

It seemed this shelter was a lot freer when it came to what they were dressed in, Y/N had noticed that all three previous hybrids had all been in something different. She liked that even though they were all in black, white, and grey, they all seemed to have a different personality, even with clothing. Like Yoongi, who now stepped into the room, black jeans, black sweater, and black shoes. Everything matched, his ears, his tails, his clothing, everything except his eyes.

His eyes practically glowed, even in the well-lit room, his eyes seemed to completely glow. Y/N noticed his eyes were gold, almost like honey from where he stood next to the window by the door. He honestly looked bored, his eyes heavy lidded, like he had trouble keeping them open, his mouth sat in a straight line, though his lips were slightly parted. Most of his bangs seemed to cover his eyes and still they were the most striking feature of his face.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Y/N offered her hand, just like she had with the others. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Yoongi raised his hands, palms up as the door was closed. “I don’t want to know your name. I don’t want you to adopt me. I will be honest with you; I am here against my will.” He saw Y/N’s raised eyebrow as her hand dropped back to her side before he kept talking. “I talked to J-Hope, I told him I didn’t want to be adopted again and would be find to just live here the rest of my life.”

“You really think they’ll let you stay here?” Y/N had to ask, thinking of the note on his file, the one letting her know he wouldn’t be able to stay here.

“I’ve been here long enough. J-Hope will let me stay.” Yoongi was determined to stay it would seem. “I’m not some pet you can just adopt for fun.” Yoongi seemed to look Y/N up and down. “You seem young and… adventurous,” He made eye contact with her again. “Why would you want a hybrid anyway? For sex?”

For a moment Y/N just stared at him, before bursting out laughing. Yoongi was shocked to see the women in front of him full body laugh, her hand holding onto the table as her legs gave way. She laughed hard and loud, curling in on her knees as Yoongi just stood there watching her.

When she finally composed herself, she wiped away a few stray tears as she stood, giggling a little still. She hauled herself off the floor, fixing her dress before facing Yoongi again, still slightly giggling.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh that much.” Y/N held her hand out for him again. “Trust me I don’t want a pet and I don’t want a hybrid for sex. The least you can do when you meet someone new is shake their hand.”

Yoongi was hesitant at first but his large hand eventually enveloped Y/N’s smaller one; “So why do you want a hybrid? An older hybrid at that.”

“Freedom.” Y/N pulled her hand away from Yoongi’s, offering him to sit with her. “My parents are kinda overbearing, and I need a way out. A hybrid would give me that freedom to just… live.”

“Why can’t you live by yourself?” Yoongi boldly asked.

“Why do you want to stay here?” Y/N countered.

Both of them seemed to just stare at each other, waiting for one of them to say something. Both of them could see that neither of them were going to be the first one to talk so Y/N picked up his file before sitting it in front of him. Yoongi looked down at it before away, only to take a double look at the note next to his picture.

“So, what, your showing me this to make me beg you to adopt me?” Yoongi pushed his file back towards Y/N, who was quick to catch it.

“I’m give you a way out.” Y/N spoke honestly. “We can help each other. You get out of this…” Y/N tapped the file. “And I get out of overbearing parents.”

Y/N would never have admitted, but as amazing as the first three hybrids were, she had chosen Yoongi already. He was in a similar situation to her, he needed a way out, to live on his own terms. So, they could help each other, they could be the reason both of them could survive in this world. She hoped he would take the opportunity to help himself as much as her.

“And what? I live with you as your pet? As some sex hybrid for you?”

“Seriously, what is with you and sex?” Y/N asked. “Are you in heat?”

Yoongi gave Y/N a look that made her want to start giggling again, but she kept it in as her fingers tapped on the table. She sighed, covering up any giggle that might have escaped her before opening his file to the adoption forms. J-Hope had told her the forms were in the files for her for sign for whoever she wanted straight away.

Taking the forms out she slid them across to Yoongi; “If you’re willing, I’ll sign them now and we can be back at my hotel in the next hour before my parents find out I’m missing.”

“They don’t know you’re here? Adopting me?” Yoongi’s eyes widened.

“I’m supposed to be in my hotel room in bed. Surprisingly, I’m not as fragile as they believe.”

“But your parents have to give permission for you to adopt right?” Yoongi couldn’t help to ask.

“I’m 24. I don’t need written permission to do anything.” Y/N spoke confidently.

“So why are your parents… ya know?” Yoongi had to ask.

“That is a story for another day.” Y/N looked at the large clock on the wall, she had spent 10 minutes with the first 3 hybrids each, now it was rounding out to be half an hour all together, she was just glad half the adoption was already underway, she just needed the hybrid now. “So, would you like to get out of here?”

“Will we be living with your parents?” Y/N could tell Yoongi had already decided to leave with her, he was simply scared it would seem.

“My grandparents left me their cottage in their will. We will be living on the opposite side of town to my parents.” Y/N nodded, thinking of the cottage she had moved into when she turned 21, even with her parents against it. “I will tell you now that the town I live in is kinda small, but it’s surrounded by forests and rivers and honestly… it’s peaceful.”

Yoongi seemed to think about something, considering all of his options. Even he could see he didn’t have many of them, none in which gave him the freedom to just live. If he ended up at a breeding facility he would regress and had the possibility of going savage. If he ran away, he could be captured or die on the streets or turned in by the HPA or even be killed by hybrid hate groups. But if he went with Y/N, maybe she’d let him be free too.

“You’re not some weird woman who sells her hybrids for sex or something right?” Yoongi smirked.

“Seriously, what is it with you and sex?” Y/N raised her arms in question with a small smile on her face.

“I just wanted to make sure you aren’t some crazy person,” Yoongi pushed the forms back across the table, sitting a pen on top of it. “I need to know who it is I’m going to be living with.”

Y/N signed the forms, quickly scribbling her signature on the bottom of the page before handing it to Yoongi to sign too. With both signatures on the form’s Y/N moved to the door, sticking her head out to see J-Hope sitting outside the door. He stood up quickly, fixing the purple shirt he wore with a hopeful smile on his face as Y/N handed the 4 files back to him.

“Oh… were none of them for you?” J-Hope looked almost sad.

“Just the one.” Y/N showed him her other hand with the adoption forms, signed.

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