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#fantasic beasts fanfic
elianas-cozycorner · 1 year
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𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕿𝖔 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 | 𝕹𝖊𝖜𝖙 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗
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Chapter One | Sweden
Summary: Several months after sharing a longing, intimate moment with your boss, Newt, you find yourself in the heart of a thrilling adventure.
Will chasing smugglers, taming dragons, and awkward family dinners be the key to pushing the two of you closer?
Author's Note: Here is the long awaited, long requested sequel to my fiction "Stumped"! Please, to all those who had previously enjoyed the story and requested this, accept my sincerest apologies.
I never knew how to continue the plotline until now. Rest assured, this multi-chapter fic will have everything you could ever desire! Depending on how this goes, I may change the rating. (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)
Disclaimer: I have made this work non-compliant with canon for several reasons. Including a) lack of desire to be associated with films 2 & 3, b) for flow and story purposes, and c) because I do not condone J.K.R's behavior and wish to use my writing to bring joy despite the hurt she has caused.
Ao3 - General Audience Word Count: 1099 Warnings: None
"And so it was that you were left to sketch and think. It seemed that Newt was not the only one in a predicament, as confusion too clouded your mind. You were stumped. Stumped as to why Newt had seemed so pleased with your staring, why his smiling never ceased, and why he had chosen to keep you in his company after that. " - Stumped (2020)
/////
The air was hot, the wind scorching, and no relief could be found in any amount of water you carried. Despite the great altitude, no snow decorated the cliff faces and mountain peaks. Each breath only served to fuel coughing fits, what with the dryness and heavy musk of dragon. By all accounts, the world should have been covered in white, howling winds should have whipped ice across the craggy stone, and you definitely shouldn’t have been in a simple blouse and trousers. 
Yet, here you were. Wand drawn and a thin cloth covering your mouth, without any form of elemental protection. You’d always imagined your first trip to Sweden would be for recreation. Though, you supposed, searching for a smuggled Swedish Short-snout hatchling was more exciting than an office job at the Ministry.
“How are you fairing, darling?” A smooth, strong voice called to you.
You looked up at the man, watching him clamber up another outcropping of rock. Newt was in as much a state of discomfort as you were. His once voluminous curls fell, soaked with sweat, into his face, his shirt sleeves were rolled up above his elbow, and the cloth he held to his face was grimy. However, there was a crinkle at the corner of his eye that told you just how much he was enjoying this. You couldn’t help but return his smile though he couldn’t see it. 
“Perfectly content, Mr. Scamander! I only wonder at the heat, it is unexpected!” You tried your best to keep your voice level. 
“She must be in distress,” He took a moment to catch his breath. “I haven’t seen any blue flames yet, so she is still a good way up.”
“I suppose she’s turned much of the mountain side up there black.” You caught up with him and leaned on him for support.
“And any foliage to ash,” There was a fondness in his voice. “It’s likely how she escaped her captors to begin with. Many smugglers are unprepared for the heat of a Short-snout’s fire.”
You nodded and flicked your wand. The charm was quick to take effect, cooling both of you instantly. You would not risk cleansing your attire or casting a verbal spell here. The sweat and dragon musk clung to your clothing like a natural camouflage. It would be hard for the dragon to detect you, much less so if you kept your spell-casting to a minimum. 
Newt thanked you once he’d finished taking a sip of water. The synthetic waterskin was enchanted to keep its contents cool and permanently full. He offered it to you shyly, bumping it against your hand gently. 
“Drink.” His voice was soft, gentle. He wouldn’t command you to drink against your will, but there was a heavy tone of suggestion there nonetheless. It was your turn to thank him.
You took the waterskin, careful not to let your touch linger too long. Ever since that day in the suitcase, when your eyes had met and the world slowed to a stop, things had been different. Awkward. It never hindered your work, never interfered with your capabilities in tending to and drawing Mr. Scamander’s creatures, but it was always there. For you, anyway. It didn’t seem as though Newt understood how wholly that moment changed things for you. He was too sweet, too gentlemanly, to think of it as anything other than a moment between friends. 
“Try to keep up, Mr. Scamander.” You forged ahead, unable to stand beside him for longer than was necessary. 
Eventually, your trek up the mountainside proved fruitful. Newt once again led the way up. The heat only worsened, but that was to be expected when the stone underfoot was blackened and cracked. Any plants that may have grown from crevices in the rock were turned into small piles of ash, blown about by the wind. Which, as it happened, was not wind at all. The second thing to catch the eye of one Mr. Newt Scamander, was the flurry of movement from above. He placed his hand out behind him, palm facing you, and brought a finger to his lips. Then he pointed up.
Above, on an outcropping of stone, giant wings beat the air and battered against the rocks. Occasionally, chunks of char and sediment were flung down or broke off. The sound of the dragon’s beating wings paired with the gusts of wind against your skin. You had not been listening to the rage of mother nature. Instead, it had been the hatchling. With a look of concern, Newt pulled out two sets of thick, rubbery gloves and black, sturdy goggles. No words were exchanged as each of you donned the new accessories. The fire-resistant material felt strange against the skin, but otherwise did not offer much inconvenience. Just as Newt turned to lead you up to the outcropping, a massive chain swung down. It rattled evilly, smacking down across several sharp protrusions, and barely missed the Magizoologist. 
Newt pressed himself flush with the mountain and tugged you with him. “Careful! She must have tangled herself up when landing.”
The chain rose up through the air once more and now it was obvious that with each attempt at flight, the flapping was accompanied by rattling and creaking. Before, you had watched the pretty, pale creature take off into the sky but now she was grounded. A plume of searing blue flame spread out and up into the sky. The smell of burnt hair caused your stomach to twist. 
Looking to the man currently under the employment of the ‘Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau’ you began, “Mr. Scamander–”
He said your name, “It’s Newt. Please. Newt is far shorter and works best in cases such as these.”
You started again, “Merlin’s beard! Alright, Newt. How do you propose we get up there?”
“It’s far too dangerous to go up now, she’ll knock us off or roast us.” He chuckled lightly. “But it’s too dangerous to leave her up there alone. Those chains have to come off.”
“How do you calm a Swedish Short-snout?” You leaned closer to him as another, smaller chain whips by. 
"You know," He looked at you. "I am not entirely sure."
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sanguinescamander · 2 years
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newt & his kisses
just a bit fluff, gn reader
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it wasn't rare for newt to become so absorbed in his work that the rest of the world simply ceased to exist for him; there was only one thing that stood as the exception to that: you. it also wasn't rare for newt to avoid actively seeking out companionship and company during his day to day rituals and routines - most of which centred around his beloved beasts - and once again, the only exception: you. what was, however, a rarity, was newt's utter infatuation with you, an infatuation that had previously only been documented between himself and the menagerie of creatures that frequented his briefcase. everyone in newt's life agreed that you entering it opened up an entirely new side to the man, a side that only you were permitted to explore, and even newt struggled to comprehend and express the depths to which you had infiltrated him and his character. newt had spent many an hour mulling over his besotted vision of you and the importance he placed on his relationship with you, having come to the humble yet vital conclusion that the only way he could wordlessly demonstrate the extent of his love for you was through kissing; to newt, words took up too much space between people and muddled feelings to the point of confusion; with a kiss, he didn't have to painstakingly piece together a confession of love or a decent way on commenting on your beauty. with a kiss, he could approach you with an offering of love at any given time in the day, whether it be a fleeting brush of his lips as he passed you on his way to feed his scutch of mooncalves or kissing your forehead as he placed your plate of dinner down in front of you or in the small hours when his mouth roved languidly over your body, exploring already marked territory. documented are just a few of newt's favourite ways and occasions to kiss you:
newt was precious with the time he spent away from his beasts and yet he always found the time to spend an extra ten minutes in bed with you in the morning. he was the type to wake up instantly at the same time every morning feeling refreshed, never having to set an alarm or force his way out of the sleep-warmed sheets, and you, still caught in sleep, cheeks warm and eyes heavy, offered the most endearing sight newt had ever known. he took it upon himself to coax you from sleep each morning, running his palms up and down the length of your spine, trailing the tips of his fingers along your cheek bones, up your temples and across the plane of your forehead, and, of course, pressing as many kisses to your skin as he could fit. he often hummed lowly to himself as he did so, the mousy curls of his hair, tousled with sleep, offering your skin tiny kisses of its own as he worked. when you were awake enough to respond to his ministrations with kisses of your own, he knew his job was done, offering you a softly spoken 'good morning' with a languid curve of his lips.
on occasion you'd join him in tending to his creatures, trailing him with buckets of food mix or doing inventory to ensure that none of the magical animals had fled the safety of newt's menagerie. this was one of newt's favourite times, when he could watch you converse with his prized beasts and answer all your budding questions regarding them. his two favourite things coming together: you and his work. it opened up a newfound softness within him, not just for you, but for the animals he had become so used to tending to as he watched the delicate attention you gave each of them in turn. sometimes he'd let you take one of the creatures back to the main house with him or out of the case for the night, often the qilin, which had grown to a considerable size. during these days, he'd graze fleeting kisses to your temples whilst passing you a package of bedding or food for the animals, his hand settling briefly on your waist in a ghost's touch. he'd seek you out at the habitat he knew he'd find you in, approaching on light feet to secure his arms around your waist and kiss the back of your head while mumbling about nifflers and marmites. you'd turn around to meet his embrace, your own lips finding the tip of newt's nose and he'd smile bashfully, pulling you closer to him.
newt wasn't really one for pda. he'd rarely stray beyond casual handholding or wrapping his arm around your waist whilst the two of you explored the streets of london shoulder to shoulder. but, like so many other things in his life, you had unknowingly managed to encourage more confidence in the man that exceeded a sureness of magical creatures and their environments. you could recall the first time he had properly kissed you in public with extensive clarity: the way he had turned to you whilst in line at a small local bookshop, his long arm snaking across your lower back to draw you in close, your chest bumping against his and the warmth of his shaky exhale over your face. he was nervous and yet he still closed the distance between the two of you, his lips quickly yet passionately covering yours whilst his free hand located your own to hold in his. he had pulled away with a little smile, bringing your hand to his mouth now and replacing where your lips had been with the skin covering your knuckles. you had gazed at him in awe, stomach reduced to a knot of nervous butterflies as if it were the first kiss you'd ever shared with him. your reaction to it had encouraged him to kiss you brazenly in public a handful more times since that particular incident in the claustrophobic little book store and he would always pull away with a knowing smile, his cheeks as red as your own.
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animentality · 9 months
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Lol I think the straight girls are mad because they know of Astarion were real he’d never fuck them, and they don’t like seeing the truth of that. The man is GAY leave him the fuck alone, girls
Anon, you know, a lot of straight girls have their hackles up in my inbox at the moment, calling me biphobic.
Which is super weird, as I am...pan/bi.
You know.
But I don't really care to explain to them that he's more than anything FICTIONAL.
And I'm legally allowed to express a preference for seeing him be with dudes or nonbinary folk.
Like yeah bitch, this post was about MY preferences. This is my blog, where I come to ramble about random shit.
You made my opinion your business and that's super weird.
Please tell me what the fuck does it affect?
Did I say that I sent hate mail to people who disagree with me? Did I say that I doxxed people who write Astarion x female tav fanfics?
Did I say that I treat other bisexuals IRL as not gay because they're in het passing relationships?
No. I didn't. Because I don't do that.
I have a normal life doing a normal job, while also hanging out with my mostly LGBT gamer friends, and my big crime was answering an ask mentioning something I've noticed and I don't care for.
The weirdo antipathy in my inbox says less about me as a person, and more about them.
Like girls.
You either agree and say haha true, or you say I don't agree, and block and/or move on with your lives.
That's all you have to do.
Then you can go be straight with Astarion in baldur's gate 3. What are you doing on Tumblr? My Tumblr specifically?
Block me and move on.
Fantasize about him being heterosexual all you want.
I didn't come at you, I replied to a funny ask I got.
Bizarre behavior. But I think the BG3 fandom is just so big that it's growing into the horrible beast that all big fandoms become.
And I'm just not engaging.
I'm deleting all the annoying dumb messages whining about how romancing astarion as a woman is some kind of brave daring act, like it's progress for the entire pride movement.
Because it doesn't amuse me, and I am here to be amused.
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supernovadragoncat · 1 year
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Tagging you back! 👊🧂 I wanna see your responses to 1, 3, 7, 19!
Ooohh thank you 🥹
1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?
J*nsa, hands down. It’s not so much the ship itself but the mental gymnastics shippers engage in to scrounge up a canon justification. I especially side-eye how they peddle it as a beauty and the beast ship yet refuse to acknowledge the canon connection between SanSan. It ain’t pretty boy Jon Snow that Sansa is fantasizing about and wishing for in the Vale or dreaming about coming to the marriage bed or believes she kissed.
3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?
Not for an opinion but I have if they’re rude about forcing their opinion on other people. It’s one thing to point out textual evidence that supports a point. It’s another to get snarky when people don’t co-sign a crack-pot theory that may or may not pan out.
7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?
Fanfiction.net. That website is impossible to navigate and riddled with ads. I just hit my 10 year fandomversary and back in 2013 I thought AO3 was the obscure, lesser used fanfic site and resisted getting an account for months 😂 little did I know…
19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?
Hate’s too strong of a word but I worry about the misconception that “ship and let ship” means people can’t have an opinion and/or shouldn’t express those opinions. It’s not a personal attack if someone doesn’t agree with you or if they don’t like what you like. I get it might feel that way but 99% of the time it’s not. Some SanSans don’t like the kind of thing I’m into and they sometimes talk about it on tumblr.com. If they’re not being mean, I don’t hold it against them. They’re just thinking out loud and I firmly believe it’s not meant to make anyone feel bad. Besides, it’s sort of thought provoking to read a different take, even if at the end I’m like, “Interesting! Don’t agree in the slightest but interesting.”
Everyone just be cool 🤘😎🤘
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forgottowrite · 4 years
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꧁𝑁𝑒𝑤𝑡 𝑆𝑐𝑎��𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟꧂
𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑁𝑒𝑤𝑡’𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒...
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 :)
𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑: 𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 @sai-kida134! 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦!♥️
𝐴𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝐺𝐼𝐹 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟 :)
𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡!☺️
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Newt waking up in the middle of the night and hearing something from the kitchen
Him making his way into the kitchen because he assumes that one of his creatures made it’s way up from the basement
But he actually just finds you, sitting on the kitchen counter eating a cookie from the baking tin next to you
“Are... are you alright, darling?” Newt’d say and slowly stepping closer to you
You just nodding while dipping your cookie into the glass of milk in your right hand
“Did you... you really bake yourself some cookies in the middle of the night?” Newt would ask amused while ruffling his auburn curls
You nodding again, taking a cookie into your hand and reaching it out to him
Newt taking the cookie and positioning himself between your legs
“Someone’s got a sweet tooth as it seems.” Newt taking a bite from his cookie and being quite surprised “God, Y/N, they’re delicious!”
You getting tired again after a while so Newt carries you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth again and him laying you down in bed softly after you both are done
Whenever Newt travels without you, he brings you a candy of the country he was visiting
Also, every time the pair of you is visiting New York to see Queenie, Tina and Jacob, Newt would ask Jacob to bring you some of his pastries
Jacob laughing at first but complying to Newt’s wishes
When you’re coming back from work and Newt was groceries shopping, he always gets you some candy for dessert after dinner
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To All the Wizards I’ve Loved Before
A little “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU” nobody asked for...enjoy! (Should I continue with a part 2???)
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You hated crushes. You were convinced they were evil, made to make you feel powerless...incredibly smitten for someone who you barely even knew. You wanted nothing to do with them, which wasn’t a problem since you kept to yourself most of the time, not willing to let anyone in for that exact evil. Besides, you didn’t need anyone else. You had your sisters with you. They were all you needed, nobody else. Because letting people in means getting yourself hurt. Always.
Besides, it’s easy not letting people in. Easier than you’d think. You stayed alone in your room a majority of the time. Occasionally, you’d step foot in the library, even the courtyard when you were feeling a little adventurous. So what if people thought you were weird? So what if they thought you were a freak? It didn’t matter. You shouldn’t care how people feel anyway...you don’t! You were happy by yourself.
Of course, until one idiot snuck his way into your life, totally without permission by the way. Enter Davey Carrington. Talented, wonderful, kind, and perfect in every way. He wasn’t the only one who saw you sitting by yourself at the back of the classroom, but he was the only one who made the effort to sit next to you. Sure it took a minute to warm up to him, but you became quick best friends, spending every minute of every day with each other. He made you feel wanted, which just made you want him more.
But like all crushes, for you, they never end well.   
Your oldest sister was always top of her class, prefect of your house. She was extroverted, beautiful, talented...so of course she attracted some phenomenal people. With Davey and her, it was love at first sight. All of a sudden, they were spending every night together, all their time. And you were alone again, with all this love and nowhere to put it.
That night, you grabbed a quill and paper, and began writing a letter. A letter to Davey, where you wrote everything you wish you’d said and every secret you wish you’d told. You confessed everything, sealed it tight, and locked it in a box, never to be seen or read by anyone.
After Davey, writing letters like these became a habit of yours. Every time you developed a crush, you’d write to them, and just lock it in a box with the others.
There were five letters in total: Newt Scamander, the mysterious beast boy, Noah from potions class, James who lived in the neighborhood, Tom from the first day, and Davey, your sister’s boyfriend. Nobody else knows about them.
Thus, things continued in its natural order. Your sister continued to date Davey, and you continued to stick to yourself.
Until one day, everything changed.
You were making your way across the courtyard when you heard him.
“Y/N? Y/N L/N?” You almost didn’t recognize the voice from behind you, but then your heart swelled with a sense of realization. You stopped in your tracks, boots shuffling to a stop. You pivoted to face him.
“Yes?” you answered. Newt was looking at you. Or... at least he was trying to look at you. Instead, his gaze was slightly downcast. You furrowed your brows.
“Did you need something? I’m kind of on my way to class”
“Yes, this will be very quick. You see I’m flattered about what you…” he held up something that looked an awful lot like your letters in his hand, but there was no way it could actually be.
There was no way...no way…
Oh my god. 
“...about what you wrote about me in this letter. Truly, but I just-”
“Oh my god!” You interrupted, practically running over to Newt and snatching the letter out of his hands.
“Where did you get this?” Your voice was laced in agony and desperation.
Newt looked taken aback, mouth agape as if trying to find the words to say.
“It...it was addressed to me, did you not send this?”
“No!” you wailed, bringing your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. You couldn’t even imagine how red it must be now.
“Oh my god I can’t believe they got out…ok, listen.” You attempted to compose yourself, even though you wanted nothing more than to spontaneously combust on the spot.
“This-” you waved the letter in the air, gripping it even tighter.
“-was written a long long time ago. I don’t feel that way about you Newt, not anymore...I have absolutely no idea how it even got to you in the first place.” your voice dripped with shame, turning your head away so you didn’t have to look that the boy’s wide eyes.
Which, of course, was another mistake.
Of course, Davey Carrington himself was walking toward you, getting closer with every panicked thought that crossed your mind.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me”
Which meant you had to do something. Quick.
Without even thinking, (and you were definitely not thinking), you hurl yourself at Newt.
You close the distance between you two, dramatically sending you to the floor, your lips locked in a forced kiss. Newt was, to be expected, completely stunned. He lay completely frozen on the floor while you continued to kiss him.
Then, what felt like an eternity later, you pulled your face off the poor boy, and looked back to see the spot where Davey was standing completely empty. You sighed in relief and rolled off of Newt with a thud, breathing for the first time since you saw the letter.
“I…” You heard Newt start. Then, the weight in your chest was back.
“Oh my god” you must’ve said for the third time, shutting your eyes. “I can’t believe I just did that...I am so sorry” You quickly stood up, gathering your things that had fallen on the ground after attacking the Hufflepuff boy, and bolted.
“Y/N wait!” He shouted behind you, but it was too late. You were already inside, around the corner, and as far down the hallway as your feet could carry you.
When you felt like you were far enough from the scene, you turned a corner and collapsed onto the ground, keeping yourself from launching into a full blown panic attack.
What happened? Who found your letters? Why did you just assault Newt Scamander?
And what is going on?!
———————————-
Thanks for reading! Should I continue with this AU???
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Do Us Part
Warnings: nonconsent and rape; oral, fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments and mental/emotional abuse, age gap (Peter is 24/25 and reader is 35/36)
This is dark!Peter Parker x 30s/’older’ reader and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You find it hard to accept that not all good things last as you face the changes in your marriage, yourself, and your marriage.
Note: I wanted to write Peter again but also I’ve seen this nonsense about how 30+ writers are too old for fanfic which is dumb af. And I wanted to turn the age gap trope a little so that it wasn’t the reader being the younger one in the relationship. I label it older reader but I don’t think being in your 30s is old tbh (my bf is 36 so pfft). It was all just a conglomeration of circumstances that inspired a deceivingly sweet dark Peter and I hope you like it. Also it’s 7.4k so a bit of a longer read.
Thank you. Love you guys!
Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
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You walked slowly along the transparent shelves set into the pristine white walls of the cosmetics section. The department store was a haze of distant voices and the chirp of scanners as customers milled the aisles and waited their turn to check out. You whiled away your time looking at things you’d never buy as you waited for your husband to return from the men’s department.
You thought of the sparse make-up bag under your sink and the liners and shades you hadn’t used in years. They were likely expired and better tossed in the bin. You hovered along the crystal bottle of designer scents and stopped to test a particular blush-tinted fragrance.
You set the bottle back and peered over at the dark cubbies that housed the men’s scent. Even from there, you could catch a whiff of the heady scents as a younger man with reddish brown hair examined an angular vial of Dior Men. You suddenly felt out of place; a mid-thirties woman in her out-of-season clothes fantasizing about overpriced perfume.
Your husband's voice further cemented your reality as you fingered the golden cap of the Coach eau du parfum. Wesley rolled his eyes and flipped up the little plastic panel that hid the bold prices and huffed.
“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna pay for that shit,” he sneered, “what have you been doing? I was waiting for you.”
He waved a plastic bag as his lip curled and you pressed your mouth shut tightly and swallowed. The day began with another argument as he discovered the seared hole in his shirt and instead of blaming the crappy old dryer, he blamed you. Most of your clothes had been chewed up by the thing but you never complained.
“No, I was just… looking,” you teetered in your flats and glanced around. The young man at the corner display quickly turned to hide his nosy observation, “did you find some new shirts?”
“No thanks to you,” he sniffed.
“Oh,” you played with the hem of your tee and tucked your hands into your pockets nervously. You’d left him to look alone as you only seemed to irritate him and rarely took your advice on matters of clothing, “well, I thought I’d give you some space--”
“Stop acting so pathetic. Start taking responsibility for yourself. For god’s sake, you're almost thirty-six and you don’t know how to hang a shirt to dry?” He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder, “let’s go.”
You flinched but followed behind him as he strode away and you stumbled out behind him through the automatic doors. He tossed the bag into the back seat and slammed the door before flopping angrily into the driver’s side. You mirrored him daintily and squeezed your legs together as you tried to make yourself as small as you could.
“I told you about the dryer,” you said.
“And?” he started the engine and slapped his hand around the wheel, “call a fucking electrician or some shit.”
“Alright,” you shrugged as he stopped at the exit of the parking lot and checked his phone quickly.
“Benny wants to do a round of golf,” he peeled out and you grasped the door as your heart raced. You hated how reckless he was when he was angry. You hated how easily he got angry these days.
“Okay,” you picked at the fraying stitching of your purse.
“Don’t start moping,” he sneered, “I fucking work all week and I can’t go out and have a few rounds?”
“I never-- I didn’t say anything,” you murmured.
“You don’t need to,” he turned the wheel sharply as he cut off another car, “you sit at home all day and do what?”
“I work too,” you said.
“Uh huh, sure, if that’s what you call it.”
You ran your fingertip over the bleach stain on the knee of your jeans and said nothing. When he was in a mood, he would latch on anything until he outright exploded. You tried to think of when he changed, when he had stopped being the chill guy you met back in college. It felt like a slow trickle, small things you ignored until it was a mountain you could not see past.
You felt like crying but you’d stopped that a while ago. You existed in a purgatory of acceptance and helplessness. You wanted him to love you again, wanted to believe you could fix things. So you would keep trying. You would do better.
💍 
You picked out a large flank of steak and winced at the price. You had a special dinner in mind. It was Friday and the work week was done. You wanted a weekend without a fight and Wesley was always one for a nice big cut of beef. You hadn’t made him one in a while, your dinners were the usual repetitive drumsticks and rice or your homemade mac and cheese.
You continued onto the fish section and grabbed some salmon for yourself. You’d gained some weight and decided to cut out dairy and red meat if you could help it. The pile of produce in your cart reminded you of the extra jiggle around your stomach and thighs. You also grabbed one of those women’s magazines that advertised a regimen to help slim your figure. You only hoped you could stick to it this time.
With your weekly haul in tow, you wheeled up to the check-out and waited behind a young man who looked oddly familiar to you. Maybe that was the passing years. You always felt a vague glimmer of deja vu, more often a sense of forlorn nostalgia of what you would never have again.
As you stared thoughtlessly, he looked over and smiled. He bent in front of your cart and picked up a thin packet of seasoning. 
“You dropped this,” he said as he held it out and you thanked him before quickly snatching it and looking away. 
He paid for his large bags of chips and over salted pre-packaged meals and packed up at the end as you loaded up your own goods, the cashier sending them down the parallel belt. You swiped your card and tried to calculate the chunk of money from your last check. You thanked the clerk and sidled past the young man as he finished up.
You rounded the counter as he lifted his three bags. You looked up without thinking, the sleeve of his shirt tight around his bicep. You caught yourself staring and looked back down as you packed in the cans. 
It reminded you of Wesley; he’d also started being more mindful, he hit the gym after work and you noticed the little pudge that started just after he turned thirty was slimming out. It was that exact reason that made you notice the extra pounds on your own frame, not that you didn’t realise before.
The man left and you unfolded the little buggy you slid under the cart. You loaded your bags into it and dragged the cart behind you as you made an awkward exit with both wheeled trolleys. The compact fabric buggy was easy enough to fit on the bus if you stood.
You pushed the cart into the row of empty ones and continued across the parking lot. You rolled up to the bus shelter and checked the bus times on your phone. You dug out your strip of tickets and ripped one away. You leaned on the thin handle of your trolley and looked over your shoulder as you heard someone approach.
The man who checked out ahead of you put his bags on the metal bench inside the shelter as he sipped on a bright drink from the place just beside the grocery shop. He sent you a smile over his straw and you spun back to crane your head and search for the bus.
When the metal beast barreled up and cranked to a stop at the curb, the man waited behind you and as your wheels caught on the edge of the ramp, he reached around you and helped push it over the lip. You thanked him shyly and continued up. Usually you tried to keep the shop light on weekdays but you hadn’t really been paying attention.
You pushed your cart against the small barrier just behind the accessible seating and stood beside it, conscious not to take up too much space. The man stood just behind you two bags on one shoulder and the other dangling from the opposite elbow as he sucked on his straw. You grabbed the upright bar as the bus took off and watched the electronic banner for your stop.
A sharp stop had you veering back and you were caught by the young man as he chucked, “oop, you okay?”
“Yes, thank you,” you muttered and gave a sheepish smile over your shoulder.
“There’s a seat,” he gestured just behind you, “I’ll watch your stuff.”
“Um, no it’s… fine,” you gripped the bar tighter as the bus shuttled forward, “my stop is soon.”
You looked ahead of you and three stops passed before yours. You exited through the front with your buggy and headed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled away. You were exhausted just from your little sojourn and it wasn’t even two o’clock. God, you felt old.
💍
You had a salad chopped and tossed and the steak and fish laid out and seasoned. As you listened to your old Spotify list, the music dipped and the notification blipped over the screen. You washed your hands and grabbed the phone. You frowned as you read the lone message from Wesley, the only one you got from him all day.
‘Just finished at the gym, getting drinks with Andrew,’ you read and re-read the message as your heart fell.
You typed out a whole angry response and backspaced it all. You replaced it with ‘ok, have fun’ and blacked the screen. You shoved the meat back in the fridge and stretched saran wrap over the bowl of salad. You placed it on a lower shelf and closed the door, quickly swiping a can of the craft beer Wesley kept around.
You shut the light off in the kitchen and ignored the pang in your stomach as you cracked the can. You climbed the stairs as you sipped the hoppy foam. You put it on the night table and changed into the old butterfly pajamas you wore most nights and turned on the tv mounted against the wall. 
You turned on Netflix but hardly paid attention to the carelessly chosen movie. You sat against the headboard and down the bitter beer until the can was hollow and your eyelids were heavy. You slumped down so that your shoulders were at your ears and dozed off in the stiff position as the room moved with the colours of the television. 
The anger and alcohol shaded your shallow sleep and you hardly heard Wesley when he came in, only waking when your bladder was ready to burst and his snores rumbled in your head. You went to the bathroom and returned, wide awake, and stared at the shape of him in the dark.
You remembered when he used to kiss you when he came home, even when you were asleep, he’d wake you with the little pecks. You remembered when he was happy to come home. You remembered when you were happy. 
You swallowed the acrid aftertaste of beer and left him to snore. You went downstairs and curled up on the couch but didn’t sleep. You just stared at the shadows of the furniture until the sun rose.
💍
The next day, Wesley didn’t wake until after noon and when he did, he didn’t say a word to you. He took his coffee and sat at the patio table in the back as you stewed and cleaned the kitchen. You had nothing to say to him even if you felt stupid for being mad.
“Gotta head down to the dealership,” he said as he interrupted your scouring of the stove.
“The dealership?” you said after a moment, deciding whether or not to break your vow of silence.
“I told you on Wednesday, I’m picking up the car--”
“We talked about this. We should wait a little longer--”
“It’s my money and I got a great price,” he sighed, “just because you have to pinch your pennies--”
“We’re married,” you squeezed the foam sponge, “it’s our money. Don’t act like I don’t pay for anything around here.”
“Oh thanks, honey, so wonderful you paid for a five dollar steak,” he scoffed, “I’ll be impressed when you can make a mortgage payment on your own.”
“How dare you!” you turned your back to him and kept scrubbing, “fine, but not a penny of my money is going to that thing.”
“That’s fine, I’m selling the old one, that should cover most of it--”
“What?” you slammed your hand between the burner, “you said we would hold onto it so I had something to--”
“Then you can buy it from me,” he said venomously.
“I’m your wife,” you spun to scowl at him again, “I-- what is wrong with you?”
He tilted his head and squinted as he poked his tongue out along his lip. “Nothing wrong with me,” he shrugged, “what’s wrong with you?”
“Don’t--” you warned as you pointed a finger at him through the bright yellow gloves, “don’t do that… I’ve been trying and you just keep pushing me away.”
“Me pushing you away?” he rolled his eyes, “you were passed out last night when I got home. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep before nine I could actually fuck you… or at least get it up if you worked on losing some of that cellulite on your ass.”
Your lip quivered and you sucked in a breath. You shook your head and turned around again. You ignored him as your hand shook and you continued your work, scratching at the dried-on food around the burner. His empty mug clinked onto the counter and you listened to his exit.
Fuck him and his new car. You were done trying with him.
💍
Wesley’s new car was shrouded in the shade of the garage as the old black Hyundai sat out on the driveway with a red and white “For Sale” sign on the windshield. Right after he got back from his extravagant purchase, he made the listing online and several perusers stopped by Saturday night but Sunday morning saw the car still there.
You sat by the border of stones around the garden as he drank beer in the garage and approached any interested buyers who appeared; although so far he’d only had two before noon.
You tucked your clippers into your apron pocket and dusted off your gloves as you stood. You were a little dizzy from sitting out in the sun and a glass of water was the perfect excuse to drown out the annoying sound of your husband’s voice.
You ignored Wesley as you trod through the garage and kicked your sneakers off on the mat right before the three steps up to the house. You went to the kitchen and put your gloves on the counter as you filled a glass from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. You’d given up everything but water and the slices of lemon were the only flavour you had.
You took the glass and your gloves and headed back. Wesley waited just at the bottom of the stairs as he glared up at you with arms crossed. You sighed and descended but he didn’t let you pass.
“What is your problem?”
“Are you really asking me that?” you hissed.
“You giving me the silent treatment isn’t gonna fix this,” he snarled.
“You know what you said so… I shouldn’t have to tell you to apologize,” you retorted and he stayed put.
“Is this about the car?”
“The car is just another thing,” you cross an arm around your stomach, “you think I couldn’t use it to get around, to get the groceries maybe? Or, I don’t know, maybe since you have such a problem with my home office, I could go out and get a ‘big girl’ job as you put it so many times--”
“Your mother has a car she never drives. You can just take her with you, two birds, one stone. I need to sell this to pay for the new one--”
“The one I begged you not to buy,” you huffed, “you could’ve waited a few more years until we were a little more comfortable--”
“Oh, wait? Until we have a kid and all my money goes to it,” he snapped, “yeah, I’m sure we’d have the money then--”
“You’d have to fuck to do that,” you stepped down the last step and pushed past him.
As you came into the sunlight and shielded your eyes, a figure stood by the garden, knelt just by your tulips as he felt the soft petals. You narrowed your eyes. You recognized him for sure. It was the stranger from the bus.
“Um, hi?” you croaked as you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“Hey, it’s… you again,” he chuckled softly as he stood, “I saw an ad for a car and… well, I’m getting tired of the bus.”
“Oh, uh, my husband,” you pointed over your shoulder, “you’ll have to talk to him.”
“Okay,” he smiled, “Peter,” he held out his hand and you stared at it. You introduced yourself and shook his firm grip.
“Like I said, it’s my husband selling the car,” you brushed by him and got to your knees by the flowerbed. “Unless you’re looking to buy some wilting pansies.”
“Hmm, I like the tulips better,” he said as he slowly inched away, “thanks.”
You sat back on your heels and he strode over to the open garage. You heard Wesley greet him and didn’t bother paying attention to the same pitch you’d heard all morning. You pulled on your gloves and wiggled your nose as it tingled. You really just wanted to keel over and bawl.
“Sold,” Wesley announced and you heard a clap, “all yours!”
“I’ll just transfer the deposit,” Peter said and a minute passed before he emerged again, the keys hanging from his finger, “Thanks, Wes.”
You hid your distaste. It used to be that Wesley hated being called ‘Wes’ but lately, he introduced himself to everyone as just ‘Wes’. He really had changed. You must have too.
“Hey,” you looked up and blinked as the sun made your eyes water as it shone around Peter.
“You bought it?” you asked as you yanked free a weed.
“Yep, but uh,” he glanced over his shoulder as the old car stereo Wesley used blared out a classic rock tune, “I… wasn’t eavesdropping but I heard some of it and… if you ever need a ride to the grocery store, I usually try for Wednesdays,” he tucked his hand in his pocket, “I don’t live too far and since we go to the same one--”
“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” you looked back to the soil, embarrassed.
“Well, if you change your mind,” he kept the keys dangling from one finger and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out a card with some effort, “I’m supposed to have these handy but I never really use them.”
He offered the business card and you read his name above the title, ‘senior photographer’. You gave a half-hearted smile and put it in your apron pocket.
“Thanks,” you said, “I can manage.”
“You don’t have to though,” he said kindly, “but I’ll, uh, leave you to your gardening. Sorry if I bugged you.”
“You didn’t,” you assured without looking up, flattered that anyone cared enough to even offer help.
“Hey, Pete,” Wesley stopped Peter as he neared the car, “you can have one before you go.”
“Oh, no, I’m gonna be driving,” Peter argued.
“Pfft, it’s a celebration and one won’t put you over the limit,” Wesley insisted and handed him a dark bottle of craft brew, “come on.”
“I really should go--”
“It’s a Sunday, where do you need to be?” Wesley patted his shoulder and looked over at you, “hey, honey, you wanna see if we have any snacks for our guest?”
“I’m not hungry,” Peter said curtly, “really. Just the beer is fine.”
They disappeared back into the garage and you cringed. You hated that. Wesley only every acted like a husband when others were around.
💍
You waited a whole week before returning to the grocery store. You were short on everything and it was a reason to get out of the house. Your husband had made both your home and your workplace hostile.
It irked you that Wesley resented you working from home when a couple years ago he was so happy about it. Then, he’d been so enthusiastic about starting a family but when it didn’t happen right away, he grew disillusioned and bitter. Now, he seemed to have no interest in being a husband let alone a father.
As you packed up your spinach and bottles of Perrier, your cart rolled just a little as someone nudged it from the other end. You raised your head and hid your surprise and discomfort as Peter smiled back at you.
“I thought you said Wednesdays,” you murmured as you dropped a bag in your cart.
“I forgot eggs,” he held up the carton, “I guess I have good timing.”
“You do?” you asked as you pulled your cart forward and maneuvered around to push it out of the way of fellow shoppers. You bent to grab your trolley from beneath and he caught it as you unfolded it.
“I’ll drive you,” he said.
“I told you--”
“I’m here so why not? Save the ticket for next time,” he urged.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why does it matter? Why do I matter to you?” you asked.
“I don’t know, I… like helping people,” he shrugged, “what if I told you you were helping me? I have this horrible need to be the hero.”
“That will go away,” you muttered under your breath and he lifted a brow, “sorry, I… thank you.”
“Alright, let’s go then,” he collapsed the trolley and carried it easily under his arm as he cradled his eggs in the other, “I got the A/C fixed on the car too.”
“Mmm,” you hummed and walked with him out of the store. 
You crossed the parking lot and helped you load up the bags in the trunk. That car should have been yours; you’d made enough payments on it yourself but Wesley was such a stubborn ass.
You sat in the front seat as he slid into the other and started the car. He drove cautiously through the lot and you read the store signs as he came to the exit.
“How long have you and… the old man been together?”
“Um,” you glanced over at him and chewed your lip, “since college so… almost fifteen years now.”
“Fifteen?” he turned out onto the street, “really? I thought he was older than you.”
“Christ,” you scoffed, “don’t flatter me.”
“Really, I woulda said twenty-eight at most,” he said coolly, “wow, I feel so young now.”
“And I feel so old,” you grumbled as you crossed your legs, hoping he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the pink capris.
“Whatever, you’re not even forty,” he said, “and time has treated you well so I can only think in a few years… oh jeez, sorry, that came off weirder than I intended. Not that I meant for it to be weird at all--”
You giggled at his rambling as he rolled to a stop at the sign and peeked over at you in the rearview. You caught his eye and quickly looked away, “what?”
“Just… you have a nice smile,” he said as he turned down a side street, “and a nice laugh.”
“Thank you,” your voice was brittle at the genuine compliment, “you’re funny.”
“Am I? I wasn’t trying to be,” he took the same short cut you took when you walked home from the convenience store which was closer than the plaza.
“And nice,” you said as he came onto your street, “you really didn’t have to drive me. You could’ve dropped me at the corner--”
“No way, I was raised better than that, and if you think I’m letting you carry that all in by yourself--”
“Raised to help little old ladies?” you mused.
“Raised to treat ladies properly,” he corrected, “especially pretty ones.”
“I’m married,” your heart pattered as you dared to flirt back, almost in disbelief that he was humouring you, “and your lies don’t work on me, young man.”
“Not that young,” he insisted as he pulled into the driveway.
You got out and went around to the trunk. He handed you the bag with the bread and other light products, and loaded up with the other bags.
“You get the doors, let me do the heavy work,” he said and nodded you towards the house.
You went ahead of him and unlocked the door. You let him inside and pointed him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and stretched his arms and hands as you set yours on the other side. The muscles of his arms moved under his skin and you could trace the lines of his torso through his grey tee.
“So,” he took out the bottle of Perrier, “this going in the fridge?”
“What-- you’ve done enough.”
“Fridge?” he ignored you and pulled out the other.
You gave a long blink and threw up your hands in surrender, “yes, please,” you came around and reached in to grab the whole grain buns, “bottom shelf.”
You finished unpacking your groceries and took the empty bags from Peter and shoved them under the counter. You stood and looked at him nervously as he watched you, his fingers tapping on the granite.
“Do you want a snack? Something to drink? Water?”
“I’ll have a water,” he said and moved to leaned his elbow on the countertop, his side snug to the edge.
“Sparkling or--”
“Regular’s fine,” he answered
“Ice? Lemon?” you pulled out a tall glass.
“Just ice is fine… then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.
Ice clinked into the glass and you covered it with the distilled water from the fridge. You slid it onto the counter and stepped back.
“Oh, I… actually, it’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said and took a sip, “my aunt, she likes to garden too but she got some bulbs she’s not gonna use, I thought maybe… maybe you would like some to fill in the holes?”
“What kind?” you asked.
“Some daffodils and some crocuses, I think,” he said, “I could bring them over next week after work?”
“That sounds like a lot of work,” you scrunched your lips, “you could probably just give them to a neighbour.”
“It’s not out of the way,” he said, “you want them?”
You stared at him and thought. He was nice. Too nice.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, I… I’m sure you have a girlfriend you could be spending time with--”
“I don’t. Not anymore,” he interrupted.
“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn’t--”
“Like I said, I always wanna be the good guy,” he finished his water and the last of the cubes settled at the bottom, “thanks.”
“No, thank you,” you said as he set his glass in the sink and backed away, “really, you made my day so much easier.”
“I hope your weekend is better,” he said, “but…”
He didn’t finished and you folded your hands together as he hesitated by the hallway.
“But what?” you prodded.
“Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing. I should go.”
“Okay,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “see ya.”
“Monday,” he confirmed as he turned to the doorframe, “I’ll bring the bulbs. Just after seven.”
“Right,” you slanted your lips and watched him go.
The door marked his departure and you turned to exhale and lean against the counter. You could still smell his rich cologne. Then you felt guilty. It was stupid to think he was doing anything more than being nice, that the flirting was anything but a joke, but still, you missed feeling that way and it should’ve been Wesley making you feel that.
💍
You squeezed the phone as you clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. Your eyes were wet and finally the tears were ready to start falling. The smell of steak filled the kitchen, another meal you wouldn’t eat. At the last minute, Wesley texted to tell you he was hitting the gym. Again. He was already late after a long meeting but promised he’d be home to eat.
So you waited for him to answer your furious phone call but got his voicemail instead. Your eyes narrowed at the bottle of wine and your chest knotted as the tone sounded.
“Wesley, this is it. I can’t do this anymore! I’m your wife. Do you even want to be with me? I can’t go on like this and now you won’t even answer my calls,” you snarled. You knew he had his phone on him as he no doubt had his Spotify work-out list on shuffle, “when you come home, you can sleep on the couch.”
You hung up and grabbed a stemmed glass from the cupboard. You filled it to the brim with Pinot Grigio but before you could taste it, the doorbell made you jump. You set down the glass and walked up the hallway. Just on the other side of the frosted glass was a silhouette. You opened the door and touched your forehead as you faced Peter.
“I totally forgot you were coming,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. But thank you, you really didn’t have to--”
“Are you okay?” he asked as the paper bag in his hand crinkled.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I… thank you for the flowers,” you looked at the brown paper bag and he handed it over, another bag on his wrist; white with ribbon handles, “what’s that? You headed out for a date?”
“Um, no,” he said, “actually, I was just…” he pushed his fingers through his hairs, the reddish brown locks slightly curled with sweat, “I wanted to talk to you.” He looked past you and his warm eyes returned to yours, “Wesley isn’t home yet?”
“No, he won’t be for a while,” you backed up, “so you might as well come in. I have a steak no one’s gonna eat.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Peter said glumly, “and steak sounds good.”
He closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You put the bulbs at the back of the counter and grabbed the bottle, “wine?”
“No thank you,” he said.
You plunked down the bottle and took a gulp of your wine before you turned to plate the steak and your chicken breast alongside the fried asparagus and roasted potatoes. You set the filet before him as he sat on the stool and climbed up across from him at the long island.
“Thank you,” he watched you slide a steak knife and fork towards him and his gaze lingered on your lips as you took another thirsty mouthful, “this is for you, actually.”
He pushed the white bag over to you and you smelled the subtle floral scent rising from it. You put your glass down and pushed open the top of the bag and peeked inside. You shook your head and rescinded your hand as if you were slapped. It was the same perfume from that day weeks ago.
“You… how?”
“You don’t remember?” he asked.
You thought back on the day you wanted to forget. He was the other shopper in the perfume section, the one who sent you that sympathetic look as Wesley reproached you. You winced and grabbed your utensils. You cut into the chicken and shoved it in your mouth. You swallowed loudly.
“Take it back,” you sniffed, “I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it.”
“You do. He doesn’t deserve you,” he carefully sliced into the medium rare steak.
“Is that what this is? Some perverted joke? A challenge?” you dropped your fork and knife, “you think you can seduce the sad housewife and then laugh at it? Sow your wild oats?”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” he calmly put down the silverware, “I… what I didn’t say when I showed up is I just came from the gym.”
You frowned in confusion and wrinkled your nose. You took another drink of wine as you tried to understand.
“I saw Wesley,” he said as he leaned on his elbow and pulled out his phone with his other hand, “I didn’t wanna say anything but… you’re here beating yourself up over him and-- just look.”
He slid his phone across the counter and you looked at the screen. Your entire body felt heavy and your veins filled with ice. You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wipe the sight from your eyes; the image of your husband groping a woman in yoga pants, an act she wasn’t deterring.
“I knew it,” you sobbed as the tears burst forth and leaked down your palms, “I knew it. And why wouldn’t he? I’m old, ugly--” you sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe them on your pants. Peter held out a paper towel and you took it as you avoided his eyes, “thank you but I think you should go. I’m humiliated enough.”
“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said as he climbed down from the stool and rounded the island, “he’s an asshole. He’s blind.”
“Please, Peter, just leave me alone,” you slid off the stool and he caught your shoulders. You looked up at him as you dabbed away the streaks of sadness with the paper towel, “Peter--”
“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly, “he’s out there having his fun, so why don’t you have some of your own?”
“Peter, that’s-- that’s wrong. I’m too old for you. And… I’m fat and--”
“You’re perfect,” he reached up to frame your chin with his hand, “you’re gorgeous,” his other hand trailed down your arm and to your hip, “that’s the first thing I noticed about you…” he pulled you closer and tapped your ass lightly.
“No, I can’t-- I just want to be alone,” you pushed on his arms and felt the thick biceps as he flexed and kept you close.
“Well, baby, what I want,” he turned you so that you were pinned between him and the island, “is for you to put on that perfume… I want you wearing nothing but that.”
“Peter,” you pushed on his chest that time and the hard muscle wall didn’t budge, “Peter, go--”
“Baby,” he bent and scooped you up suddenly. 
His hands spread over your ass as he lifted you and crushed his lips against yours. You murmured in surprise and he placed you on the granite countertop. He parted from your lips as you sat up and he shoved your legs apart, inserting himself between your knees. He played with the bottom of the dress you’d worn in hopes of rekindling your dying marriage.
“We can go slow,” he tickled along your thighs and pulled back suddenly, “just a little at a time.” 
He leaned in as he reached around you and grabbed the small white bag. He pulled out the perfume and snaked his hand around your neck. He pulled you to bend over him and he kissed your neck just before he sprayed a puff of perfume across your throat. He stood back and took a deep breath. He put the bottle on the counter and his hands went back to your skirt.
“Peter,” you caught his hands as they crept under the fabric, “please.”
You tried to slide forward and he stopped you as he grasped your hips and held you in place. He bit his lip as his eyes glimmered up at you. He drew a hand away and took the glass of wine and held it before your mouth.
“Drink, relax,” he cooed, “forget about him.”
You stared at him and he brought your hand up with his and wrapped it around the full body of the glass. He nudged it to your lips and watched you until you drank from the crystal rim. He smirked and lifted your skirt as he bent to bury his head beneath the folds.
You gulped and choked on the wine as your skirt fluttered down over his shoulders. You felt his finger on the lace trim of your panties and winced. He squeezed your thighs with his other hand and nuzzled the crotch of your underwear. You tried to close your legs but he kept them apart easily.
He curled his fingers under the elastic of your panties and tugged. He pulled until you lifted your ass just enough for him to get them free and he guided them down your legs before quickly parting them again.
You set down the glass and almost overturned it, the last mouthful splashing up the side. You pressed your hands to the granite and peered down at the shape of his head beneath your skirt. You gasped as his cool tongue grazed your warm folds and delved deeper.
“Peter…” you wisped and closed your eyes as you tried to hide from your own shame.
He purred as his tongue flicked over your clit and you twitched. He caressed the crease of your thigh with his fingers as he lapped at your, his other hand pressed against your stomach until you fell back across the counter. You arched your back instinctively and his hand cupped your tit through your dress.
He blindly pulled until your chest slipped out and pushed the cup of your bra as he teased your clit with his tongue. He felt along your cunt with his fingers and shoved his index inside of you. You moaned as he pushed another inside and curled them as he suckled on your bud.
Your core burned to life. Your entire being was set alight after months without affection. You quivered in delight and fear. Your nerves stormed both out of guilt and hunger. It felt so good but you knew it was wrong. The scent of the perfume filled your nose as your skin grew hot.
He moved his hand in time with his mouth as he doted on you. His touch intensified as your legs bent around the side of the island and your fingernails dragged along the granite, your voice rising without thought. He pinched your nipple and you cried out as you came in a wave of sheer pleasure and grabbed his wrist as you tried to steady yourself.
He eased off slowly as you trembled in the afterglow, his lingering touch tickled along your legs as he pushed your dress up. He pulled you to sit up and lifted the fabric over your head and ripped your sleeves free from your arms. He tossed as side the garment and swiftly covered your mouth with his so you tasted your own arousal on his tongue.
He unhooked your bra blindly and slid it off your arms. You were intensely aware of your nakedness and as you brought your arms up to cover yourself, he forced them down and ran his hands over your bare torso. 
“Beautiful,” he said as he laid a trail of gentle pecks along your throat and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers and sent a shiver through you.
He kneaded your sides and hips, his fingers danced along your thighs and he followed the path with his mouth, kissing and nipping your flesh. He lifted his head again as he took your hands and twined his fingers through yours. He tugged you gently until you slid off the counter and landed on your feet shakily.
“Baby, you’re so amazing,” he placed your hands on his chest and pushed them down his muscled torso and brought them back up beneath his tee shirt, “go on.”
He let you go and you continued to roll up his tee. He dipped his head and raised his arms to help you and you clung to the tee as it fell limp in your grasp. Dazed, he snatched the shirt from your hands and flung it. He once more pressed your hands to his chest and guided you in feeling the lines of his toned flesh.
He pushed your hands against the top of his jeans and leaned into you. He kissed your temple and whispered along your hairline, “turn around, baby.” He squeezed your ass and purred, “mmmm, please, I wanna see that ass.”
You blinked, dazed, and spun slowly. You caught yourself on the edge of the counter as your legs trembled and you heard the subtle zip. He kicked his foot between yours and pushed your legs apart as he led you back so that you were slightly bent against the island. He ran his nails down your back and gripped your hip with one hand as his other drew away from your skin.
You flinched as you felt his smooth tip against your ass and he rubbed it between your cheeks. You inhaled and held in your breath as his hold on your tightened and he angled his dick under your ass and grazed your cunt. He poked your entrance and pressed his chest to your back as his hand covered yours on the granite.
He slid into you and your voice fizzled in the air as he forced the air from your lungs. You pushed your head back and it met his shoulder as his other hand crawled down your front. He spread your folds with his fingers and swirled another around your clit as he tilted his hips and thrust into you slowly.
“Ah, Peter,” you slapped the counter and he shushed you as his hand left yours cold and his fingers stretched over your throat.
His motion picked up as the noise of him crashing into you echoed around the kitchen. Your eyes rolled back as he rammed into you even harder. You were on tiptoes as he was driven by the weak moans that leaked from your lips and your wet pleasure squelched around him. He pressed two fingers to your bud and rubbed until you squeaked and your thighs quaked around him.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled, “I bet you never cum like that for him.”
You whined and he sped up again. He pinned you against the counter so that the lip pressed into your stomach. He took his hand from your cunt and pushed your head down as he kept his other hand around your neck. He didn’t waver once as he fucked you.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he commanded, “I want you to cum again for me. I know you want to too.”
His thick breath warmed the air and grazed your back as he held you down and his hold on your neck tightened until silver stars rose in your vision. Your feet dangled against the tile and you reached down to play with your clit as it buzzed. It was only seconds before you were murmuring in ecstasy once more.
“Fuck, baby, can you feel that? The way your clinging to me,” he puffed as he slammed into you over and over, “he can hardly fill you, can he? Hmmm? Little man.”
You wheezed as he choked you and his other hand kept your head pinned. You heard a distant creak but could barely do more than keep your fingers moving as your heartbeat deafened you. You came again and croaked as your cunt squeezed him hungrily.
“What the fuck?” the voice broke your lusty trance and suddenly you were pulled away from the counter.
Your head lulled as Peter held it up and turned you around, his pelvis slapping against your ass as you faced your husband. Your mouth hung open as your blurred vision barely registered the scene and the deep grunts only got louder behind you.
“Look who’s here,” Peter rasped as he snaked his arm around you.
“The fuck are you doing?” Wesley sneered as your eyes closed and your ass rang with each thrust.
“What you can’t,” Peter snickered, “doesn’t she look so happy?” He grasped your chin and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he held your head up, “well, you into watching or you gonna let us finish, old man?”
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miioouu · 3 years
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Brother’s best friend
This is for @ahegaobaku only, if you’re not them keep scrolling iedidjim jk you can stay!
Word count: 2k (I’m pretty sure that’s my longest fic endjebuduj)
Warning: Smut…
         Growing up, you’ve read a million stories, fanfics about the girl who’s in love with her brother’s  bad boy best friend, but you actually hated them. They were all fictive, there’s no way in hell that something like that might happen, right? Or maybe you thought that because your brother’s best friend is Asahi Azumane, the sweet boy that your mom loves, the gentleman that always gives you a smile, the kind boy who always thought about you while bringing snacks to movie nights. There’s no way for Asahi to hurt a fly, let alone be a pervert who’d fantasize about his friend’s sister, there’s no way that he’s just waiting for right moment to bend you over…right?
         But don’t be so sure about that, you might actually fall for his traps. Smarter than what people give him credit for, he has a plan, and it’s going perfectly. Slowly, not only you’ll trust him, but the whole family, to the point where, when he knew no one other than you were home, he gave your parents a fake excuse of his car breaking down right near your house, asking them sweetly if he could stay the night. And who could refuse the adorable tall man? Making himself at home, he kept his actions on the downlow. Just his eyes lingering a bit longer on the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the blanket on the couch that he’ll be sleeping on. Just his eyes darkening the slightest when you’d sit next to him, giving the perfect view past your shirt. His hands accidentally brushing the small of your back when he’s reaching behind you for a glass of water. Nothing that got you suspicious. Nothing that got you worried. He was so sweet after all. Oh and he felt so bad, so awful for taking advantage of your innocent nature, seeing you all giddy when he asked you if you want to come watch a movie with him. He tried so hard to suppress the evil grin on his face as you sat right next to him, leg bouncing, teeth digging into your lower lip as you watched with your big round eyes choosing a movie. And just like a small silly girl, you fell for his ruses; the moment you nodded your head, agreeing to spend the night next to him watching a film with him, he knew he had you, he knew he won. Just like little red ridding hood you fell into the big bad wolf traps, but will you ever realize that on time? Or will it be too late?
         You were taking too long to choose, so he did it instead. Taking the remote from your hands, making sure he brushed his fingers against yours just for a little bit longer than normal, and of course, of course he’d chose a horror movie. One so scary it will have you clinging to him. Your arms wrapped around his, pressing it close to your chest, you just wanted to feel safe, Asahi always put your mind at ease. You begged him to stop it, to change movies, you wanted to seem like a courageous girl at first, you could hang out with the older kids, you could be cool. But the movie was too gory, too scary, too bone chilling, and he noticed that. Your frozen digits digging even deeper into his skin, your face nuzzled into his neck, he could feel every breath you let out, every whimper you murmured and it got heat rushing to his crotch, it made him lose his mind… Evil smirk on his face, as he pulled you closer, so close in fact, the heat coming out of his body was enough to warm you up, so close in fact, you’re sitting between his legs. Despite his lust filled expression, his voice was smooth and enchanting “It’s ok y/n, I got you, I got you… Wanna do something that will take your mind off of this movie? Yeah? Ok then, you just sit back and relax, I’ll take care of the rest…” All you needed to do was nod and here he has you in his arms, gently dropping you to the couch, and now it’s his head that is nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Not to hide but to breathe in your scent and most importantly, to sink his teeth into the soft flesh; marking you. A chill ran down your spine, not an unpleasant one though, it got your back arching, your eyelids fluttering. His leg nudging yours open, his knee pressing to your heat, catching your clit. And you don’t know what that feeling is. It feels good, it made your mind go blank, it made your breath get caught in your throat, it made you want more, but something wasn’t letting you enjoy it properly, something was telling you that it’s wrong to do that. He must’ve sensed it. His rubbing stopped, he lifted up his head, eyes looking into yours, way too soft for it to be genuine, but you couldn’t pick that up. “What is it Y/n? Am I hurting you? No? Then don’t worry, relax… You’re safe with me, trust me!” And how could you not. It’s Asahi, the sweet man that everyone trusts, the sweet man that wouldn’t hurt a fly, the sweet man that wants nothing but make you feel good…
         So you relaxed in his hold. You let him pepper your skin with kisses and hickeys. You let him take off your shirt, let his eyes roam all over your body and his large hands explore your every inch. You felt warm, inside out. You felt light-headed, lost, all you could focus was the way his facial hair was brushing against your flesh, tickling you and yet, setting fire to your soul. And you don’t want to be saved, you want to burn, you want to be engulfed by fire, by him. And he could tell, the way your nipples harden and poke from your thin bra, the way you pressed yourself harder into him, grinding up to him, your body moving and you can’t control it. He didn’t mind it, not one bit, actually he loves it. The way you lost yourself into him, making his bulge strain his pants even more, he couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t control himself anymore. In one swift movement, he took off his shirt, quickly unclasping your bra and latching his mouth onto one of your hardened peaks. Your soft moans and heavy breathing made him suck harder, his hands caressing your sides and finding your shorts, sliding them down your legs making you shiver in either anticipation or cold, who knows. And when he finally pulled you panties to the side, pushing his fingers in, groaning from just how wet you are, you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help his name coming out of your mouth, whiny and breathy, begging him for more, more, more. Your wishes are his command. One finger, became two, then three, looking for that spongy spot inside you, and oh, from the way your back arched, your legs trembled, and your walls fluttered around his digits, it seems like he found it. Abusing the spot over and over again, living for the way your eyebrows knit, your voice picking up an octave. Living for the way you’re absolutely shaking underneath him, and all of it keeping him going, harder and harder with each twist of his fingers, it was no surprise at least for him, how fast you came, you did fall for his trap after all. And he wasn’t done yet. No matter how tired, exhausted you were, no matter how weakly you tried to push him off from you. He’s not giving up, he did come here with a mission, and despite popular believes, once he puts his mind onto something, Asahi is perseverant man. Getting rid of his sweats, boxers sliding down with them, his cock finally set free, standing long and proud. You swear it’s not going to fit, and you swear the sheer size of it scared you more than the movie that you were watching mere minutes ago. But he didn’t pay you any mind, not when he’s solely thinking about ruining you. Holding you in place, you’re squirming too much, his grip on your hips is bruising, his breath fanning over your face and sending shivers down your spine, finally ripping your panties away from you, giving you one last look. But this one was different, it was dark, with something you can’t quite put your finger on it. It was cold, it was strict, it seems like it held a deeper meaning, one that you probably not want to find out, and even if you did, you know it’s too sinister to believe that it was from Azumane. “Stay still, and don’t scream too loud, we don’t want the neighbors to interrupt us, right?” And you can’t believe that’s Asahi’s voice, bone chilling and hair rising. Not the sweet, soft young man. But saying that this somber side of him didn’t make you gush out, didn’t make you drool and excited, would be a lie. When he picked up on your lust drunk eyes, is when he decided to finally push in. Wrapped between your velvety walls, it’s a feeling he could get lost in, it’s a feeling he could get addicted too. With each roll of his hips, you could feel every vein grazing against your inside, you could feel him brushing and pressing against that euphoric spot, and he’s not even all the way in. The stretch hurt, brought tears to your eyes, but at the same time you were loving it, you wanted more of it, more of him. Although he wasn’t afraid that you’ll reject him, that you’ll hate him, he couldn’t care less, but with the way that you’ve been meeting each and every one of his thrust, the way your nails were digging into his shoulders and your back creating the perfect curve, pressing your chest into his, he was delighted to say the least. “Oh, baby, you like that? You like it when I fuck you senseless? You like getting fucked by your big brother’s friend? I always knew you were a little slut, just acting sweet and silly. I mean, you’re always- oh? You like it when I call you a slut? Don’t say no, I felt your walls fluttering around me baby girl…  So naughty, always wearing those shorts and showing your ass around. Don’t say you didn’t expect me to bend you over and taste you, mm?” He’s wrong, he’s so wrong. You trusted him, you trusted his gentle smile and his helping hands. The looks he always threw your way, you thought were accidents, innocent. But look how wrong you are, and look how you can’t bring yourself to hate him, not when he’s pounding into you like a beast, not when his teeth are sinking into your flesh, not when he’s turned your mind into mush, driving you so, so close to the edge. The knot inside you getting tighter, and you could feel him twitch inside you, you could hear his growls and grunts. You could feel his hands tightening on your hips, so much, knuckles turned white, too much, he was shaking. And his words pushed you over the edge, free falling into pleasure “Who’s my baby slut? Yeah, yeah, it’s you! Who’s my good baby girl? That’s right, it’s you. I own you. I own you. I own you...” I was your voice getting higher and louder, your walls milking him, and your tongue lulled out, his name coming out in a choke that made him spill over, releasing inside you…
         Pulling out, you were grateful for the blankets, keeping the mixture of both of you from staining the couch. With the first proper kiss of the night, his lips chapped and demanding as they pressed into your much softer one, he stood up, and put his cloths back on. Making his way to the door, leaving you in the cold room alone, but not before a few last words “I’ll be back soon little slut, don’t miss me too much, ok?”
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teentitwns · 3 years
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soooo, as you know i wrote some bbrae fanfictions and, this one, especifically, called “all you had to do was stay” (yes, taylor swift’s song) was published in 2017 but i deleted after sometime because im little lazy and the history always seems easily in my mind.
anyway! i decided to rewrite this fanfiction and the first chapter is already posted on the brazilian website that i use (spirit fanfics), so why not put in here too?
please, remember that im brazilian and my english is a little broken - sorry for the mistakes you’ll find on the text.
well, thats it. im really nervous right now and insecure. i hope you like it and, maybe, i can post the fanfiction on ao3 or another website.
_______________
The protective dome around Raven was totally useless and, like her friends, she knew it.
She was there, standing in the middle of the contraption built by Cyborg, with all her vital signs being recorded on the computers that occupied a large part of the room, beeping together with the devices that showed her brain waves.
Everything had been perfectly assembled and positioned so that she had the best protection that anyone could have in the face of what was about to happen, but all those technological tools made her feel like a laboratory rat, studied in vain to discover that in the end the experience had gone wrong again.
She sighed loudly and propped her elbows on her knees, resting her face in one hand; she no longer cared about floating.
She felt physically and mentally drained to use her powers in something as unnecessary as floating, and she didn't need to be inches from the ground at that moment.
In fact, it was better to have contact with the earth, with the concrete floor. At least she would be sure that she was still alive, that the world was fine and whole.
Raven let out a loud snort and huffed impatiently, her eyes roaming the room until they found the door, waiting, miraculously, for one of the other Titans to enter. She had been inside that dome for hours and she couldn't take it anymore - loneliness was good when chosen willingly, not out of obligation.
To her despair, in addition to the blatant private prison that was happening there, the kidnapping, or anything else of that level, the situation made terrible flashbacks go through her head, making her remember Slade, the brand of Scath , the end of the world and, consequently, Trigon.
Why did everything have to be so similar? It seemed that karma was acting exactly the same as it had on her sixteenth birthday, creating a tedious and scary looping. She never considered herself a fan of automatic repetitions anyway.
Unconsciously, she took her left hand into the pocket of her midnight blue cloak in hopes of finding a specific object inside it, but this time, she had no lucky coin to cling to and consider as an amulet. She was alone, forgotten, practically left to die, just as she should have been two years ago, on the fateful day when Trigon’s Prophecy almost came true.
The empath, a “witch” as many called her, allowed herself to laugh with mockery. She hated feeling sorry for her own tragic life, but she couldn't escape the pitiful thoughts she was having. She probably didn't think differently from what her friends had in mind - she was just a poor girl, victim of circumstances, who was not to blame for being the fruit of the forbidden, unhealthy relationship between a human and an interdimensional demon. She was not to blame for being “Daddy's darling”, the one chosen to bring him to Earth for the second time, since she was a poorly raised daughter and prevented him the first time.
Now, at eighteen, she wouldn't be as lucky as she was at sixteen.
"Azarath Metrion Zinthos… Azarath Metrion Zinthos…”, she closed her eyes and started to meditate, with nothing else to do. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos…”
“Raven!"
She opened her eyes with a start, facing Beast Boy. Awkwardly, he spread his hands on the thick glass of the dome, breathing heavily.
“Great.", She thought. “Of all the people that Robin could send, he chose the most restless."
" What are you doing here?", she asked.
“Dude, isn't it obvious? We’re doing it wrong! ”, Beast Boy waved his hands compulsively. “I mean, it's your father! There is no one better to stop him than you!”
“If I leave here it will be easier to get to Earth."
“I really don't want to be pessimistic, but he's already here, mama."
“Beast Boy..."
“It worked last time, didn't it? What good will it do you to be stuck in that dome? The world will end anyway!”
“Weren't you the one who was upbeat until two seconds ago?"
“I still am!"
“Does Robin know you're here?"
“…yes."
“I don’t believe that."
“Of course I told him,", the shapeshifter scratched the back of his head, causing his newly acquired muscles to start filling his uniform to appear. “I just don't know if he paid attention.”, He gave a nervous smile.
“It doesn't count as a warning."
“Have you never been told that what counts is the intention?"
Raven rolled her eyes and uncrossed her legs, standing up. She walked over to where Beast Boy was, touching the dome with her fingertips. He smiled broadly, running to the nearest computer and typing in the code that would free her.
When the dome barriers disappeared, Raven adjusted the hood on her head, thinking about the possibilities that surrounded her. Beast Boy was right, after all. Trigon was already on Earth, like the first time, and she would not be of much help if she were trapped, safe and sound, while her friends killed themselves to save the world.
“I knew you'd be up for it!" He celebrated, approaching her.
“It wasn't your worst idea."
“I'm smart, you underestimate me too much."
“I must have my reasons for that, right?
“Taking into account my discussions about tofu being the best food in the world can’t be considered as a reason.”
“No?”
“We all have our childish moments.”
“And you have your adult moments.”, she said.
“Nothing for having released you, I’m at your service.
“Where are they?”
“Downtown.”
“Excellent.”
“Raven”, Beast Boy called her when she started to leave. “Are you ready to go?”
“You don’t?”
“It's just… You have nothing to bring you luck.”
“I don't believe in luck.”, she lied, ignoring the thought that she had been wishing for a lucky charm a few minutes ago.
“Why not?”
“I make my own luck.”
“But it's always good to have help, isn't it?”
“Come on, Beast Boy.”
He shook his head negatively and approached her, holding her arm firmly and preventing her from getting away. The difference in height between them remained almost nil, with Raven looking a little taller from a distance because of the hood.
She frowned and looked at him without understanding, trying to pull her arm out of his grip, uncomfortable with the position they were in.
“It's just…”, Beast Boy started to speak. “I shouldn't be here and I know it. You are always so focused and correct that you even embarrass me for acting that way, but, last time, you had the coin I gave you and we won.
“I don’t know where it is.”, Raven lied, lowering her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. Some of her emotions were manifested in Nevermore, reminding her of the small passion she held for him. Passion, that, that she was sure that she would never be reciprocated. He was not a philanderer, he had never dated anyone after Terra, but he was not unaware of love affairs like her. She had a little more experience, even though she was also small. “We can't keep others waiting.”
“I can't let you go without an amulet.”
“There is no such thing as luck, Beast Boy! How many times have I told you that we need to run after what we want?”
“Many.”
“And none of them fixed on your brain?”
“Apparently no.”
“I should have imagined.”
“Why can't you give me a credit?”
“You are acting like a child who believes in Santa Claus.”
“And you're being cruel to me.”, he complained. “I thought you stopped that a while ago.”
“I stopped. Are we going to battle or not?”, Raven asked impatiently. “The world is about to end!”
“I know!”
“Then let me go!”
“I can't let you leave here without an amulet!”
“So give me this shit!”
Raven's words echoed around the room, and Beast Boy smirked, as if he had been waiting for this ever since they started arguing.
Such nonsense fights and quick discussions were not new to them, who were used to being awkward a few times a day, always for stupid reasons. However, that time, the shapeshifter had a purpose and, knowing that Raven would play the game, he put his idea into practice, which ended up working very well, thank you.
Raven shook her head and shrugged, silently asking if he wouldn't give her anything. She was waiting for a frog charm or other coin, but all she received was a warm kiss on the mouth, which made her blow up the nearest computer monitor.
The touch of Beast Boy's lips on his made her close her eyes instantly, her body and mind embracing the fact that she wanted that kiss - she had even been waiting for him for a long time, having fantasized the moment several times in the stillness of his. room.
On the other hand, Beast Boy didn't explode at all, but he felt his whole body vibrating. Her cheeks were as flushed as Raven’s, and it had taken him a long time to have the courage to kiss her.
The kiss could not be considered "worthy of a movie" because the two were too tense to give themselves up completely. They did not know where to put their hands and neither should they do it; A light in their heads blinked incessantly, reminding them that the world was ending while they were kissing, and billions of people were at risk.
It could be considered an ordinary kiss, but for Raven and Beast Boy, it meant much more than that.
They separate after a few seconds, unable to exchange a direct look. Beast Boy cleared his throat and Raven clung more tightly to her cloak, almost disappearing inside it.
“Raven”, Beast Boy smiled, making her look him in the eye quickly. Without breaking eye contact, he simply stuck a five-cent coin in her hand. Like old times. “Good luck.”
—————————————-
ok, i had no idea that the text would lose the diagramming!!! i wrote this on my iphone notes, sorryyyy
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amy-the-fairy · 2 years
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For all my flaws I think my reasoning on sex is quite funny. I just see it as something to watch like anything a couple does.
Which is why I am bored by sex scene very fast since for one if it's straight it's always a woman being dominated in the same boring ass way by a dominating alpha male and if he isn't outside of the bed he change into one in it
That's boring. That's literally like this in every depiction of straight sex wether it's aimed to women or men. So as someone who isn't fantasizing of the situation it's the equivalent of seeing a trope repeated eternally
Which is also why you see me avoiding stuff with Sukuna. Well for one because most of the time it would be self insert and you know how the idea of having sex myself make me panick and want to kill the character i am supposed to do that with. But not only!
It's just that Sukuna is well Sukuna. So I don't need to say more about how he could be in this situation.
I realize that we could go "but WHAT IF SUKUNA IS A BOTTOM" here but he's just easy to think about with my URL so since I already talked about that with Toji I will go to the actual point which is
I need more dominating women in nsfw content. For the love of god I need variety like in relationship it's becoming more common but why nsfw is always the same?
Also why the characters personality leave their body in that situation? People don't just side in a role or another! It's even worst in gay relationship!!! Y'all act like you're ever seme and uke but that's not true
Why this is just one doing everything while the other lie like a pillow princess everytime
I know people generally write it just to write their fantasies but I've read some where there's an actual thing going there beside exchange of fluid
But there's also that most of nsfw content i will get come from either fanfic or doujinshi. Since hentai is just... Terrible in this department
And idk fellow women don't any of you want to take the control? It's not even about being modern or anything it's just
The relationship I write in my Ososan fic is like that. Especially that it's also because I am tired of the "this man is cute but THEN HE CHANGE INTO A BEAST" I am sure there's a number of girls who would like them to still stay cute
And you know it's through reading bl again that I realized. It's the ONLY context I get where guys get to be cute in a established relationship.
Which may explain you why I am this attached to Izumi (no I don't want to see him do stuff with Shikimori but I post about him so much I don't have other example)
I often wonder that when I see gl and bl. Why the girl who act dominating can't be with a dominant guy? Actually I won't even say "why not someone who would be dominated with someone else like that" since you can get it in Shojo at least
The only case of that I know is Kabakura and Hanako in wotakoi. Refreshing.
But yeah where I am going here is, I want more role reversal because it's boring maaan...
I don't read that much bl still, like I actually REREAD some and I mostly have shounen ai so it's not sexual but knowing my nature as soon as I will see a overwhelmingly present pattern I will go "SUBVERT IT"
But for that case though, it's not a pattern, it's the default wether the public and it's boring yeah
Like I guess it work because people are like that. And I guess we can thank porn too in some way.
So that was the weird rant of the night thanks for listening. The fic I talk about haven't updated in a year, maybe I should get back to it but I am exhausted right now and have to eat
I think this case though is really a case of boredom than me just going "subvert it" because I am curious...
But I bet there's more women and even men wanting that too but gender role is a hell of a drug
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ovidialee · 3 years
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After the War Author Interview: @solasnarealtai
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The second of our Four Horseman @solasnarealtai​ lets us into her writer brain to school us on why Snarcissa makes uncanny sense--in canon, no less, and why she wouldn’t survive life in the Wizarding World. And I can confirm that she adorably talks EXACTLY like this in real life:
1) Which came first for you - original work or fanfiction?
Definitely original, but I can’t say that any of the early stuff was any good. I was just a kid that liked to make up stories, whether I was really writing them down or thinking them in my head...but my mom says that I’ve been writing for about as long as she can remember. I discovered fanfic when I was in high school - I think it was my freshman year. One of my really good friends shared most of my classes and we sat near each other in all of them. I noticed her writing a lot one day and asked what she was working on. She asked if I’d heard of a particular manga (I cannot recall the name of it) and even though I hadn’t, she proceeded to explain to me that she was writing fanfiction of it. She was using her own characters, however, and essentially just had me make one up and let me start writing with her. You can say I was hooked after that! 
2) I never pictured Snarcissa or really thought about it. You definitely opened my eyes to why it works so well. I’d love for you to share the drive behind these two characters -- and specifically why in a bookstore? 
Why wouldn’t I?! Joking aside... There's just something about them that makes sense to me. I started shipping them after Half-Blood Prince came out and I read the Spinner’s End scene. Everything about that chapter was pushing me to this belief that there had been something between these two in the past, even if there wasn’t currently. Narcissa clearly knew the way to Snape’s house, for one, and I think we can all agree that he is not a man who would give just anyone access to his home. She also grabs at his robes, is so close to him that her tears are literally falling on his chest...and he lets her.
Snape and Narcissa are both very intelligent people and I don’t think I’m alone in finding smart people attractive; we’re just drawn together, almost like magnets.
The Unbreakable Vow has some wedding vow vibes to it, and I’ve seen arguments all over the internet citing it as evidence either for or against this ship. It is true, I think, that Snape is willing to do what he must for his role of spy, but...some lesser men wouldn’t have agreed to make that vow. This ties a bit into my headcanon of him as Draco’s godfather as well. He is doing what he can to help people he cares about. 
It is very unrealistic that he - especially as a grown man - would go the rest of his life pining over a supposed failed romantic relationship from his childhood and then just abstain from any relationship. I have many feelings about the Potters, which I’ll mostly abstain from right now, but the way that I write my Snape in regards to Lily is that he loved her as his friend, and that love may have come across a bit stronger than it would from other people, but he didn’t exactly have many role models in his life to know the nuances of those emotions at the time. So, my Snape regrets a lot of things, but he’s going to keep living….and part of that includes his life between the sheets. 
I know the other Horsemen have taken inspiration from your wonderfully crafted Death Eater Chronicles, no matter which characters they’re writing -- and it’s brilliant! But if I write Snape, I write my Snape, and that man loves books. I’m a bookseller myself, which is part of why I’ve got all these scenes going through my head, but...we’ve seen what his house looks like. Books are everywhere along the walls. It’s literally a bibliophile’s dream to have that! I don’t know that all of them - or even many of them - fantasize specifically about having some hot sex surrounded by books but...I’m just saying  (again)  that I find smart people very attractive. And my Snape finds it very satisfactory. 
3) And we find your Snape supremely satisfying. You are, after all, the queen of the Snape Bookstore Smut AU. If you had to write the AU of your life, what would it be? And what tropes would you use?
I honestly don’t even know how to answer this question. I will say though, if somebody adapted it to a film, I’d probably insist that it have a soundtrack similar to Beauty and the Beast (fun fact, that’s one of my favorites) and....I could see my love of writing being there still, but I could also picture it completely gone. For the sake of humoring myself, we’ll say I keep it. I go to a fancy school and get a great book deal, but then...oops….I’m having trouble writing and need to get some inspiration, so I go off on a little trip to seclude myself, but a couple days in, I have a meet-cute with an adorably quirky person -- probably a guy but I’m open to ladies too. I’d probably need help with something or we’re both reaching for the last copy of some book. And then I need the only one bed trope to come into play somewhere. That is one of my favorites, because I’m ridiculously simple sometimes… I’ll agree that it is so overdone, but it’s a trope for a reason! And I’m a sucker for it!
If we’re saying AU as in, I get to go into the Potter universe instead of anything like our own, I’m definitely going to Hogwarts and not Ilvermorny. I have spent most of my life picturing myself in Scotland, and going shopping in Diagon Alley. I’m not changing that because we finally get some answers on magic in America. Plus, accents. 
Anyway. Hmm… As much as I want to be Slytherin, my Puff roots run deep, so I’d still stick with getting my taste of Slytherin elsewhere. *wink wink* I feel like such a basic person for saying this, but I’d have wanted to be there while Snape was a professor, because he’s got the sort of knowledge about his subject I admire in a teacher and I love learning from people who really know their shit. This obviously means I’d have to be around for the second Wizarding War, but I’ll be really honest and I doubt I’d have made it out alive. So...maybe no tropes for me there.
It has emotions, it has yearning, it has...books and Snape and smut. READ Even the Night Bleeds
Stay tuned for our third Horseman’s fic…
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kaesaaurelia · 3 years
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books and reading in 2021
Overall I’d like to read at least 65 books for 2021 and I’d like for most of those to be new-to-me and things I either already own or have listed as to-read on Goodreads.
So far I have read 11/65 books and 4 fanworks.
Themed reading challenge checklists and brief book reviews are under the cut.  I may or may not finish any of these challenges; again, my goal is to cut down my to-be-read list and unread books I own, and themes and deadlines help me pick a book rather than hemming and hawing.
Book reviews answer the questions “Did I like it? Was it good? Would I recommend it?” (please note these are very different questions) and how many stars I rated it.
I may put fanfiction, webfiction, and other things that are very much not traditional books down on here as well, depending on how booklike I’ve decided they are.
The FFA reading challenge, 2021 (2/12 books)
JANUARY - The Pandemic Year - a medical thriller, or a book about medicine The Poisoner's Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York by Deborah Blum Did I like it? Yeah! Was it good? I think so.  Sometimes the prose meandered in such a way that I felt the author was kind of saying dun dun dun! under her breath at me, and I was like “idk, is that significant?” but usually it was good. Would I recommend it? Do you have a strong stomach? Then sure. 4 stars
FEBRUARY - Macavity/Ratigan - a genre you wouldn't normally read Jane Doe by Victoria Helen Stone, book 1 in the Jane Doe series Did I like it?  Yes!  Very much!  The power fantasy of being able to take vengeance against people who hurts your loved ones, without feeling bad about it, was really appealing to me, a person who feels guilt over a frankly ridiculous number of things.  It was also genuinely funny. Was it good?  I thought so.  The narrator had a really strong voice that struck the right balance between creepy cold indifference and endearing little moments of self-discovery. Would I recommend it? Yes, but with the caveat that there’s some pretty serious emotional abuse of the protagonist’s false persona (which she encourages and privately gloats about), and she also gets close to committing serious violence, including fantasizing at length about it. 5 stars
MARCH – 100+ Comments of Terror - a book set in the arctic, or a book about an expedition In the Land of White Death: An Epic Story of Survival in the Siberian Arctic by Valerian Albanov (ordered)
APRIL - Sexy John Oliver Rat – a book about animals, or a book with a character called Oliver or Olivia A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling (hardcover)
MAY - A Feud in Wolf-Kink Erotica - a book involving wolves, the legal system, or ripped from the headlines Song of the Summer King by Jess Owen (ebook)
JUNE - Showerhead Wank - a comedy of manners, an etiquette manual, or a book where someone wanks or has sex
JULY – My Shithead Is What You Are! - a book with profanity in it, or a book about themes of censorship
AUGUST - Yep, Still Indoors - a book involving travel, or being stuck in one place
SEPTEMBER - Socktopus, Maybe? - a book where someone has a secret identity, or a book about aquatic animals
OCTOBER - Politics is Sequestered – a book involving politics or politicians Boss: Richard J. Daley of Chicago by Mike Royko (owned in DRM’d ebook)
NOVEMBER - It's Canon in Spanish - read a book originally written in Spanish, or set in Latin America
DECEMBER - Apple Is a One Syllable Word - a book about language/linguistics/etc., or a book with a two syllable title. 
Around the Year in 52 Books (8/52 books)
A book related to “In the Beginning...”: (Using the subprompt a book set in the ancient world) The Odyssey by Homer, translated by Emily Wilson Did I like it? Yes; it was definitely a less comfortable read than prior translations I have read, but a more interesting one, I think.  A lot of details leapt out at me that I had either forgotten or that had been overlooked in the 3ish literature classes I have read the Odyssey for. Was it good? Yes! Would I recommend it? Probably, with the caveat that if you are just in it for a cool mythology story you would probably prefer an adaptation rather than a translation. 5 stars
A book by an author whose name doesn't contain the letters A, T or Y The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis Did I like it?  I really read this for the worldbuilding of Hell, so I liked that; to some extent I did also like some of the musings on how a lot of human foibles that people like to think of as virtues can actually be kind of shitty.  On the other hand, Lewis and I disagree about a lot of things -- mostly that whole Christianity thing.  So I liked it with caveats. Was it good? It was okay!  Again, I was not really there for the Christianity stuff.  I am never there for the Christianity stuff.  I am either precisely the wrong audience for all of C.S. Lewis’ stuff, or, if you look at it a certain way, precisely the right audience, but even if you look at it that way, he is never going to convince me; I wrote furious postcanon fanfiction about the dwarfs when I reread the Narnia books as a teenager and realized they were meant to represent people like me. Would I recommend it?  Probably not?  Unless you frequently write demons or other evil creatures trying to figure out how humans work, which I guess I am. 4 stars but only because that reveal at the end is great
A book related to the lyrics for the song "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music (The cover depicts a rose with raindrops or dewdrops on it.) Ensnared by Rita Stradling Did I like it? In a sense.  In a sense, I enjoyed this book.  It was a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and I like Beauty and the Beast.  There were robots, and I like robots.  And it certainly gave me something fun to talk about.  However, it also inspired me to try and figure out when and why I acquired this book, and while I still don’t know why I bought it, I was relieved to find that I only paid 99 cents for it.  For a more thorough description of the plot, please see my Goodreads review.  It was a weird book to start with, and then it really, really didn’t age well. Was it good?  IT SURE WASN’T. Would I recommend it?  No.  However, if you decide to read it I’d love to hear what you think.  Please.  Please talk to me about this book. 2 stars
A book with a monochromatic cover The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America by Erik Larson Did I like it?  Yes, very much!  Also it accidentally became fic research.  I genuinely was just thinking “where do I slip Leonard into this narrative so he can try and fail to sabotage the Ferris Wheel?” and then I began to think about how much Leonard would admire and envy H. H. Holmes’ ladykilling ways.  But in general it was a really good read and had a lot of... Chicagoness, which I of course am fond of. Was it good? I thought so!  Obviously a lot of the narratives of Holmes’ murders were mostly the author’s speculation, but there were a lot of great research tidbits in there, and the picture the author paints of the World’s Fair was vivid and wonderful. Would I recommend it?  Yes, with the warning that this is true crime and there is vivid narration of several murders, including the murders of several children. 5 stars
A book by an author on USA Today's list of 100 Black Novelists You Should Read Wild Seed by Octavia Butler, book 1 of the Patternmaster series Did I like it?  Yes, but it was intense.  It takes a lot of skill to keep me reading and invested through so many horrors; the protagonist’s children and loved ones die on-page multiple times, in horrible accidents or senselessly murdered, and it hurts every time, but I kept reading.  Admittedly I am (predictably) extremely here for immortal enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies angst, so that was probably part of it. Was it good?  Yes!  I am kind of sad that I’m not just moving on to the next in the series (there are 3 more books), but also, god, I’m not sure I could handle it. Would I recommend it?  Yes, definitely, with the caveat that it is very dark and very sad. 5 stars
A love story Deal with the Devil by Kit Rocha, book 1 of the Mercenary Librarians series Did I like it?  It was good!  I gather both of the authors who are Kit Rocha were (are still?) in fandom, and it shows in the right ways; it doesn’t shy away from depicting sex pretty explicitly but there’s a lot of emotion in it, and the main couple is a m/f couple without the book being unpleasantly heteronormative.  Like, yeah, it’s about a big butch macho dude who’s broken inside and a woman who’s very caring, but the big butch macho dude is genuinely kind and not like, violent for the hell of it or overprotectively jealous, and the woman doesn’t drop everything to Heal His Pain.  (Also I think most of the characters, including the romantic leads, are established to have had same-gender lovers at one point or another without that being considered unusual or wrong in the setting, so that’s nice.)  It’s also a cheerful and optimistic post-apocalyptic book about two found families coming together to make the world a better place, despite the very grim backstories of pretty much everyone in the story, which is really nice. Was it good?  It was okay.  It was good popcorny reading; it’s not winning any literature prizes, but it sets out to be fun and readable and exciting, and it is all of those things.  Also, as noted above, the prose has a lot of the strengths of fanfic (not being afraid to mix genres, not being afraid of writing sex earnestly and emotionally but also explicitly, strong emotional focus) without the much-derided stereotypical weaknesses of fanfic. Would I recommend it?  Probably?  This isn’t a must-read; it’s happy to be idfic so if it sounds like it’d scratch your id I would recommend it, but it might not be Your Thing and that’s okay too. 4 stars
A book that fits a prompt suggestion that didn't make the final list (Using the subprompt a book related to a local industry or small business) The Gangs of Chicago: An Informal History of the Chicago Underworld by Herbert Asbury Did I like it? NO.  NO I DID NOT.  It made me genuinely angry.  It was a useful read for fic research and unfortunately I’ve got it in my little fic-writing reference material corner in my office but I DID NOT LIKE THIS BOOK IT WAS VERY BAD.  Many questionable or outright incorrect assertions and implications, and extremely racist and sexist.  For details, see my review on Goodreads. Was it good? It was actively bad. Would I recommend it? Not unless you are interested in it historiographically, or on the off chance that you are trying to find some fiddly details about a particular bit of Chicago crime history, but also have no responsibility to make sure those fiddly details are correct when you use them in the project. 1 star
A book set in a state, province, or country you have never visited The Last Duel: A True Story of Crime, Scandal, and Trial by Combat in Medieval France by Eric Jager Did I like it?  It was okay.  It was definitely interesting but not amazingly life-changing. Was it good?  It was fine!  I did think the underlying rape case was handled surprisingly sensitively given that this was a male author writing about 20 years ago about a medieval rape accusation and trial, but there is a chapter that is basically just the victim’s account of her rape, and it’s very brutal. Would I recommend it?  Do you want to understand more about trial by combat in the Middle Ages, and/or learn about how medieval people treated rape victims?  You should definitely read this book.  But if that doesn’t particularly interest you, probably not. 3 stars
A book you associate with a specific season or time of year Summers at Castle Auburn (ebook borrowed from CPL)
A book with a female villain or criminal Sin in the Second City: Madams, Ministers, Playboys, and the Battle for America's Soul by Karen Abbott (owned in paperback)
A book to celebrate The Grand Egyptian Museum The Oasis by Pauline Gedge (ebook)
A book eligible for the Warwick Prize for Women in Translation The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa (on hold at CPL; est. 3 week wait)
A book written by an author of one of your best reads of 2020 The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow (on hold at CPL; est. 10 week wait???)
A book set in a made-up place Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey (paperback)
A book that features siblings as the main characters Sisters One, Two, Three by Nancy Star (ebook)
A book with a building in the title
A book with a Muslim character or author
3 books related to "Past, Present, Future" - Book 1
3 books related to "Past, Present, Future" - Book 2
3 books related to "Past, Present, Future" - Book 3
A book whose title and author both contain the letter "u"
A book posted in one of the ATY Best Book of the Month threads
A cross genre novel
A book about racism or race relations
A book set on an island
A short book (<210 pages) by a new-to-you author
A book with a character who can be found in a deck of cards
A book connected to ice
A book that you consider comfort reading
A long book
A book by an author whose career spanned more than 21 years
A book whose cover shows more than 2 people
A collection of short stories, essays, or poetry
A book with a travel theme
A book set in a country on or below the Tropic of Cancer
A book with six or more words in the title
A book from the Are You Well Read in World Literature list
A book related to a word given by a random word generator
A book involving an immigrant
A book with flowers or greenery on the cover
A book by a new-to-you BIPOC author
A mystery or thriller
A book with elements of magic
A book whose title contains a negative
A book related to a codeword from the NATO Phonetic Alphabet
A winner or nominee from the 2020 Goodreads Choice Awards
A non-fiction book other than biography, autobiography or memoir
A book that might cause someone to react “You read what?!?” Missing 411: Eastern United States by David Paulides (terrible pdf copy I’m not paying $100 for a book about extradimensional bigfoot)
A book with an ensemble cast
A book published in 2021
A book whose title refers to person(s) without giving their name
A book related to "the end"
There’s No Business Like Snow Business February Reading Challenge (8/8)
Snow is precipitation in the form of small white ice crystals formed directly from the water vapor of the air at a temperature of less than 0°C (32°F).
Read a book that has snow on the cover or snow in the title. Killing Dragons: The Conquest of the Alps by Fergus Fleming Did I like it? It was okay.  There was more about the personalities involved in early mountaineering than I did about actual mountain-climbing, which was fine, but didn’t get really exciting until those personalities got really dysfunctional. Was it good?  Again, it was okay.  The prose wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t gripping, and there was some odd (lack of) translation on occasion.  The research seemed thorough and solid, though. Would I recommend it?  Not really, unless you are specifically looking to research the Alps or early European mountain-climbing enthusiasts for a writing project or something, in which case, of course. 3 stars
Precipitation: Read a book that has any weather related term in the title. Trail of Lightning, book 1 of The Sixth World, by Rebecca Roanhorse Did I like it?  Yes!  This took me back to my first forays into urban fantasy as a preteen/young teen.  I loved the Diana Tregarde books and also Harry Turtledove’s The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump, and whenever I want urban fantasy that’s kind of the pattern I’m looking for?  An unfriendly world full of myths that are real and living and breathing and otherworldly but also they are probably trying to bum a cigarette off you.  I haven’t reread my favorite childhood urban fantasy because I think it probably won’t hold up, and later urban fantasy has mostly been not quite what I wanted, but this book was like being that kid all over again.  I’m not super familiar with Dine folklore/mythology so it was neat to learn a little bit about that, too, although obviously to learn those stories maybe don’t go to an urban fantasy novel. Was it good?  It was pretty good!  The prose wasn’t like, stylistically exciting, but it conveyed the plot well, and I did like the narrative voice, and the characterization was good, I thought. Would I recommend it?  Absolutely.  Content warning for violence (as per urban fantasy) and a child dies violently early on in the book, but if you were the kind of kid I was but you’re not really into paranormal romance or Harry Dresden, give it a try. 4 stars
Small: Read a book that has less than 200 pages. A Butt in the Mist: Stirred to the Core of My Bodice by the Duchess Triceratops of Helena by Chuck Tingle Did I like it?  I mostly did, but it wasn’t super exciting.  I liked the free book afterwards better.  It was funny, but Chuck’s been funnier. Was it good? This 4,000 word book was written with all the quality and attention to detail that I have come to expect from beloved author Chuck Tingle. Would I recommend it? Not really?  It was funny, but I think I like his more metafictional stuff better, and I think he gets a lot weirder with his m/m stuff; if I’m reading Chuck Tingle, I want it to be weird. 3 stars
Snow is formed of crystals and is a slang term for diamonds. Read a book in which a gem or other mineral can be found in the plot, title, or cover art. Ombria in Shadow by Patricia A. McKillip Did I like it?  Mostly!  I love the lush visuals of McKillip’s prose; they more than live up to the also gorgeous covers.  Dreamy fairytale stuff but with solid emotions and a good sense of place. Was it good?  I think so, although the dreamlike quality of the prose does mean you’re liable to miss something if your attention drifts. Would I recommend it?  Yes, I think so. 5 stars
Snow is a dessert made of stiffly beaten whites of eggs, sugar, and fruit pulp. Read a book with a dessert on the cover, or read a book in which a dessert is made. Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder by Joanne Fluke, book 1 of the Hannah Swensen series Did I like it? I enjoyed parts of it, but I thought it really suffered at the beginning, when our introduction to the detective was “not like other girls, not interested in DATING and MEN” and our introduction to her older sister is “she was a DITZY CHEERLEADER and now she’s married with a kid but she’s a HORRIBLE CAREER HARPY who WORKS ALL DAY and puts her child in DAYCARE and CAN’T COOK” and that was all just very tiresome.  The sister does turn out to have redeeming qualities and useful interests, but the way these two and their mother interact is all like, if you were asking yourself whether there’s such a thing as toxic femininity and what that would look like, it’s these women.  Aside from that, it was fine; it was a cozy mystery novel about a bakery specializing in cookies.  I will say, I did appreciate the Midwesternness of the small town Midwest setting. Was it good?  Not really.  I did kind of have to handwave a lot to let the detective get away with all the HIPAA violations and crime scene disturbing that she does, but it is a cozy mystery. Would I recommend it? Probably not; I’ve heard this series gets better so if you’re interested in the series and/or like the idea of cookie-themed cozies, maybe start with a different book, unless you’re a completist like I am. 3 stars
Snow is slang for cocaine. Read a book about drugs or drug addiction. The Man With the Golden Arm by Nelson Algren Did I like it?  It was not a fun read, by any means, but Algren’s prose is fantastic and it was such a novelty to see such a familiar accent represented by eye dialect.  (Which I know has fallen out of fashion and is considered the mark of a bad writer, but I really don’t mind it if it’s done well.)  It’s one of those books where nobody has a fair shake and everybody is doomed, but it doesn’t feel gratuitous.   All the characters are horrible to each other, but in fairness they are also horrible to themselves; it’s all they’ve ever known. Was it good?  Yes.  It was extremely good and I’m considering buying a physical copy so I can write things in the margins.  This is actually really weird for me to do; in high school we occasionally had to turn our books in so our teacher could be sure we were writing in them Correctly, and I found it a little painful, but I did want to do it with this book. Would I recommend it?  Yes, if you’re up for a really depressing story about heroin addiction and poverty. 5 stars
White is the color of snow. Read a book that contains white in the cover. The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin Did I like it? I definitely did.  I haven’t read much Le Guin yet for some reason, and while this did initially start off feeling exactly like just another ‘70s SF story where in the future we’ve solved all of psychology and it’s super mechanistic, it was really fascinating and surprisingly, unpleasantly prescient. Was it good?  I thought so!  There were some parts of it that were pretty awkward about race, from a 2021 perspective, but it does actually deal with race in a way that made me think “yes, that’s exactly what would happen as a consequence of this plot, and it would be horrible, oh no, oh shit,” and it is horrible. Would I recommend it?  I am not sure I would!  I would recommend it in like five years, assuming those five years are not much like the last five years.  Hoping and praying that those five years are not much like the last five, really.  The premise of the book -- which I haven’t explained, I realize -- is that in this near-future environmental dystopia, the main character can change things in real life by dreaming about them, and he would like to not do that, only he is put under the care of a psychiatric researcher who tries to play God.  So this poor man literally wakes up every day to a brand new dystopia and it felt... familiar. 4 stars
To snow someone is to deceive, persuade, or charm glibly. Read a book about a con artist, or read a book about deception. Empire of Deception: The Incredible Story of a Master Swindler Who Seduced a City and Captivated the Nation by Dean Jobb Did I like it?  I did.  I have joked that my own personal reading challenge this year is to fill up the Chicago shelf/tag on my Goodreads account, and this book was recommended to me in that spirit, and I always like hearing about a. Chicago; b. the 1920s; and c. con men conning people. Was it good?  The prose was fine; it was fun but I think the thing I appreciated most was all the punny newspaper headlines. Would I recommend it?  If you are someone who perks up at the sound of at least 2 out of 3 of the themes of “Chicago,” “1920s,” and “con men,” yes. 4 stars
2021 Q1 challenge: Changes (3/20)
Read a book that features:
The word "change" (Changes, Changing, or other variations) in its title. Weeds: How Vagabond Plants Gatecrashed Civilisation and Changed the Way We Think About Nature by Richard Mabey Did I like it?  It was all right.  I like hearing about plant history, and the chapter on plants unexpectedly surviving/thriving on battlefields and bombing sites was particularly interesting to me. Was it good?  It was okay, but kind of poorly-organized; there were chapter themes but it felt awfully stream-of-consciousness sometimes. Would I recommend it?  Maybe not unless you’re really into botany and Western anthropology.  (As in, the study of Western cultures; this book does not do much with other cultures.) 3 stars
The theme of money or money on its cover (loose change). Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik Did I like it?  I really, really liked it to the point that I feel kind of silly about it, gotta say.  I’m really, really hit or miss on the author’s work (both fanfic and profic) but the themes of this were perfect for me; Russian fairytales, a cynical but earnest sort of Judaism, creepy fairy abductions, interesting worldbuilding, and women coming together to help each other.  (Also some interesting enemies-to-lovers stuff that wasn’t really developed on the “lovers” side, which I would have dug.  Like its precursor, this book has a lot of f/f friends-to-lovers subtext and hostile canon het.) Was it good?  I don’t know?  I liked it enough that I genuinely don’t know if it was well-written. Would I recommend it?  I would, but I’m not sure you should trust me on this???  Again, this book really, really hit me in the id. 5 stars
An adaptation of its original format (book-to-manga, translation, etc.) Murder on the Rockport Limited! by Clint McElroy et al Did I like it?  It was okay, but not nearly as good as the original podcast’s murder train arc.  The art was good and all, but, eh. Was it good?  It was fine.  I’m not sure how into the DM/character conversations I am, and I found myself having to pause and reimagine the dialogue in the various McElroys’ voices, which wasn’t good because it meant I wasn’t automatically reading them in those voices in my head, which is a major litmus test I use when I’m deciding whether I want to keep reading a fanfic. Would I recommend it?  Definitely not as a standalone thing. 3 stars
The author's initials found in the word "change" Helen of Sparta by Amalia Carosella (in progress)
Separate book sections or part of a series of three or more books (make change) The Seduction of the Crimson Rose by Lauren Willig (in progress)
An author or character writing under a pseudonym The Maker’s Mask by Ankaret Wells (in progress)
A topic or character about which you feel differently now than in the past. La Belle Sauvage by Phillip Pullman
Changing one's mind about a life decision. A Tapestry of Magics by Brian Daley
Switching careers/jobs. The Goblin Emperor by Katherine  Addison
Relocating to a different city, state/province, or country. Fire Season: Field Notes from a Wilderness Lookout by Philip Connors
Cultivating new daily habits. How to Be Fine by Jolenta Greenberg and Kristen Meinzer
A character who shifts shapes or identities. The Lie: A Memoir of Two Marriages, Catfishing & Coming Out by William Dameron
Life changes due to age Two Old Women: An Alaskan Legend of Betrayal, Courage, and Survival by Velma Wallis
A medical transformation Specials by Westerfield, Scott
A life-changing experience. Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, & the Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright
A changing household The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, A Rún, Volume 1 by Nagabe
An action or phenomenon that transforms society or the world. Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression by Studs Terkel
Replacing one thing with another (change out) In Vino Duplicitas: The Rise and Fall of a Wine Forger Extraordinaire by Peter Hellman & Charles Constant
Technological innovation Tubes: A Journey to the Center of the Internet by Andrew Blum
A game-changer. The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914 by Christopher  Clark
Fanfic Reading Challenge recs (1)
I have a private checklist with the fanfic reading challenge data, but will not be sharing all of the fics; fanfiction is generally an amateur endeavor, and many people do not enjoy receiving (or stumbling across) criticism of their work.  Bad reviews are normal and accepted as part of commercial publishing, and professional authors (hopefully!) get paid for their work, so I’m comfortable criticizing published novels.  I would prefer not to publicly criticize someone’s writing when they are just writing for the joy of it, especially since some of the tasks require me to read first-time authors’ fics, fics with relatively low kudos counts, fics for ships I don’t like, etc.  So I’m only putting the recs here.
Romancing the Tome by Anti_kate Good Omens; Aziraphale/Crowley; ~40k words; rated Explicit Romance novelist Aziraphale Wilder is pulled from his carefully ordered life when his sister is kidnapped and held to ransom. With the help of antiquities forger Anthony J Crowley, he braves the wilds of Scotland to rescue her and keep a priceless book from falling into the hands of dangerous book thieves. Did I like it?  Yes!  It was cheesy and cute and basically what I want out of this kind of romcom AU fic.  I’m not normally into human AUs and this one wasn’t like, super deep or anything, but it was very fun. Was it good? I thought so!  The dialogue was great, I enjoyed the characterization, the sex was good.  I do think the Crowley in this fic is pretty self-loathing in a way that I don’t see canon Crowley being at all, but I have a weakness for that and I also think self-loathing works for a human version of Crowley.  One thing it doesn’t shy away from is Crowley doing genuinely awful stuff (instead of being a misunderstood woobie) and yet the resolution is sweet and lovely anyway. Would I rec it? Yes!  Go read this fic.  It’s fast-paced but long enough to be worth settling in to read, it’s funny, and it’s sweet. 5 stars
In Holy Matrimony by Myracuulous Good Omens; Aziraphale/Crowley; ~6.7k words; rated General From the private journal of Alisha Jones, wedding planner, concerning the nuptials of Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale and the planning process thereof, containing an account of chosen decor, guest list construction, and the holy war against the Antichrist that nearly ruined six months of professional organization and a very nice dinner. Did I like it?  Yes!  It was extremely cute, and I always really like outsider POV.  I did appreciate the fact that poor Alisha definitely knew something was definitely weird, but kept telling herself not to question it because a gorgeous wedding with an unlimited budget and zero issues with scheduling, catering, guest limits, etc. is a great problem to have. Was it good?  It was pretty good!  The climax and wrap-up felt a bit rushed, mostly due to the limits of outsider POV, but I did enjoy Aziraphale unexpectedly embracing his inner groomzilla while also being unfailingly sweet about it. Would I rec it?  Yup, especially if you want wedding comedy/fluff and outsider POV
Wrong Turn by anticyclone Good Omens; Aziraphale/Crowley; ~38k words; rated Teen And Up Lots and lots of somethings are wrong. First, Crowley's nearly hit by a car. Then he almost brains himself tripping over new and excessive piles of books at the bookshop. To add insult to near-injury, Aziraphale starts throwing knives at him. Safe to say his day could be going better.
The thing that's the most wrong of all is the universe, of course. In this one there was never an Arrangement. Aziraphale and Anthony (they can't both be 'Crowley') aren't friends and they certainly never agreed to prep for Armageddon. Unfortunately, the end of the world is two days away.
So that's something Crowley really has to fix before they can figure out how to get him home. Did I like it?  Oh yes.  I had read bits of this on ffa previously, and also anticyclone is a good writer (and a friend) so like, I was expecting it to be good; I was not disappointed. Was it good?  Yes!  I was particularly impressed at how much alternate backstory is set up in little hints here and there, and then explained more thoroughly in ways that take the AU Aziraphale and Crowley by surprise when they do finally get to talking. Would I rec it?  Yes!  Especially if you like a nice dose of enemies-to-lovers along with your friends-to-lovers, and also the awkwardness of meeting your alternate universe self.
Finished in January, not for reading challenges (3 books):
The Way of Kings, book 1 of The Stormlight Archive, by Brandon Sanderson Did I like it? It was fine. Was it good? I think so.  I am maybe not the best audience for epic fantasy at this point, partly because I’ve read a lot of it and partly because I habitually read 3-7 books at once at any given time. Would I recommend it? Maybe, but I feel like most of the people who would enjoy it have probably heard of it already. 3 stars
Get a Wiggle On, a Good Omens fanzine Did I like it? Yup! Was it good? Mostly, although as usual with zines and anthologies, quality varies piece by piece.   Of the fics I particularly liked “A Head Above Water,” “The Grapes of Mild Irritation,” and “Concerning the Great Serpent Glykon and the Angel Clothed With the Sun,” all of which are now available on AO3. Would I recommend it? If you like snakey Crowley, yes. 4 stars
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne Did I like it? Yes, very much!  A very silly thing I particularly liked (which unfortunately you cannot really replicate) is that the edition I have is an illustrated hardcover book from 1926 which I picked up cheap at a used bookstore, knowing I would like it because Jules Verne.  I didn’t think much about that specific date when I bought it, but I am now writing a fic set in 1926, with a character who has a habit of reading adventure novels and who I have specifically mentioned enjoyed Jules Verne in his childhood, so when I discovered the date the coincidence made me very happy.  The book itself smells very nice, it’s nice to hold, and as I was reading it I kept thinking about what Danny would think of the book, and whether he would try reading it aloud to Crowley, and wondering if the book smelled as nice in 1926 as it does now.  Maybe I will have Aziraphale give this book to him as a very small thank-you for all he has done to keep Crowley alive and well. Was it good? For the most part.  Jules Verne is prone to wandering off on tangents where he shows you his research, but I’m sympathetic to that, and there’s some really cool and atmospheric scenes in this book.  My favorite character was definitely Captain Nemo, who we don’t really learn much about.  Could have done without Conseil, the bland servant character who could be a naturalist in his own right, if he had any opinions of his own, or the period racism/imperialism, which unfortunately is so built into this kind of adventure novel.  But the environmentalism was a nice surprise, and you can definitely read some critiques of certain aspects of (Western?) culture at the time into Captain Nemo’s behavior; I have not yet read The Mysterious Island where Captain Nemo also appears, but I do get the impression a lot of people read him as being disgusted with imperialism. Would I recommend it?  Probably!  With the caveats above.  It was a good adventure story with some awesome visuals, and I kept thinking about what a pretty movie it would make with modern SFX, and how sad I would be that they would inevitably not spend just 3 solid hours on cool fish and interiors of the Nautilus and scenes of the lost city of Atlantis and Captain Nemo being very mysterious and dreamy scary, because they’d probably shoehorn an awkward romance into it. 4 stars
Finished in February, not for reading challenges (2 books):
The Deception of the Emerald Ring by Lauren Willig, book 3 of the Pink Carnation series Did I like it? I did.  It was a silly Regency romance novel with espionage elements, it is the third of a series I have enjoyed, and it contained an accidental/forced marriage to preserve a lady’s honor despite neither party to the marriage particularly liking or wanting to have anything to do with each other, and some misunderstandings about that.  Also spies. Was it good?  Not really.  It was fun and I liked the characters, but I don’t think the writing was of particularly high quality.  The handling of certain elements of English imperialism was not great, and bothered me enough to note it in my review on Goodreads. Would I recommend it? I’d recommend the series if it sounds like something you’d like; I might not recommend this specific book. 3 stars
The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley Did I like it?  No.  It was very dark, and I did not enjoy most of the book.  A lot of it was because it was very gritty and grim, and because I frequently don’t enjoy military fiction; a lot of it was because many of the dystopian aspects of our present reality that came to a head in 2020 were magnified in the book.  Part of it was also that the protagonist’s entire reality and memory was being denied for much of the book, and I think it reminded me of being gaslit.  (This is not a criticism of the book, or some kind of weird accusation that the book or its author was somehow abusing me, I just have this personal history.  In fact, it turns out the main character is being gaslit to some extent, and the author writes it very well.)  It was a minor relief when she finally decided the stuff she was going through was real, and a huge relief when she was able to talk to someone who believed her. Was it good?  Yes, I think so. Would I recommend it?  Not right now, but I think this would be a good book to read at a time when the world feels more stable.  I don’t say this because I want you to wait until everything’s fine to read it; I say this because it feels like a good anti-complacency read. 4 stars (3 for not being an enjoyable read, 5 for the actual plot; it averages out.)
In progress, not for reading challenges (1 book):
Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by 墨香铜臭
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itswildwinters · 4 years
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what are you most excited about after your blffs?
Hii anon! Thank you for your question <3
Hmm regarding fanfics you mean? My two other blffs come out in January but I’ve practically already finished them (the last one isn’t completed but she’s on her way to!) so I’m really looking forward to posting two fics in December; the mermaid/siren AU, as well as an Anne of Green Gables inspired AU.
I’ve also signed up to the 1D Big Bang fest! And for this one, I want to do a Sleeping Beauty AU <3 I’ve wanted to write a Disney/fantasy AU in ages so I thought this would be a great opportunity! And with artists signing up alongside writers I think this would make for some gorgeous arts.
I know that in January and throughout 2021, even more fics will be coming out; I have several WIPs to finish including a Blue My Mind AU (the movie is amazing defo recommend it!!).
I’ve also been looking into blff prompts that haven’t been written; I’d like to write some outside the fest! Still trying to choose only two (I ended up with 10+ prompts lord help me!)
Summary; my current wip lists include:
• a mermaid/siren AU
• a Fantasic Beast AU
• Anne of Green Gables AU
• Sleeping Beauty AU
• Blue My Mind AU
• A zombie AU (this one will take so long to complete because there’s a lot of world building because I’m creating the universe from scratch)
• a vampire/witch, Murder Mystery AU (also a lot of world building)
• a Suffragette A/B/O AU (really excited for that one)
• an unrequited soulmate AU
I have some other ideas of fics I would like to write, including an Inception inspired AU, a fic inspired by the tv-shows Vikings, and at last a The Witcher AU!
I have so many ideas in my head that I probably forgot some and I’ll think about them again later (I really should start organising!!) but methinks that’s about it for now!
I’m so excited for all of them!! Like genuinely can’t wait to put them out!!
Thank you again for your question ✨
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forgottowrite · 4 years
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꧁𝑁𝑒𝑤𝑡 𝑆𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟꧂
𝙿𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝑇𝑒𝑒𝑛!𝑁𝑒𝑤𝑡 𝑆𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑆𝑙𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 1414
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐴𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡. 𝑀𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 :)
𝐴/𝑁: 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 @sai-kida134!!♥️ 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑟... 𝐴𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 (𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑠... 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡...)
𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦!🤗
[Part 2]
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You just moved to the UK. Left all your friends and your school behind to move to a completely new country. Your father got a new job opportunity and didn’t hold back.
Quite luckily, you got into a new school. You knew it; well, at least you heard of it. Hogwarts.
While the other students were right in the middle of their fifth year, you just happen to have your sorting ceremony. You were told that it’s actually quite a massive event right at the beginning of the first year Hogwarts students attend. But as you just bumped into the school just yet, your ceremony takes it’s place now. There were only the teachers as well as the prefects of every house.
You heard the names before.
Gryffindor, which gets called as brave, daring, chivalrous and courageous.
Slytherin, which has traits like being cunning, ambitious, determined and has the quality of leadership.
Hufflepuff, which students carry loyalty, kindness, honesty and friendship.
And Ravenclaw, which are praised for their intelligence, wisdom, creativity and originality.
If you were really honest, you couldn’t think of a house in which you would fit in.
“Y/N. Would you mind coming up here and sitting on that chair?” says McGonagall.
Before you stood up in your black robe, you gazed at the ceiling and were fascinated by all the candles. Finally you made your way up to the chair. McGonagall lifted up a hat “This is the sorting hat. It’ll decide in which house you will be going.”
You just nodded and sat down on the chair as the hat was placed on your head carefully. Your eyes wandered from one prefect to the other. Neither of them was smiling. Just the girl from Hufflepuff had a small smile on her face which calmed you down a bit.
Newt POV
“Oooooh… quite a tricky one!” Newt was just passing the great hall when he heard the voice of the sorting hat. He walked by the massive doors but had to stop his way.
“No chance you could be a Hufflepuff! That’s for sure…” the hat says and Newt got curious. He made his way back to the doors and peeked inside the great hall.
When he saw you, he was stunned. Your y/h/c hair was glistening in the light. Your y/s/c was beautiful and he couldn’t stop admiring you. He wished he could see your eyes, your face in general… he wished. He wanted to hear your voice and if it fits your appearance.
“Plain as day!” the sorting hat said very loudly “you belong in Slytherin!”
Newt quickly closed the door as McGonagall was looking in his direction. He made his way to the Hufflepuff common room while his mind was running with questions. Why did you get your sorting just now? Did you just start here? And if so, where did you come from? And why were you here? Did you got expelled from another school and Hogwarts was kind enough to give you another chance? Also, what qualities do you have to be sorted into Slytherin?
Newt finally got into the common room and took a seat in front of the fireplace.
Your POV
You followed McGonagall's eyes as she looked at the boy in the green/black robe. He wasn’t happy, you could tell. His hair was nearly white and you asked yourself if he ever allowed himself to smile just a bit.
You got your robe and were asked to change into this instead of the plain black one.
“The prefect of your house will introduce you to the other students of your house. Just follow him to the common room and everything else will take place tomorrow. You may leave now.” McGonagall said, and the boy with the white blond hair touched you harshly on your back and pushed you towards the huge doors.
***
When you got into the common room and met your fellow students, you weren’t embraced by joy. Everyone just literally scanned your body, maybe nodded their head into your direction but continued with what they were doing before. Nobody cared for anything about you. You hoped that at least you would connect with the other students in your bedroom. But this wasn’t the case.
A month passed by and you weren’t able to make friends with anyone. You got some people to which you talk to on occasion but that’s really it.
You shared three classes with a boy which got auburn locks and green eyes. His freckles were splattered all over his face and his hair would always hide his forehead. He’s wearing a black/ yellow robe which means that he has to be in Hufflepuff. From time to time, you noticed his eyes laying on your frame. But whenever you catched him doing that, he turns his head away from you and always tries to hide his face desperately.
Once you got paired up in Potions to work together with him. He wasn’t talking much. Whenever you said something, he either looked somewhere else or looked you in the eyes for a short amount of time, quickly blinking away again but smiling shyly.
Somehow, you grew fond of him and wanted to know more about him. And as it seems, he had the same interest.
Once you were paired up again in Potions, he took a deep breath and said “Please tell me to mind my own business when I’m crossing a- a line here… but ho- how does it come that none of your fellow Slytherin students are talking t… with you?” The boy was still doing the project while speaking.
Somehow, your eyebrows raised slightly. You never heard so many words from him at once.
You looked at his side profile, his hands, and back to his face again “I don’t know. I guess I’m not really able to connect with them. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t here right from the beginning.”
“W- Would be sad. The houses actually always stick to- together” he said while cutting something.
“You’re a Hufflepuff, right?” you ask him.
He nods.
“Not to be rude or anything, but it always comes to me that your house gets stated as weak and anxious. Is that true?“
The boy furrowed his eyebrows quickly. His freckled hands wander to the kettle “Erm… I don’t see my house as weak or anxious. We often get called out as soft bu- but I can’t explain why that would be a bad thing… do you… nevermi-“
“I get it”, you interrupt him while smiling softly. He looks into your eyes, just for a second, before turning to the kettle again.
“I’m Newt by the way. Actually Newton Scamander, but Newt is doing ju- just fine.”
“Alright Newt”, you chuckle, “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.“
After that, you and Newt hung out with each other whenever you got some spare time. He talked a lot about the creatures he already tried to study, and showed you a tree where Bowtruckles would have their habitat. You were amazed how the small green creature would climb onto Newts hand as if it’s something that would happen everyday.
“Why does he trust you so much? If I look at the figure, it appears extremely reserved…” you say.
Newt’s eyes glisten as he observes the small green guy which dances around on the back of his hand “They know me. Otherwise they would hide or would try to protect the tree. They live in trees which have wand quality wood. But as they know I’m not here to hurt them or the tree, I- I’m something like a friend to them… does… does that make sense to you?” His eyes shoot up for a short amount of time before looking at the small guy again.
You nodded and just admired him. You knew that your look was soft but you really couldn’t care less about it. Love isn’t something you give away easily, but when it comes to Newt, you just couldn’t help yourself.
“Do you want to… I don’t know, erm, hold it?” Newt asks as he comes closer to you and takes your right hand into his as the small guy is sitting on Newt‘s left one.
You don’t know what came over you, but you grabbed Newt by his robe, and pressed your lips against his.
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allthenobodyppl · 4 years
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Fanfic - Every Night I Burn
Originally a smutty oneshot named “Dennis’ Proclivity” but I was inspired to turn it into a full-fledged story and changed the title to better fit the new chapters, as it is no longer just about Dennis’ proclivity. Chapter 4 has been posted!
Title: Every Night I Burn
Fandom: Split (2016 film) and Glass (2019 film), starring James McAvoy.
Rating: Explicit Smut
Relationship: Dennis/Casey
Other Characters: Patricia, Hedwig, Dr. Fletcher.
This takes place during and after Split. After Dennis has captured Casey, Claire, and Marcia, he becomes fixated on Casey. It started out as fantasizing about what he wanted to do to her, but then it became more than that. It was no longer enough to just fantasize about her; he wanted her. His feelings for Casey are just enough to make him question the morality of Beast’s revolution.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534350
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The Desert
This is an ask that I’ve had in my messages for FAR TOO long...but here it finally is! It’s a rough continuation of this fic.
“please part two part two of your 66 - that's something a Griffindor would do where newt and the reader are in the desert? please?” @izadorablog
Word Count: 1312
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Uncharted Desert, Turkey (3:53 pm)
“This creature is called a Dunswiller…” Newt lectures as you two walk, swaying awkwardly as you make your way through the desert.
“They’re not dangerous at all, or so I’ve heard. Dunswillers are generally found in the eastern deserts, about...yay big?”. You look up from your notebook to watch as he brings his hand up to the crease of his bow tie.
“So not too intimidating of a fellow...even though they are said to resemble Kneazles very closely, which are far more deadly. They’re not incredibly fond of the sand, it’s too coarse for their sensitive paws...anyway! The Dunswiller should look more sleek anyway, like an Indian tiger…” You stare blankly back at Newt, realizing how absolutely lost you were listening to his voice.
It wasn’t until recently that you realized you were in love with your partner. You remember wanting to hit yourself for letting your guard down so easily, and now, it’s interfered with your work.
Like, for example, when the baby Nifflers escaped and ran loose in the apartment. Instead of helping him chase them down, you were too distracted watching Newt run around the house like a mad man over some baby creatures. It was absolutely adorable. He then brought down the chandelier moments later.
Not to mention the time that Newt was trying to feed the Erumpent, and you were so entertained by Newt’s foolish dance, you accidentally kicked over a bucket, sending the beast into a frenzy and almost tearing apart the enclosure. You had to apologize profusely for having to make Newt calm it down all over again.
And now, here he was, adorably rambling on about some important information while you were just thinking about how his hair reflected the light like an angel.  
“Are you getting all of this Y/N? Y-you’re not writing any of it down.” You’re reluctantly brought back to reality.
“Huh? Oh, yes! I was just waiting for you to finish your description so I could produce a rough...pre-sketch!”
Newt’s eyes flickered down to your blank notepad, then back up to you.
“I finished my description about 30 seconds ago…you’ve been staring at me without saying a word. Is everything alright, are you feeling well?” his eyebrows furrow with concern, and he brings a hand up to your forehead to check your temperature.
“I feel fine...it must be the heat” you chuckle, removing his hand from your face.
You lingered as you let it go.
“Well hopefully we won’t be here too much longer. I plan on getting a quick look at the beast for your sketch, test a couple reactions to the plants I bought, then we can go back to Ankara”
“Good plan” you give him a meek ‘thumbs up’, turning away shortly after to curse yourself for such a lame action.
Some time later, after Newt had dropped a few more ‘fun facts’ about the Dunswiller, he suddenly stops, halting you in your tracks.
“Shhh...I think I can hear it.” You stop and open your ears, listening for any kind of sound at all. You couldn’t hear a thing.
“It’s here somewhere...it must be in the sand” With that, Newt leaps to the ground, pressing his ear against the sand. “It usually tries to camouflage itself underneath a thin layer of sand...which is why it’s been able to live in peace from hunters for so many years.”
Again, you heard silence. Although, Newt looked so funny with his rear stuck in the air and face in the sand that you ought to let it go on for just a few more minutes.
You were about to lift him up by the suspenders when all of a sudden, a sand dune in the distance caught your eye. It was...moving?
Newt seemed to notice it too, because he immediately threw off his jacket and equipped a large cucumber-looking plant, raising it like a weapon. “Y/N, get your notebook out...I’m going to try to lure it here with this zucchini”  
“Aye aye!” you ready your notebook and quill, making sure to stay absolutely still.
Newt carefully approached the sand dune, making shushing noises in order to not scare the creature. Once he was close enough, he slowly removed his wand, whispering the words “Revelio”.
That was when things sprung into action.
Once the sand was lifted, what must’ve been a creature twice the size of Newt leaped into the air, filling the air with a screech so loud you had to toss your notebook to the floor to shield your ears.
Whatever that thing was...it was no fuzzy Dubswiller. This, was a Chimaera. The beast was massive, with a lion’s body, a goat’s head arising from its back, and a snake at the end of its tail. You’ve only ever heard of these creatures in stories
Before you could even comprehend what was happening, it lunged for Newt, gnashing its teeth threateningly and pinning him to the floor.
“Newt!” you scream, but he was too busy protecting his face from the large, sharp teeth of the Chimaera. You had to get its attention away from Newt...but how?
Your eyes fell to Newt’s discarded jacket, a few more vegetables spilling from the pocket. 
You don’t know why, you don’t think you’ll ever know why, but you grab one of the zucchinis, and break into a sprint.
“This is such a bad idea!” You yell as some pathetic battle cry. Then, you collect all of your focus and strength, and you launch it at the beast as hard as you can.
To your surprise, you land an perfect hit, effectively bringing the beast’s attention away from Newt.
And now...on you.
“Shit”
“Y/N THE CASE!” Newt screams with full alarm in his voice. You spare a glance at the boy on the ground, whose entire whole face is riddled with panic, before you whip your head around. Where is that stupid case?!
Finally, you spotted it. It lay about 20 feet away from where you stood, you could make it if you ran.
If you ran like hell, at least.
The footsteps of the beast get louder in your ear as you break into a run. Once you approach the case, you fall to your knees, fiddling with the latches with shaking hands.
“Cmon...cmon!”
“Y/N WATCH OUT!” and then, magically, the case clicked open.
You whip around, holding it straight out in front of you to catch the chaimera. The beast was warped into the case, shrinking as it squeezed through its opening. 
Once the beast was finally captured, Newt scrambled to you, shutting the case and closing the latches.
You stare at Newt with wide eyes. Both of you looked a mess, faces covered in sand, sweat, and fear.
It could’ve been the adrenaline, high emotion, or mix of both, but when you opened your mouth to speak, Newt pulled you close, silencing you with a desperate kiss.
You were frozen at first, but eventually, you loosened up and began to kiss him back.
It was like fireworks had gone off in your head. You had imagined your first kiss many times, but none of your fantasies compared to Newt, hair a mess, and buttons undone, holding your face and kissing you over his case of magical creatures.
He eventually pulled away, and you panicked for a moment he might try to take it back.
“Newt I-”
“You saved me…” he trails off, eyes flickering to and from your lips.
“Well” You let out a sigh of relief. “Then it looks like you owe me one.”
“(Y/N)-” But you cut him off before he can say another word, gripping his shoulders and pulling him back into another kiss.
You lie with Newt in the sand and try not to think about the brush with death you experienced only moments ago.
Sure,  the mission was officially a failure.
But you couldn’t be happier with how things ended.
There it is! It was pretty tough since action isn’t really my strong suit. Hope you enjoyed! What should I work on next?
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