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bluebellhairpin · 52 minutes
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Sitting here in the dark sobbing SOBBING because someone said Gomez and Morticia would adopt and love the eraserhead baby.
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bluebellhairpin · 6 hours
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can i request something fluffy for butcher? maybe where he lets reader get away with things he doesn’t let the others get away with bc he has a soft spot for her??? love your blog! <33
hey excuse me this is i think the cutest idea EVER let me see what i can do thank you millions for this
There's nowhere in the world as comfortable as Butcher's arms. The sofa envelopes you both, surprisingly soft given that you are not in the lap of luxury. His chest is solid beneath your cheek, arm wrapped around you tightly.
At first, you'd been figuring out tomorrow's action plan, but eventually, the timbre of Butcher's voice reminds you that keeping your eyes open feels like an impossible task. The vibrations of his chest, along with his absentminded strokes over your head lull you to sleep.
"Then the little bugger won't 'ave a chance," he says with a spark of certainty, but the smile falls from his face when he notices your closed eyes and steady breathing. He radiates heat, but it's not uncomfortable. Rather, it is cosy, welcoming, kind. All the things he does not claim to be.
He carefully stretches his hand out to the side, fingertips brushing against his coat. He grasps the hem and tugs it towards the two of you, until it covers you completely. He doesn't mind only being half covered.
There's a soft smile on his face that he's unaware of, until Frenchie enters his peripheral with a delighted smile on his face. He meets Butcher's eyes, which immediately harden, and he sticks up his middle finger.
Frenchie snorts and half skips away, endeared by the big, scary William Butcher.
-
The next day, Frenchie celebrates his entrance, holding up two paper bags, one with a splodge of grease painted in the corner. Kimiko smiles brightly, Marvin swoops in to collect the bags and from the corner of the sofa you patiently wait for him to pass out everyone's orders. Hughie first, then Kimiko, Frenchie, himself and two lots to Butcher.
Butcher sits in the middle of the sofa, and passes you your food, before opening his. You haven't had your favourite for a while, and thank Frenchie for passing by two places for the food run.
Even though you're content with your favourite, the smell of Butcher's waffle fries wafts in your direction, and your eyes linger on the box in his hands.
Shifting onto your knees, you shuffle forwards, bracing a hand on his shoulder and reaching for a fry. His eyes follow you as you pop it into your mouth, and he tips the box towards you to offer you another one. He has a lopsided smile and you nab another before he can rescind his silent offer. A barely audible gasp attracts both you and Butcher's attention to the rest of the group.
Frenchie still wears his heart eyes smile, Hughie's jaw is slack, Kimiko looks on happily and Marvin's expression is unreadable. "What if I want a fry?" Marvin says, looking longingly at the box. Butcher leans back, taking you with him and the box further out of Marvin's reach. "Sorry mate, gotta get your own," he shrugs. "Yeah, I thought you were all weird about sharing your food," Hughie says. "I think it's cute," Frenchie says.
"Alright, fuck off, you lot. No more questions," he says, two fries trapped between his fingers.
-
There's a silent competition as the group approaches Butcher's car. Everyone riding in the backseat in this heat is absorbed into a sweaty, uncomfortable lump. You're not doing that again.
"Shotgun!" "Shotgun!" It may be a little childish, but you're disappointed when Hughie gets there before you.
Butcher strides to the drivers seat, gesturing to you with his keys, "You're up front."
You're surprised, and a little guilty, but the heat is warping your brain, and you're not going to pass up the opportunity to sit next to the car's air conditioning.
"What?!" Hughie says, incredulous. "You heard me. The rest of you twats are like worms in me ear." Butcher disappears under the roof of the car. Frenchie laughs knowingly, and pats Hughie on the shoulder. "Relax, Petit Hughie. Monsieur Charcuter has a crush."
Heat pools in your cheeks, and Butcher's door slams shut. Frenchie sends you a wink before you open the door and slide inside and onto the scorching black seats. Butcher's hand hovers over the air vents, testing the cool air, but it doesn't seem like he heard Frenchie.
Everyone else piles into the clown car of the backseat.
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The first time you do it, you almost don't want him to notice. The television broadcasts Homelander declaring that anti-supe 'terrorists' will be found and neutralised. When he looks into the camera, it's as if he's looking straight into the room, at Butcher, having had him in mind during his speech.
Your fingertips graze the hem of his coat sleeve, needing reassurance that he's still here, that even after numerous run-ins with Homelander, he's still alive.
He barely feels it at first, thinking there's a drought in the room. But then he sees you standing closer to him than usual, swaying a little on your feet. You seem to be miles away though, grounding yourself with the scratchy fibres of fabric underneath your fingers. He pretends he doesn't notice.
Eventually, your nerves cloud your decisions, and instead of rolling the hem between your fingers, you accidentally grab a fistful of the fabric. The force of it leaves him with no option but to notice, having jumped a little himself.
When he looks at you, eyebrows creased, you're worried that he'll pull away, get flighty at revealing himself as anything other than a threat. But he doesn't. Instead, he lifts his arm and places it across your shoulders for a few moments, squeezing you into his side.
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bluebellhairpin · 10 hours
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his ass is NOT getting away from the sound of the woman that loved him 😂
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bluebellhairpin · 11 hours
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men who want you to be bitchy—who poke and prod until you snap because they love it when you’re nasty and reckless and mean. they smile sharply while you snarl and hurl insults at them until you’re tired, huffing fire that fizzles out all too soon once you realize that you played right into his desires.
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bluebellhairpin · 11 hours
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Diabolical 😈
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bluebellhairpin · 14 hours
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tumblrs great. you can have 6,000 followers & only 9 of them are active/real
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bluebellhairpin · 14 hours
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me trying not to let the shit break me
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bluebellhairpin · 15 hours
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this reply kills me 😭
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bluebellhairpin · 15 hours
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I think the best way to fight this AI shit is just to support actual creators. The cat's out of the bag with AI; our data's going to be taken and used without our consent whether we like it or not, so maybe we should put efforts into holding up those who create their own stuff. Comment/interact on people's writings and art. Make it worth them posting; make it clear that what the people are interested in isn't generated stuff, but things that people have actually done themselves. It's a drop in the ocean, but showing creators that it's them that deserve the support at least serves to cut off a tiny bit of oxygen to these AI hogs - and make a difference to creatives who are trying against hope to share with a community.
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bluebellhairpin · 1 day
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Someone help me. I've never plowed through a show so fast as I have with The Boys. Almost the first two season done and its been less than a week.
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bluebellhairpin · 1 day
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untouched ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: billy hasn’t touched you for months, and you’re frustrated, so you decide to invest in some skimpy lingerie in the hopes that he won’t be able to resist
notes: YES, this is (very loosely) based on the song ‘untouched’ by the veronicas and if you haven’t heard it, it’s a bop. also, i’m so sorry for the terrible british accent writing, and i’m sorry for the fade-to-black but i was too chicken to actually write all the smut. please let me know what you think!
side note: i would die for this man (billy butcher and karl urban)
warnings: a lot of swearing, beer, very light smut, and some google translated french
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word count: 5848
You hadn’t originally planned for Frenchie to come along on your little shopping trip, it was supposed to be MM, but when he got a call from Janine, you couldn’t possibly have asked him to prioritise you over his own daughter. Hughie had offered to drive you, of course, but you decided that Frenchie was the lesser of two evils in this situation, and you refused to go alone. Lately, you weren’t the biggest fan of going anywhere alone.
“Ooh,” Frenchie coos, pulling a lacy baby doll from one of the racks and holding it up to his own body. “I think this would suit me, no?”
You roll your eyes playfully. “I think it would, why don’t you try it on?”
He giggles and throws the garment over his arm. “I think you, mon amour, would look ravishing in it.”
So here you were, in the middle of the lingerie section in one of New York City’s largest department stores, shopping for scandalous undergarments with Frenchie. You have to admit, he is a huge boost for your self-esteem, but you trusted him much less than MM to keep this little shopping trip a secret.
“What about this one?” he asks, holding up a bodysuit styled after Starlight’s costume that left even less to the imagination than her suit already did.
You scoff, “Absolutely not.”
He giggles again as he returns the bodysuit to its rack. You were doing your best to avoid anything that resembled the costume of a Supe, even if some of Queen Maeve’s designs did catch your eye. The purpose for which you were buying would definitely be negated by anything that looked like it had been produced by Vought.
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bluebellhairpin · 1 day
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i make a lot of posts to the tune of "you're allowed to be horny btw" because it's becoming increasingly clear that adults being sexual in (clearly marked and blockable!) spaces is being stamped out and made out to be evil both legislatively and in the moral zeitgeist, especially among younger folks. not even in the "wait to be a horny adult online when you're An Adult" way, just an ingrained puritanical outrage response to *anything* that isn't chaste wholesome perfect all-ages allowed. it's unnerving and scary.
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bluebellhairpin · 1 day
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hold on ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you’re the youngest member of the boys and you hate that butcher insists on calling you ‘kid’ so you show him in more ways than one that you are not a child
notes: this is very weak, but it was kind of good writing practice because i definitely don’t write a lot of action (i’m so sorry if it sucks)! as always, please let me know what you think!
warnings: a lot of swearing, google translated french, age gap (not specified, but inferred) guns, violence, a dagger, explosion, descriptions of wounding (please don’t read if any of this is triggering for you!)
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word count: 4310
Butcher is an asshole. You knew that from the moment you met him. He is rude, and brash, and impulsive to the point that made you believe he didn’t have an angel on one of his shoulders, only two antagonistic little devils. You often found yourself itching to dig your fist into his face, especially when he called you by the stupid nickname he coined the moment he met you. Kid, or The Kid, if you weren’t in the room. It vexed you beyond belief, and you knew exactly why.
Butcher is an asshole, but he’s also fucking gorgeous. He’s tall and broad, and his voice is so delicious, it often finds its way into your filthiest dreams. To say you were obsessed with the man wouldn’t be an overstatement, and it was no secret, everyone but Butcher himself knows it. You’ve wanted him from the moment you met him, but then he went ahead and called you ‘kid’ and you quickly realised that he didn’t see you as anything more than one of the boys. The youngest one of the boys.
“Are you okay, mon amour?” Frenchie asks, nudging you with his shoulder.
You look at the man sitting beside you, dressed head to toe in black with a bandolier slung across his body. The van rattles as it hits a bump, and across from you, MM casts an angry glare toward the driver’s seat.
“I’m good,” you reply, flexing your fingers around the gun laying across your lap.
You were no stranger to the weapon, having spent years training in the special forces before flunking out the minute you found out about the movement for Supes to be contracted into the military. You were furious and scared, and then you ran into an old neighbour whose mother used to be book club buddies with yours – Hughie – and the rest is history.
“Butcher’s on location,” MM says, tucking his phone back into the pocket on his vest.
“Make sure he waits,” Hughie calls from the front of the van. “It’ll take me five minutes to get eyes on the whole building, but he can’t go in blind.”
MM looks at Frenchie, “Are you sure about this?”
“Positive,” Frenchie replies, “They will not be prepared for a raid, and they will have the information we need.”
“And how many are going to be willing to give it to us?” you ask.
He grimaces, “Not many, but I do not doubt your persuasion skills, mon cherie.”
“Persuasion,” you scoff, looking down at the weapon in your lap.
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bluebellhairpin · 1 day
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bluebellhairpin · 2 days
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Just had my worst "whose your craziest 'hear me out'" tiktok. The next slide was a picture of some regular looking white guy. He's not even covered in blood and dirt.
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bluebellhairpin · 2 days
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Working on this family portrait is. Killing me. I've never drawn anything with so many people in it before.
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bluebellhairpin · 2 days
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undercover ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*
notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!
warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude
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word count: 6496
“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.
Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.
“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.
He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”
“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”
“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”
You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.
“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”
Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.
“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”
“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”
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