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#believe it or not i was having a normal evening
tofixtheshadows · 2 days
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You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.
The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.
For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.
I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.
Like, this
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is funny.
But this?
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Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.
The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.
I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:
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Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.
And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.
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roosterforme · 1 day
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The Younger Kind Part 61 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The wedding day itself wasn't all that important to Bradley. He just wanted to get to the point where you and he were officially married, and the details didn't much matter. At least that's what he thought before he saw you step out of the house. Then he realized that these were the exact moments he'd never planned for but desperately needed to experience.
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Bradley must have been able to tell that you were anxious on Friday evening. It was just a normal day, really. He went to work and dropped Noah off at preschool on the way. You used a vacation day to clean up the house a little bit with the promise that you wouldn't overexert yourself. And you made some snack trays for Saturday afternoon along with a lasagna for dinner.
But to you, it wasn't a normal day at all, because you were getting married tomorrow. Whenever you started thinking about it, you had to stop what you were doing and sit down for a few minutes. When Bradley left with Noah this morning, he kissed you goodbye like he always did, seemingly unfazed by the weekend plans. But now it was hitting you hard. You were getting married.
When the boys got home, they ran inside while Skittles barked at them. "Hi, Mommy! I painted a wedding!"
Bradley scooped Noah up with one arm before he got to you, and Noah brandished a colorful painting that looked absolutely nothing like a wedding, but you took it and exclaimed, 'It's perfect!"
"I know," he replied as you kissed him on the cheek. Then he started to squirm to the floor, and after that, Bradley's lips were on yours.
"It smells good in here," he whispered. Then he really looked at your face and asked, "Everything okay?"
You nodded and kind of half shrugged. "Yeah."
"You and the baby feeling okay?"
"Mmhmm."
He gave you a skeptical look. "We're getting married tomorrow, Baby," he murmured, holding up a cup from the coffee shop. He'd written Princess across it like he always did, and you looked up at his earnest eyes as tears filled yours. "If you've got cold feet, then I-"
"No!" you gasped, reaching for the cup and pressing your body to his. "No," you told him with all of the conviction you had. "I love you." His arm wrapped around your back, and you felt instantly better. You tried not to jostle the coffee too much as you ran your fingers along his cheek and up into his hair. "It's just hard for me to believe I was just your babysitter earlier this year."
Bradley smiled and said, "You were never just my babysitter. God, I wanted you bad. Right from the start. In my bed, and in my life."
You let your cheek rest against his shoulder as you inhaled the scent of French vanilla coffee, and Bradley traced your spine with his fingers until you shivered. "I wanted you just as bad, Daddy."
He kissed the top of your head. "Nothing's changing. You know that, right? We'll just have a little piece of paper saying we're legally married, but nothing is really going to change. We can take a honeymoon next year. We can eventually tell your parents we got married if you feel like it, or not. We can talk about combining the rest of our bank accounts if you want to. But it's still just me and you. Us and Noah and the baby."
"And Skittles."
"Obviously Skittles, too," he said, and of course the dog came running into the room.
As the kitchen timer started going off, you tried to slip out of his grasp, but he held on. "Tell me what's bothering you first."
You buried your face against his neck and inhaled deeply. Bradley smelled like home. "I'm a little nervous. I wrote my vows, and now I think they sound stupid."
"Nothing you say could sound stupid to me."
You groaned and added, "And I'm exhausted by eight o'clock every night now, and we have all these people coming over for the wedding. I look tired all the time."
"You're beautiful all the time. And I'll kick everyone out after dinner. I'm not going to want them here after that anyway."
When you laughed, Bradley started walking with you held against him. The kitchen timer was still beeping, and you didn't want dinner to burn, but you didn't want him to let go of you either. "I just want to adopt Noah and have a million more nights like this one," you whispered, still holding Bradley's hand and the coffee as he pulled the meal out of the oven.
You took a sip of your drink and it was delicious, and so were Bradley's words as he told you, "Then that's what you'll get."
So maybe it was kind of a regular night after all. You cut up Noah's dinner into bite size pieces for him, and Bradley was drawing lazy shapes on your pregnant belly with his knuckles while he ate. Then he cleaned up after he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons.
"Mommy, do you remember when we met Mickey? With Aunt Natasha?"
"I sure do," you said with a yawn. "That was the best day." Then Noah yawned, too, and it didn't take much coaxing to get him into his pajamas and into bed.
"Will you lay with me?" he asked as you tucked him in.
"Just for a minute, because I need to finish a few things for the wedding tomorrow."
You climbed into his bed, and the next thing you knew, Bradley was waking you up with a kiss. "Come on, Baby. Let's get in our bed."
You groaned and let him help you stand, and you ran your fingers through Noah's hair. "What time is it? I still need to vacuum and wash the kitchen floor."
"I already did it," he whispered as he led you out of the room.
You yawned. "I wanted to shower and shave my legs."
"Do it tomorrow. Or don't. I don't care."
"But it's our wedding day."
You let him tuck you into bed, and he slipped in next to you. "It is, Baby. Our almost-Christmas wedding since I couldn't wait until next year. And all I need is my exhausted Princess with her hairy legs for it to be fucking perfect."
You stifled your laughter as he curled up behind you, keeping you warm while you dozed off again with his big hand resting on your belly.
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When you woke up the next day, Bradley and Noah were already gone. You knew the plan was for them to get ready at Natasha's place while she joined you here to help you with your makeup, but tears stung your eyes as you walked around the empty house. You missed them already, and you wanted them to come back home so you could make Bradley your husband. You decided to take that feeling as a pretty good sign that the wedding was going to be perfect. 
The kitchen smelled good, and you found that Bradley left the fancy coffee maker on for you, but you gasped at what else you found. There was a light blue bakery box, and you opened it to find crown shaped donuts with icing that spelled out I LOVE YOU. You moaned softly and picked up the letter I donut and took a bite. You also found the bag from the jewelry shop, and you immediately remembered how sneaky he was the night you picked out the wedding bands. 
You shoved the rest of the donut into your mouth and dug inside the bag. Your eyes went wide when you pulled out a tiara. An actual tiara with some purple gemstones adorning it, like an upgraded version of your paper crown. Now you really wanted Bradley to come home so he could see it on. He probably spent a fortune on it, like he did everything else for you, but you were already imagining that it might make its way to bed later.
"It's me!"
Natasha's voice pulled you from your wedding night daydream, and you rushed into the living room where she was already wearing a simple blue dress and holding several bags. "How are my boys?" you asked.
"Great. Excited. Noah already looks adorable. I guess Bradley looks okay."
You were cracking up as she wrapped you in a hug, and that's when you realized you were wearing an old TOP GUN sweatshirt and your underwear. "I need to start getting ready."
"Yes," she replied with a smile and a quick kiss on your cheek. 
"And I really need to shave my legs."
"You should do that first."
"Yeah," you replied, laughing as you made your way to the bathroom. "I'll do that first."
Once you were clean from the shower, Natasha helped you into your new set of purple lingerie. You appreciated that she treated it like a business deal, simply saying, "Bradley will lose his mind later," instead of making a big deal about your growing belly. You were sure you'd be marrying him even if you weren't pregnant, but maybe it wouldn't be happening so soon. "Let's get your hair and makeup settled before we get your dress on. Go grab your tiara."
"You know about that?" you gasped, excitement filling you up.
"Please. I know about everything."
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Perhaps you were a little nervous last night, but now Bradley was the one who could barely handle himself. You were inside the house, but he wasn't even allowed to go in there, and it was killing him. He wanted to see you in the worst way and make sure everything was okay, but instead he and Noah were stuck on the back patio as everyone else started arriving. All he managed to get was a text from Nat with a thumbs up emoji.
"You look adorable!" Bradley turned around to see Penny kneeling in front of Noah, making a fuss over him. "You match with your dad!" It was true, because you had been the one to find the light gray suits and floral purple dress shirts. Bradley simply ordered them and got himself and Noah dressed.
He hated to say it, but the wedding wasn't that important to him. Not really. He would have done a big, overpriced ceremony if that's what you said you wanted. But this was fine as well. All he really wanted was to make it official. The Bradshaws. His family. He didn't need anything else.
As Maverick pulled him in for a hug, Bradley saw some more of his friends from work arrive. Not that he'd ever really consider Jake Seresin a friend, but after he took the seven hundred bucks in tip money, Bradley said it was fine if he wanted to stop by. You were with Bradley now, and you were never going anywhere. He'd see to that. He'd had a lot of time to come to terms with how young you are and how guys were always going to be looking and hoping. If Bradley were less confident in himself or your love, he'd have never made it this far. But here he was, waiting for you to walk outside in your wedding dress so he could take the wedding band out of his pocket and slip it on your finger. 
Nat came strolling casually through the back door as Bradley hugged Tracy and Noah played with Amelia. Bradley broke away from his lawyer who congratulated him and assured him that all of the paperwork he needed was in perfect order for today and for the adoption. When he pulled Nat aside and asked, "Is she okay?" he got an eye roll in response. 
"She's great. She ditched you and ran away with another man and his adorable son not five minutes ago." Nat smirked at his deadpan expression and said, "You need to learn how to relax. I was just coming outside to tell you that we're ready to get started, okay?"
"Yes," he replied, already scrambling to locate Noah and Skittles. "Let's fucking do that."
Bradley knew the ceremony was going to be short; you and he had designed it that way. Ten or fifteen minutes, and you'd have it in the bag. It would be a done deal. But when Natasha screamed at everyone to be quiet and Javy started playing the song Bradley asked him to, it all felt very real. The music was just the right volume, flowing through the speakers as Bradley held Noah and Skittles in his arms, and it washed over him when he finally saw you. His favorite song, the one you knew immediately back in your babysitter days, had him remembering the way he fell for you. How you picked on him in the best way about all the old music he loved. The way this song made him think only of you ever since he heard you singing it in his kitchen.
And now you were stepping out of his house wearing a wedding dress and the tiara he picked out for you. Your glossy lips only made your smile brighter as you walked across the deck, purple shoes peeping out from the bottom of your dress. It wasn't a long walk along the path to where he was standing, and he'd remember every step you took for the rest of his life. 
He grunted softly as he noticed the way your dress was snug enough to hug your bump like you were showing it off, allowing everyone to see what he'd done to you. He knew that the bouquet of purple wildflowers you held in one hand smelled as sweet as you always did, and you waved your fingers at him as you got closer. 
"Hi, Daddy," you said with a smile just for him, and he rushed forward a few steps, closing the gap to get to you sooner.
"Princess," he whispered, leaning down to kiss you while Nat balked behind him.
"You're already doing everything out of order!" she said. "The kiss is literally supposed to be the last thing!"
You just laughed and kissed him again before also pressing your lips to Noah's cheek and patting Skittles on her purple bow. "It's okay, Natasha," you told her as you wrapped your free hand around Bradley's bicep and guided him to where she was standing. The song faded away, but you remained next to him as you smiled and said, "It doesn't really matter what order we do this in just as long as I end up married to Bradley."
"Okay, fine," Nat said, opening her notebook in a huff as Bradley set his son and his dog down. Skittles ran off toward Amelia, and Noah stood with his arm around your thigh looking up at you. As you ran your fingers through his son's curls, Bradley leaned in to kiss you again. "Stop kissing. Seriously. Or there won't be a big climax at the end."
The guys all hooted with laughter at what Nat said, including Bradley. "I don't think that will be a problem," you said, lacing your fingers with his.
"It certainly won't be," he whispered. "You gonna keep that tiara on all night?"
You looked a little bashful, but you said, "Of course, I'm a Princess."
When he tried to kiss you again, Nat started snapping her fingers in his face. "Enough. I need to read all of this shit that I wrote down so you can get married, okay? Just stand there for a minute, and keep it in your pants."
You were laughing now as you said, "This is already the best wedding I've ever heard of."
Nat cleared her throat and started reading from her notebook. "Hi everyone. You all know me, and you all know these two idiots who decided they wanted to marry each other, so I'll make this quick. Bradley Bradshaw is my very best friend, and I don't even know why. He's not particularly funny, nor is he the wittiest guy around, and he absolutely can't cook anything."
"Jesus," Bradley said. "Why did I ask you to officiate?"
She chuckled and said, "Because I also have a couple nice things to say about you.... Bradley is a lost cause in many ways, but he's loyal, and he has a cute son. Hi, Noah."
"Hi, Aunt Natasha."
Bradley was shaking his head as you squeezed his hand, and he gave Nat the signal to keep going. "Right, well, here's the other thing about Bradley: he's been there for me for a long time, so any time he needs something, I'm always going to help him. It was easy to see that he was lonely and ready to start dating again at the beginning of this year, and when he said he was falling in love with his babysitter instead of the women he was meeting from the dating app, I told him to go for it. I'd never seen him happier than he was on the days when he got to see you," Nat said, smiling at you.
"Really?" you asked, looking at her before looking up at Bradley in wonder.
"Really," he and Nat said at the same time, and he had to fight the urge to kiss you again. Instead, he ran his fingers along your cheek and didn't take his eyes off you as he asked, "Nat, can I say my vows now?"
You kissed Bradley's thumb as Natasha said, "Clearly you're just going to do whatever you want, so go right ahead."
"Great," he whispered. He had everything he wanted to say written down on a note card in his pocket, but he didn't really need it. With Noah standing in between the two of you, he knew he had everything he needed right here with him. "You still never told me how you did it, Princess."
You looked up at him as he held your hand, a puzzled look on your face. "How I did what?"
He ran his thumb in slow circles along the back of your hand and said, "How you walked into my crumbling life and made everything better."
Your lips twitched as tears filled your eyes, but you were smiling as you said, "There was nothing to fix, really. You and Noah just made me fall in love with you." 
"Mommy, I'm hungry," Noah whispered, tugging gently on your dress as Bradley tried to contain his own tears.
"I know," you told him with a watery laugh. "I made you a snack tray, but you need to let Daddy finish talking first."
"See, Baby? We are pure chaos," Bradley told you, reaching down to scoop Noah up again. "We were so much worse before you, though. Thank you for falling in love with us. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for being more patient than anyone else I've ever known. Thank you for taking care of us, and for letting us take care of you. All I want is to be with you forever. The four of us," he said, his knuckles grazing your belly. "It's perfect, really. But I can't promise we will ever be less chaotic. All I know for sure is that I'm always going to love and appreciate you. And that it was worth going through all the bad stuff to get to this point. You were the missing piece. You were always the missing piece that we needed."
You nearly dropped your bouquet of flowers as you threw your arm around his neck and snuggled in against Noah. "I love you both so much," you sniffed. "And I don't even think you're chaotic at all. Being around you is the calmest I've ever felt. Like I know you'll protect me and make sure I'm comfortable. I started falling in love as soon as I met you both, and I keep falling in love a little bit more all the time. And I will never take this for granted, because I never expected anything this good to happen to me."
"I'm still hungry," Noah whispered loudly, clearly concerned everyone had forgotten about him. 
"I know, sweet Noah," you said as you laughed and cried at the same time. "And I'm going to take care of you forever, okay?"
Bradley watched you kiss his forehead as Noah said, "I got you a coloring book. It's Princesses."
"Of course you did," you told him as your voice cracked. "You're the best." You were crying more now, but you looked so happy. 
Even Nat was wiping at her eyes as she said, "Are we ready for the rings then?" When you both nodded at her, she pulled Bradley's wedding band out of her dress pocket and handed it to you. "Just put them on each other. Oh my God, I didn't think I would cry." 
Javy handed Nat his handkerchief as you took Bradley's hand in your smaller one and slid the thick band into place. Then he kept his eyes on yours as he and Noah did the same with your diamond wedding band. You let your hand slide up Bradley's arm and settle on his chest. Your eyes were focused on his, and the purple gems in your tiara were catching the sunlight. You were flawless. You were his wife. Almost.
"Nat?" he asked, covering your hand with his own and pressing it against his heart. "Are we married?"
"Oh, right," his best friend replied as you laughed softly and bit your glossy lip. "Yeah, according to me and the state of California, you're married. You already kissed and messed that entire part up, but you can kiss again, I suppose."
He handed Noah to her, and your lips came crashing to his as he wrapped one arm around you. This other hand settled against the side of your belly where the baby was growing, and he heard everyone cheering in the backyard. You were right, this was the best wedding he'd ever heard of as well. "I love you, Princess," he murmured against your lips, the sweet smell of wildflowers everywhere as you deepened the kiss again.
Then you pulled away and whispered, "I'll love you forever, Daddy."
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With two rings on your finger and your husband standing behind you, kissing your neck to the point of distraction, you tried to pull Noah's tray of ants on logs out of the refrigerator. "Daddy!" you gasped when his hand slid up from your belly to your breasts which did look pretty great in your wedding dress.
"Hmm," he hummed, giving you a little squeeze. When you whimpered softly he made a suggestion that you almost agreed to. "Let's sneak off to our bedroom for a few minutes. I want to play with my wife."
That word made you giddy, and you could feel every inch of Bradley's strong body pressed against yours. When you glanced outside, you saw your handful of wedding guests, dancing and playing with Noah. It was very tempting. Nobody would miss you, but everyone would know where the two of you went and why. "How much longer until you can kick everyone out?" you asked softly. 
You felt him shrug behind you as he said, "The caterers will be here shortly, so probably about two hours before I can demand everyone leaves."
"Damn it," you said, pulling the snacks out of the fridge and unwrapping them. "I just want to take you and a slice of wedding cake to bed." You thought back to Noah's birthday party and the horny kitchen sex with the leftover cake.
"I'll feed it to you, and then I'll fuck you so good," he crooned, and you were about to tell him to send everyone home now when dinner and the cake arrived.
"Mommy!" Noah shouted through the back door, apparently no longer worried about his healthy snack since the sweets arrived. "Come look at the cake I picked out!"
You turned around in Bradley's arms, and he looked delighted to be presented with your baby bump. "You let Noah pick out the wedding cake?"
He winced in response as he ran his hand along your belly. "Yeah... about that. I'm really sorry."
You grabbed his left hand, his wedding band smooth against your skin where his fingers were usually a little rough, and you pulled him back outside with Noah's snack. "I don't know if I should be scared or-" You gasped when you saw it. "Oh my god, Bradley. It's perfect!"
The cake had two tiers. The bottom was decorated with white buttercream and a bunch of green and brown dinosaurs. The detail was amazing. There was even a volcano. The top tier was decorated with purple flowers and topped with a knight holding hands with a princess that looked a lot like you. The two layers looked pretty ridiculous together, but it was beautiful.
"I love it!" you squealed, making sure Amelia took some pictures of it for you. Actually, everyone had been doing a pretty great job of capturing the afternoon on camera. After dinner, when you cut into the cake and fed a bit to Bradley, Nat took a video of you smearing some of the purple icing all over his lips and mustache. He looked startled as you started laughing before kissing him. 
"You'll pay for that later," he promised, holding you close while someone queued up his favorite song again for you both to dance to. But he wasn't complaining when your mouth was on his for most of the song, tasting all of the sweetness on his lips. 
The afternoon was kind of crazy, and Bradley held onto you the whole time, only releasing you so you could dance with Mav and then Javy. And then all it took was one yawn out of you, and your husband was clearing everyone out of the backyard. Noah was all pumped up with too much sugar, but luckily he was going home with Penny and Amelia for the night. And lucky for you, your husband was as sweet as the wedding cake.
"Let me help you out of your dress," he whispered, setting butterflies off in your belly as he carried you inside the kitchen. "And I'll get your tiara out of your hair so you can get some rest."
"But I don't want to rest," you said, licking at a bit of icing that still clung to his mustache. "I want my husband."
He paused in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed as you dragged your fingers through his hair. "Say it again, Baby."
"Husband," you whispered, kissing the prickly stubble on his jaw. "Please?"
Bradley just grunted in response, slid the door shut with his foot, and carried you all the way to bed. Once he had you spread out, you watched him make quick work of removing his suit coat and purple shirt. "Did you pick out this dress on purpose because of the way it shows off your bump?" he asked, kicking off his shoes. "That sounds like the kind of thing my wife would do to make me go insane for her."
"Maybe." You felt silly there in your tiara and high heels, but oh... the way he was looking at you. Bradley climbed into bed where you were being careful not to put your feet on the bedding, but you didn't need to worry for long. He took your ankles in his hands and placed them over his shoulders, stroking his hands up and down your thighs.
"Tell me what you want to do instead of resting, Princess."
The fabric of your dress was bunching up around your hips, and you knew the moment he saw your purple lingerie, because his knuckles connected with your core through the lace as you moaned, "I want my Daddy."
Bradley kissed the inside of your knee and caressed your thigh until you shivered. "Want me to do what?" he crooned, leaning down to kiss your lips. You could still taste the icing from the wedding cake when you ran your tongue along his mustache, and even though you knew what you wanted, you still felt shy asking for it. 
When Bradley reached back to gently take your shoes off and toss them aside, you whimpered his name. He worked the zipper down the side of your dress and helped you shimmy out of it, and then you had your legs spread before him in just your tiara and purple lingerie. He looked sinful in his suit pants with his erection bulging and his wedding band on his finger as he said, "You're my wife. You get anything you want. Especially when you're wearing this."
You coaxed him closer so he was on top of you, and his length was resting on your core as you whispered, "I want you to make me squirt."
He groaned as he got to work like it was absolutely at the top of the list of things he wanted, too. "My pleasure, Mrs. Bradshaw," he murmured against your lips, and you were already clenching as soon as his fingers tucked inside the front of your underwear.
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Bradley let you be as loud as you wanted. In fact, he was trying his damndest to get you louder and louder. You were his wife now, and Noah was gone for the night. Skittles seemed to have retreated to the kitchen for some solace as Bradley buried his face in your ass and pussy, legs spread open wide and shaking. 
You cried out, "Daddy," over and over again as he changed his tempo from luxuriously slow to rough and fast. You wanted to squirt? Well he wanted you to soak the fucking bedding until you were crying. Every time he looked up at your face, he saw the swell of your growing belly, and he couldn't stop himself from grinding his cock against the bedding. 
"Fuck," he growled, watching the rings on your fingers as you grasped at the pillow beneath your head. He could tell you were getting close as he brought you to the edge and then let his pace slowly fade away one more time, and when he slipped two gentle fingers inside you while sucking on your clit, you screamed his name. You soaked his face and hand, and he was afraid he was going to cum in his suit pants as your thighs clamped around his head, riding him through your orgasm.
"Oh my god, oh my god," you panted, sitting up in a bit of a daze even as your legs went limp. Your tiara was crooked, and your makeup was smeared, and Bradley couldn't get enough of the sight of his sated, pregnant Princess. Your eyes met his, and you smiled through your daze, sitting there on the wet bedding with your left hand resting on your belly. Meanwhile Bradley was a different kind of mess, trying to get his zipper down and alleviate his aching cock.
"Let me help you," you whispered, putting your hands on his wet ones before taking over for him. "Want me to go down on you?"
Bradley shook his head as you eased his pants and underwear down his legs and took his cock in your hand. "Baby, I want to fuck you. It's our wedding night, and I want to be inside you."
A soft yet determined look settled on your face, and somehow he ended up sitting in the wet spot with you straddling his hips. You didn't seem to care that his forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat and that he wasn't going to last very long. You just sank down around him, rocking gently as he whispered, "I don't want to hurt you. Either of you."
"I know," you replied, kissing him and brushing his hair back from his face. "I know, Daddy." He came with you just like that, your lips and hands gentler on his body than any touch he'd ever known before you. Your voice as soothing as his favorite song. It was no wonder he was so in love with you. It was no wonder he and his son couldn't live without you.
After he got you cleaned up and carefully removed your tiara, you fell asleep in his arms as he reminded you that in a few days, you and he would be finding out the sex of the baby after you adopted Noah.
"You're already the best wife and Mommy. I can't wait for number two."
"I love you."
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It's official! Bradley married his babysitter! Noah is on his way to officially having Princess as his Mommy, and we will learn more about the baby so soon! Two parts of this series left! Thanks for reading and interacting and making this so much fun to write! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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myojinn-boo · 21 hours
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You'll Be Safe Here - Sukuna Ryomen
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You'll Be Safe Here ... Oneshot fanfic Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x reader tags: Heian Era!Sukuna, soft!Sukuna, fluffy fluff, bit of angst, hurt to comfort summary: Sukuna never knew he was lonely until he met you—until you made him feel that the way he lived before was empty. Now that you're bloodied and beaten, there was no way he'd let you slip away from him. He'll always protect his love. a/n: I'm a sucker for soft!Sukuna. Also this song just inspired me SO MUCH. Listen to it while reading. I promise it makes the experience better. The song <3
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Nobody knows, just why we're here Could it be fate or random circumstance At the right place, at the right time Two roads intertwine
Sukuna never believed in anything silly like fate. He found the idea too ridiculous. Things happen for a reason, yes. But the reasons were always practical.
Like when it came to you You didn't stay with him for this long because you're his other half, or because you're connected by some red string, or God forbid, because you're soulmates. He figured you stayed with him out of pure loyalty because he has proven himself time and time again to be worthy of such devotion—yours and many others'.
And it's not like you have a choice. You were a cursed spirit, a powerful one. People called out your name when they wished for the demise of others. They would pray to you and offer items at your shrine in hopes that you'd grant their twisted wishes. However, you did not only exist for that reason. You were a curse of balance. Not of death—regardless of what others may have assumed.
You hunted down beings with dwindling cursed energy and killed them, so that the energy may return back to nature and circulate again just how nature intended. But you also hunted down anything you deemed too strong to exist in this balanced world of yours. Good or bad sorcerers were all equal in your view. If they were too strong for your liking, you put them six feet under... ten if you were feeling it.
Meeting Sukuna quickly proved that you might not be the strongest in the land. Rather than being irked that a cocky sorcerer like him was stronger than the revered curse of balance, you admired his strength. You were too prideful to admit it at the time, but you swore your loyalty to this man.
So, as a detestable curse living in such an isolated era, you had no choice but to only have him around. Well, it was more of him having you around.
But still, you weren't like his other servants. In fact, you think you'd explode if people started thinking you were some mere servant. Sure, you offered your life to him, but that doesn't mean you were someone to be ordered around. You stuck around just for fun... as friends as they would call it.
Sukuna didn't see the importance of "friends" especially if they served no purpose to him. But for some reason, he let you stay. Even though you were at his shrine mostly to annoy him—he let you stay. He told himself that he does so because your strength and devotion may come handy later on.
But decades have passed and he still hasn't 'put your skills to use' for his benefit. So, really, why was he keeping you around?
He didn't know either.
And if the universe conspired To meld our lives, to make us, fuel and fire Then know wherever you will be So too, shall I'll be
Sukuna sat at his throne, as per usual. One set of arms crossed, 3rd arm lazily resting on the chair, and the 4th arm supporting his head with a fist—just like how he enjoyed his throne time.
He started to lightly thrum his fingers against the metallic material of his throne chair. He always had a bored expression when he sat here and normally it would be because he was busy thinking. But right now, he was genuinely bored.
He thought he was going to start convulsing and vomiting blood because his mind started wandering over to you, what you could be doing at the moment and why you weren't here at his shrine bothering him like usual. It's not like you have anything else important to do besides being at his shrine.
He had the image of your annoyingly wide grin burned into his mind. He could even hear your voice in his head as you asked, "whatcha thinkin' 'bout, 'Kuna?" for the hundredth time. Each time he'd only respond with a 'tsk' but you'd keep pestering him like it was your life's purpose. He'd always act indifferent to your insistent blabbering and questions, but he tolerated it for reasons he didn't know.
He felt like punching himself in the face for even thinking that way about you. But he'd rather not disrespect himself like that. Any form of insolence, even from himself, wasn't welcome to him.
Truth be told, he was starting to think you were stronger than him. Who on God's green earth would even have the power to make him, the strongest sorcerer, think of stupid things. The hold you had over him was just insane.
You were incredibly strong, that much he would admit. So he'd never think that you'd ever get seriously hurt.
"My Lord!" A servant barged into his throne room. Such a foolish act will not go unpunished by him. He ought to—
"The Lady's shrine has been stormed! She's in a dire situation!" Suddenly, thoughts of slicing this brat's head off vanished. You were hurt? But how? If this is some kind of joke, slicing is the least painful thing this brat will ever experience.
"And you know this how?" He asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
The servant was trembling at this point—both due to Sukuna's intimidating gaze and the fact that the Lady could most likely be breathing her last breaths right now. "One of her servants who managed to escape was able to make her way here. She could barely utter what happened. But she was asking for your help, my Lord." He spoke, almost wheezing as he did. The servant tried catching his breath. "It seems that the sorcerers hunting her were incredibly strong and plentiful..." Sukuna thought and thought and thought—until he couldn't. It slowly sank in that you were hurt. That you may actually need his help. The insolent brat second only to him in power was actually in pain at this very moment. He let out 'tsk'.
Part of him was disappointed because you'd use him to your advantage before he could do so to you. But his current indifference was just his way of hiding what he truly felt.
He wasn't looking forward to see what your shrine might hold.
Close your eyes, dry your tears 'Cause when nothing seems clear You'll be safe here from the sheer weight Of your doubts and fears Weary heart, you'll be safe here
He simply walked out of his throne room, not bothering to address his servant's troubled expression. The only thing on his mind as he made his way to your shrine was that image of you smiling at him. His body moved on its own as it knew the way to your shrine like the back of his hand. It gave him time to think about you—without the carnage and violence that he might end up seeing you with in just a few minutes.
Again, he wanted to punch himself for thinking that way. There was just no way you'd be hurt. He reasoned that maybe your servant was being overly dramatic. After all, you tend to be overdramatic as well. It would come as no surprise if you had rubbed it off on your servants. Right?
Right?
He placed his large palm against the red doors of your shrine. It was at this moment, he realized that he rarely came to visit you here. A thought crossed his mind—a thought of regret that maybe he should have come here more often. But never mind that. Sukuna was sure that behind these doors, you'd be standing above the bodies of the fallen sorcerers with that same wicked smile on your face. You'd laugh and greet him with your annoying voice, then you'll come running up to him and smear him with the blood on your hands just to piss him off.
He'd much rather clean his pristine white robes of blood than to see you hurt.
He pushed the doors open... and at least part of his imagination was correct—there were bodies of the fallen sorcerers on the floor, but you were nowhere to be seen. He knew it. You were strong. The sorcerers you defeated were just proof of that. Now he just needed to find you and perhaps listen to your tale of how you managed to beat a large group of assailants.
But his hope was quickly vanquished as he scanned the room. Cast off to the side was you... beaten up, bloodied, and hanging on for dear life. You were slumped against the wall with your face looking down at your lap. You barely had any strength left to even lift your head to see who this new presence was.
Was it another wave of sorcerers out for your head? You could care less at this point. The state you were in made you feel weak. And the weak do not deserve a spot beside Sukuna. And knowing that, you didn't have much of a purpose anymore.
You thought you lived for balance—to hunt down anything you didn't deem to be healthy for the balance of the world. But after meeting Sukuna, you realized that your purpose was to keep him company. He was strong, but even the strong need a companion. You assumed that position because you figured Sukuna only deserved to have the strongest by his side. No more (as if that was possible) and no less.
As your consciousness faded in and out, you felt the presence walk closer to you. His overwhelming aura was standing in front of you in all of its glory. You knew... you just knew it was Sukuna. You detested yourself for allowing him to see you in such a state.
"Just end me..." you whispered softly. He crouched down. He would never do that just for anyone. If he didn't hear what you said, you expected he'd make you stand up. But the great Sukuna lowered himself for you. "Just end me, Sukuna," you repeated.
'Sukuna'? What ever happened to you calling him 'Kuna? He heard you the first time. And he lowered himself because he wanted to see what kind of expression you had while you said such an outrageous thing. End you? As if.
"And why the hell would I end you?" He asked coldly. Emotions were high at the moment. Maybe he should have been gentler. Maybe he should have asked if you were okay first. But what you said put him further into a spiral. "I'm weak. And I can't forgive myself for letting you see me in such a laughable state..." you managed to mutter.
Laughable? He grabbed your jaw harshly with his big hand and forced you to look him in the eye. Your once bright eyes were now dull and you could barely keep them open. The sight aggravated him. "How dare you ask me such a thing, brat." He wasn't mad at you. He was mad at the people who did this to you.
But he soon realized his actions could be misinterpreted. He let go of your jaw. But before your head could hang low again, two hands cupped your face to support you. His unexpected actions stirred something within you.
You felt tears threatening to pour out. Fuck. You were already bloodied and beaten, so the last thing you'd want is to cry like a loser. You bit your bottom lip as hard as you can just to stop the onslaught of tears. You were sure that you drew blood. But even that didn't stop the salty tears that relentlessly rolled down your swollen cheeks.
"Don't look at me. Please," you choked out in between sobs. He felt the warm tears touch his thumbs and trickle down his palms. He felt an odd pang in his heart. He had never felt this way before...
So this is what they call pain.
Remember how we laughed until we cried At the most stupid things like We were so high But love was all that we were on, we belong And though the world would never understand This unlikely union and why it still stands Someday, we will be set free Pray and believe
His thumbs swiped away the fat tears on your face. Even though your vision was blurry, you could tell that the once stoic expression had softened. He wasn't mad? That fact had managed to stop your tears somehow.
"This expression doesn't suit you at all. Where's your stupid smile?" He asked softly. You had no idea that he could sound like this. You wanted to laugh, but everything hurt. You thought that if you moved even a little, your rib would pierce something.
So you just smiled.
"There it is." He tried smiling back. Even Sukuna couldn't imagine he'd be acting like this in front of anyone, but that didn't matter at the moment. He wanted to see you smile again and he did. That's all he cared about right now.
To hell with it, you thought. Every single fiber of your being was hurting right now. But you forced your arms to wrap around him. You yelped as you did. But there was no way you would let this opportunity slip away. With the miniscule amount of strength you had left, you embraced him. You conveyed your devotion to him with your warmth. "Thank you for being here," you managed to squeak out. Your voice was weak and strangled. Breathing became a lot harder. You guess that you did pierce something while trying to hug him.
Even if he didn't return the gesture, you were just glad that you were able to—
But he did. He returned the gesture. He embraced you too. Your head fell slack into the crook of his neck. All four of his arms caged you in protectively. He held you like he never wanted you to go.
In all of his lonely existence, you were the only one who kept him company. His indifference and violent nature was sure to scare off anyone. But not you. You were just like him—a few screws loose, cocky, and powerful. But you had something that he didn't. You held all the warmth in the world—warmth that he had never felt before.
He finally realized why he had kept you around. The question that kept plaguing his mind was answered at last.
He needed you. Not because you were going to come in handy later. You weren't some utilitarian existence to him. He needed you because you make him feel alive.
The reason why your face would pop up in his mind at the most random times was because it was his way of keeping himself going. Knowing your voice to a T was his way of keeping himself sane. The reason why he held you so tightly right now was because he loved you.
He doesn't know what love is. But maybe it was just right to describe what he feels.
And he hated that he had to see the light of his life be hurt like this before he could realize that.
It felt like an eternity—just the two of you in a longing embrace. Now that you and he have calmed down. He was thinking rationally again. He could use RCT and bring you to his shrine where you'd live safely forever under his gaze; his servants serving you at your every whim and—
"There are more..."
Your whisper tickled his ear. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't hear the commotion outside. It seems like there were more sorcerers here to finish the job.
He pulled away from your embrace. Gently, he let you lean against the wall again—making sure you were supported somehow. Then he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.
He'll handle the rest. He won't let them get to you. He promises that.
When the light disappears And when this world's insincere You'll be safe here When nobody hears you scream I'll scream with you...
"You'll be safe here."
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myojin-boo©2024
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spicyclover · 3 days
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You used me
Summary : It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did.
Next part of "You betrayed me"
Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.
Thank you! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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When the door closed that night, I collapsed on the floor of my kitchen, on the cold tiles. In the weeks that followed, I spent them in a blur. I kept myself busy to stop thinking, to stop thinking about you. I lived on automatism. I'm a fucking robot, because of you. I get up in the morning without motivation and go to bed with the ball in my stomach to meet you in my dreams.
I’ve been going over and over our conversation. I’m a bet. A fucking, humiliating bet. I have never been more shame than that evening. Everyone knew and no one told me. They knew that I loved you so bad, and I let you treat me like that. I'm so naïve. I just want myself back. I just wanted to be enough. Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? But don't tell me you're sorry. You should feel sorry for yourself. An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.
Once the door was closed. My friends left with you. Because you bring them more than I could ever and it hurts like hell. To see these "friends" I know since my early childhood mock me for my naivety. Until this day, it is hard to believe. I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one, In a short time you became the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I like to dream. And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.
It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did. You betrayed me.
For the first time since we broke up, I saw you in the street. You had your arm on a new girl. Showing her off like she's a new trophy. A happy and rested look on your face. I wish I dared to come running and punch that smile off your face, but I couldn’t move. You hang out in public with her, but never with me. I went home with tears in my eyes and no morale. It was the first time I managed to leave home after weeks of moping.
The more time passed, the more I felt my head getting out of the water. My body was less numb and I started breathing again, enjoying what I used to love. I adopted a little puppy at this time of my life, the kind we talked about in our long late-night discussion about our future together. You gave me your word. He's the world to me now. Milo, the dog.
The late afternoon often takes me to the beach. I let Milo run on the deserted beach and play with the waves. I take advantage of this moment of calm to observe the sunset. I breathe in and out deeply, letting my last thoughts of you go into the sea. I feel free. After three months of hell, I’m back to normal, like you never existed.
"Hi, bab..." That voice is yours. Why do you come back? Why do you haunt me like that? I turn around and there you are, in all your splendour. Your curls are more beautiful than ever, your face more beautiful than ever. I can't let you win. I walk away from the beach. Milo follows me. I feel your eyes following me soon it's your footsteps I hear. "Please, Y/n, I need to talk to you."
"I think you said enough. You should go back to your new girlfriend. I think she's getting lonely." I said without looking back. The waves fade and I feel your hand grab my arm.
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hello-eden · 3 days
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Dcxdp #24
I have two ideas for Danny reincarnated as Jason Todd.
 The first idea is Danny getting his Memories Back after the Lazarus pit. Talia tries to manipulate him and he believes her for a hot minute but he gets caught up in learning a bunch of new things but it kind of forgets. I never see Danny very motivated by Revenge. None of his loved ones were her so he sees no reason for Revenge. Danny just one day forgets he's supposed to be mad at Bruce as well as the fact that he's dead and just calls him. The conversation carries on for at least 20 minutes back and forth before Danny remembers that he's supposed to be dead. He ends the call once he realizes but the damage has been done. After that call he's just decided that any chance of prank or Revenge is impossible anymore and keeps calling. no one would be able to trace the calls because Danny is not that stupid but once the cat's out of the bag Danny's just too busy to care. I don't think he'd even come back to Gotham until like 2 years after Resurrection. The entire bat family is like holy shit we weren't hallucinating and Danny's like did you think you were.
The second idea is normal Canon happening until Jason almost dies again but they wake up from what should be life-threatening just like the afterlife is too much paperwork. He gives zero context. anytime someone asks he keeps making vague pensions of the fact that the afterlife isn't fun if you're managing the place and leaves it at that. I think they would find out later but Danny being vague about it just brings me much joy.
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slyscoutess · 1 day
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paring: sebastian vettel x fem!singer!reader summary: pilots should learn not to comment on their favorite artists . . . or maybe this is their tactic to get what they want writer: the oldest thing in my drafts, it clearly had to be my first passion in formula 1, one of the reasons I liked watching it, listening to Florence + The Machine, I just wanted to leave my love for sebs on record
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liked by sebastianvettel, jessalexander, christinanadin and 4.636.585 others
yourusername I came for the pleasure, but I stay for the pain . . . New album DANCE FEVER. Out April 19 💙
store.yourname.com
📷: alvarezcamila
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yournameupdate MOTHER IS BACK!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL
ynlnthinker EVERYBODY AND THEIR CHILD FREAKING RIGHT NOW
ynlnandthesiix not her coming back after years with new music and pretending to be normal
vettelchild somebody please check on sebs, i think the man is dead right about now
leclerccough just saw sebastian vettel himself in the likes, she posted it like 2 min ago???
patitowifey father is a hardcore fan just like us fr carlandomind I didn't even know he had Instagram??? pastryf2piastri pretty sure is a fanpage, there is nothing published yet
yournamecuunt Rumors of her divorce emerged in 2020 and she disappeared from the map and now appears with an album out of nowhere
andthesixburner queen behaviour???
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liked by vertappwifey,rosinglovers, vettelbabs and 8.585 others
lovingwags New wag in the paddock?
seen at the Australian GP with some friends and members of the band that makes up her shows and team, yn ln was present at the Australian GP, ​​we cannot confirm which garage she was in, but I think we all have a certain hope of one in specific ( Sebastian please makes us proud
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strollmothering That one blueyfever on twitter beign right all along
blueyfever OF COURSE I FCKING WAS formulaonfacts CAN'T FREAKING BELIEVE IT
ynthinker SCREAMING, CRYING AND THROWING UUUP
minivettel5 This woman is a freaking goddess
vettelhamm Sebastian must be just killing himself right about now
33tororoso Do we, Sebastian Vettel's children, finally have a mother?
maziemillian Isn't he like . . . married? blueyfever yeah! to her!!!! formulaonfacts okay grandma let's get you back to bed
whatamaxemmil I can't wait for blueyfever to be right
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liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others
yourusername for years and years the words you didn't let me write suffocated me, the art you never let me see blinded me, the places you left me humiliated me, but finally my Graceland gained a different meaning and I'm no longer stuck in the bathroom with the same headache, everything you wanted from me didn't belong to you and I finally found someone who would give me the pen and not cut out my tongue, all my love, my affection, my future and my choices belong to him.
Because of him I have Dance Fever every night.
DANCE FEVER is yours to listen now.
view all 48.371 comments
yournameupdate OMG IS THAT????
ynlnthinker THAT IS SEBASTIAN VETTEL HIMSELF
vettelmemes OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
vettelchild WHAT DOES THIS MEAAAAAAN
formulaonfacts BLUEY WAS RIGHT WT???
lecfosi BLUEY THE OLDER WISER SIBLING charles_leclerc no? that would be me maxverstappen1 you are neither charles_leclerc I am her favorite lance_stroll keep dreaming
yournamecuunt the grid competing more for her mother's love than for the world championship
georgerussell63 You haven't seen them in person.
sebastianvettel posted a new video.
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liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others
yourusername It's been three years and a pandemic of an intense creative process, four years of silently recording every movement of my life until dance fever came to me and was finally delivered to you, four years surrounded by incredible people, and as a thank you for me Wait patiently over the last four years, I'll be sharing a little of what I've been going through.
the Dance Fever bts is now on YouTube, I'm sorry for the length, it's been four years of recording.
view all 48.371 comments
charles_leclerc it's 2 in the mornig
yourusername and why aren't you sleeping, pretty sure already put you in bed?
maxverstappen1 I just stopped my sim race to watch something I basically live? yeah
vettelchild my god the amount of content from yn and sebastian, now I have diabetes and i'm still at 2019, they weren't even dating
lecsainzfosi wait . . . WHAT?
lance_stroll I will assume you got to 2020 and 2021 charles_leclerc often sleep on the sofa in their house during these landonorris you and practically everyone on the grid, even Lewlew charles_leclerc yeah but i am her favorite lance_stroll still on this?
yournamecuunt Now that you are intertwined in the world of F1, do you think Lance should just leave?
yourusername Hell no, that is my child, giving my life for him to be happy, never did anything wrong, will never do , everyone who complains about him just wants to make noise and distractions and isn't worrying about the race tsunodaaaa on my way to make a fanpage for this mother and son duo
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The soft tendrils of dawn's first light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow upon the tranquil morning. Sebastian, now retired from the racing circuit, still grappled with the novelty of no longer being tethered to the demanding schedules of tracks worldwide. Yet, awakening beside his wife, cocooned in the serenity of their home, provided a deeply soothing sense of contentment.
As Sebastian nestled closer to his beloved, he could feel her gentle warmth radiating beside him. She slept peacefully, her worries and the frenetic pace of everyday life momentarily suspended. Ever since Bee came into their lives, their nights had become a balancing act between tending to their child's needs and stealing moments of rest. But on this particular night, they had slept deeply, as though replenishing themselves from an extended bout of weariness.
Her locks cascaded like silken waves over the pillow, delicately shrouding her serene countenance. The soft curves of her features bespoke the tranquility she had discovered in that fleeting moment of repose. A fond smile tugged at Sebastian's lips as he recalled the countless nights spent awake with her, cradling her in his arms as she delved into the depths of her creative musings. The restorative embrace of a full night's sleep had invigorated Sebastian. He savored a newfound sense of peace and autonomy, a luxury he hadn't known since bidding farewell to the adrenaline-fueled world of racing. Now, he could devote more of himself to his growing family, witnessing Bee's milestones and relishing in the simple joys of marital companionship.
As the world beyond their bedroom gradually stirred to life, the couple remained ensconced in their private sanctuary. Yet, the tranquil ambiance was momentarily shattered by the soft whimper of Bee, captured by the electronic monitor stationed nearby. With a reluctant sigh, Sebastian's wife stirred beside him, bidding farewell to the depths of slumber.
"Sebastian, your daughter wake up . . .", she groaned, as Bee's gentle cry pierced the stillness of the morning, the woman instinctively buried her face into her husband's chest, seeking refuge from the beckoning call of their daughter. Her soft sobs muffled against the warmth of his embrace, a silent plea for a few more moments of respite.
Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle softly at his wife's playful attempt to evade the inevitable. With a tender affection, he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her frazzled nerves with each gentle stroke. Her muffled laughter reverberated against his chest, a testament to the enduring bond they shared, even amidst the chaos of parenthood. As Bee's cries persisted, Sebastian's wife reluctantly peeled herself away from the sanctuary of his embrace, a resigned smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a loving glance exchanged between them, they silently acknowledged the shared journey of parenthood, filled with its moments of exhaustion and boundless love. With a whispered promise to return, Sebastian's wife slipped out of bed, ready to embrace the day and tend to their beloved daughter.
As the soft hues of morning bathed the room, casting a gentle glow upon their cozy sanctuary, the woman returned, cradling their precious Bee in her arms. Each step she took seemed to echo with the tender rhythm of maternal love, her eyes alight with a serene radiance that mirrored the dawn's gentle embrace.
Sebastian's heart swelled with affection as he watched his wife approach, the ethereal beauty of motherhood emanating from her every movement. With each delicate sway, Bee stirred slightly in her mother's arms, her angelic face still adorned with the remnants of sleep. As his wife drew nearer, Sebastian's eyes sparkled with an unwavering adoration, a silent testament to the profound love he held for both his wife and their darling daughter. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the tender bond that bound their family together.
Bee, with her tiny hands outstretched, reached eagerly for her father, her sleepy gaze melting hearts with its innocence. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat as he eagerly scooped her up, enveloping her in a warm embrace that radiated with paternal love. With a contented sigh, his lover gently lowered Bee onto the bed, where the little one wobbled unsteadily before finding her footing. With a gleeful giggle, Bee propelled herself into her father's waiting arms, her laughter filling the room with its infectious melody. Sebastian's heart swelled with pride as he cradled their daughter close, showering her with affectionate kisses that elicited a chorus of delighted squeals. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love, Sebastian's wife couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the family they had created together.
As she reclined on the bed, a gentle hand instinctively drifted to her burgeoning belly, where new life stirred with the promise of tomorrow. With each fluttering kick, her heart overflowed with anticipation, a silent prayer whispered for the blessings that lay ahead.
In the tranquil embrace of their shared love, Sebastian's wife felt as though she had finally found her own personal Graceland—a haven of warmth, purity, and boundless affection. And as the laughter of her husband and daughter echoed through the room, she knew that their home would forever be filled with the sweet symphony of love's enduring melody.
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sebastianvettel My Dearest,
As I sit down to write these words, I find myself immersed in thoughts of you, my heart overflowing with emotions that words alone cannot fully capture. Each day spent by your side feels like ascending to a throne, where you reign as my sovereign, my King. Your presence in my life has granted me a sense of liberation, a feeling of being truly Free from the constraints of the past.
Our journey together has been a whirlwind of joy and passion, a dance of souls caught in the frenzy of love. In your arms, I've discovered a rhythm unlike any other, a Choreomania that consumes us, leaving us breathless yet exhilarated. Whenever I find myself away from you, it's as if I've returned to familiar grounds, back in the embrace of a familiar town. You are my anchor, my sanctuary, my safe haven — a feeling encapsulated in the phrase Back In Town.
Together, we stand united against the odds, defying conventions and societal norms. We are rebels, fighters, Girls Against God in a world that seeks to confine us. In the depths of night, you are my beautiful paradox, my Dream Girl Evil. Your essence is both enchanting and mysterious, a captivating blend that keeps me endlessly intrigued.
Within the walls of our home, our love becomes a sanctuary, a Prayer Factory where we offer our hearts and souls in devotion to each other. It is here, in the sacred space we've created, that I find solace and strength. You possess a wisdom and insight that transcends time, a gift akin to that of the mythical Cassandra. Your intuition guides me, leading me towards a future filled with hope and promise.
In your arms, I've found my heaven, my nirvana — for Heaven is Here, whenever I'm with you. Your presence alone is enough to transform the ordinary into something extraordinary, turning mundane moments into memories I'll cherish forever. Your smile, like a radiant daffodil in a field of blooms, brings light and warmth to even the darkest of days. With you, each moment becomes a celebration of life, a testament to the beauty of love.
My love for you knows no bounds, transcending the limits of time and space. You are my guiding star illuminating the path before me with your boundless affection. Even in moments of separation, I exercise restraint, longing to hold you close yet savoring the anticipation of our reunion. Distance may test us, but it only serves to deepen my love for you, fortifying the bond we share.
Together, we are a force to be reckoned with, a Bomb waiting to explode with passion and desire. In your arms, I find solace, security, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. You are my muse, my inspiration, my Mermaid of the depths. Your allure is irresistible, drawing me in with your ethereal beauty and grace.
My dearest, these words pale in comparison to the depth of my affection for you. You are the beating heart of my existence, the light that guides me through the darkness.
With all my love,
Sebastian
tagged: yourusername
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charles_leclerc alright gonna wrap it up, never gonna be this kind of romantic
carlossainz55 not even shakespere thought about writing something like that, mate
maxverstappen1 When will it be my turn?
kellypiquet what? maxverstappen1 when will it be my turn to be this romantic
lance_stroll MAMA AND PAPA
fernandoalo_oficial beautiful letter, really big, not gonna read but it's wonderful
jensonbutton I've never seen anyone who had so much to say, my god lewishamilton stole all the romance of the century landonorris That's why we live in the century of whoredom
yournamecuunt DID HE JUST MAKE A LETTER WITH ALL HER SONGS IN ORDER?
aussiegrit he's crazy romantic sentimental like that
motheryourname why hasn't yourusername commented yet?
lance_stroll She's here crying like hell at Sebs' farewell party alex_albon She's been really emotional today, with the party and everything. landonorris It's the hormones of this new pregnancy ynthinker THE WHAT sebastianvettel Lando??? yourusername FOR FUCKS SAKE landonorris sorry, sorry SORRY MOTHER
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sourlove · 3 days
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YANDERE ROCKSTAR 🎸 INTRO FIC (200 Follower Special!)
TW: HE GETS YANDERE LATER ON. NOTHING REALLY IN THIS ONE, CARRY ON
THANKS SO MUCH FOR 200+ FOLLOWERS! ENJOY!
(FEMALE GROUPIE READER)
Smoke billowed from Axel's parted lips as he ran a hand down his face. The club was hazy and jampacked with drunk people grinding on each other. It would have been too much if he had been a part of the sweaty throng, but Axel had the luxury of watching them from the balcony of the VIP section.
He sighed and took another drag of his cigarette, dropping his head back against the seat. He shouldn't have come here.
"Axe! My man!" An arm slung over Axel's shoulder and he was greeted with the unwelcome face of the Jailbird drummer, Max. The man grinned at the distaste on Axel's face. "Jeez, man, you've been so uptight lately. Should I get some girls?"
"Get off me," Axel grumbled. He couldn't even be bothered to shake him off. "You know why I'm fucking stressed."
Max hummed in understanding and handed him a bottle of beer. For the past few days, Axel couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. Jailbird's new album was supposed to come out in a few months and for the life of, him, he couldn't stop mulling over the title track. It was the most important song in the album, one that should be guaranteed to make headlines. One that he hadn't written yet.
"Would you look at that?" Max mumbled, causing Axel to glance towards the entrance of the VIP lounge. The bass guitarist, Eli and the pianist, Maryanne, came in laughing. But they weren't alone. They were followed by a gaggle of girls, all awe-struck and giggling at whatever story Elijah was telling. Max immediately gravitated towards the group, followed by the other guitarist Riley.
Axel stayed seated and sipped his drink, ignoring them when Max tried to pull him into the conversation. He didn't have time for this. Normally, he would be working his charm on some poor girl, using her to blow of some steam and slip away once he was done.
But there was an itch he couldn't scratch tonight. One that had him snapping at the only girl who dared to try her luck with the lead singer and guitarist of the band. Everyone steered clear after that. He needed some kind of inspiration for the fucking song and nothing in this club was helping.
Axel was nearly done with his third cigarette when his eyes drifted and suddenly met yours. E/C eyes widened and immediately darted away. He would have thought nothing of it if you didn't glance back after a few seconds, looking embarrassed when you made eye contact once again. He smirked and took you in for the first time that night. Now there was a surprise. There was something striking to you. You were dressed the same as the other girls and seemed starstruck by everything, just like them, but there was a freshness to you that intrigued Axel.
Before he could register his thoughts, he beckoned you over. You blinked and looked around. He shook his head and pointed directly at you, grinning. You stood up shakily and walked to him, looking like a newborn fawn in your precariously high heels.
"H-hi," you said, standing next to the couch.
"Hi. Come sit." Axel made room for you, just enough that your thighs still touched. You twisted your hands nervously as he drank in the sight of you.
"Um, i-it's nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan."
"You like Jailbird?" he asked. "What's your favorite song, then?"
You jumped when his hand played with the collar of your blouse. It was cute, like you. A bit revealing, Axel noted, as his eyes drifted over your cleavage, but nice. Simple.
"Oh no. I mean the band is awesome, but I'm really just a fan of you." You ducked your head shyly. "I like 'Starlight'."
He laughed loudly, surprised. "You know Starlight? Fuck, that's an old song. I don't believe you."
'Starlight' was one of the few songs he performed alone, when Jailbird was just a dream that only he and Max believed in. Axel only ever sang it once, at a random talent show and he didn't even place on the board. It had been a blight in his career, one he buried with new albums and songs that topped the charts. So he was genuinely surprised to see you reach into your bag and unfold a creased flyer for the talent show, dated years ago. On the back, was his old signature, a rough scrawl that he hated but remembered.
"Shit." Axel squinted at the paper, suddenly sober. "You-you really were there..."
"I don't think you would remember me," you babbled on, oblivious to his internal thoughts. "I wanted to ask for a picture, but you didn't look so good, which I understand because you were robbed! I-I mean, you obviously deserved first place, Starlight was-is amazing!"
Axel didn't like to be reminded of the time when he was nobody, when nothing he ever wrote was good enough, especially not Starlight. It was his first song, his favorite song, until all he got for it was scattered applause and a participation slip. The band was formed and Axel had a new sound, a new meaning to his songs. Starlight did not cut it anymore.
And now, here you were, digging up his dirty past, holding it to his face. And showing him how much you loved it. It was humbling. Axel didn't like to be humbled. But he liked you. He liked you very, very much.
"Ever had a shotgun kiss?" He asked, interrupting your rant. You blinked again and shook your head.
"Oh no, I don't smoke, sorry."
"You could start," Axel said, holding his cigarette up. He took a long drag and grabbed you face, squishing your cheeks to part your lips. He smirked when your breath hitched as your mouths met and chuckled when you coughed, pulling away from him. "Not bad, starlight. Just needs some practice." He held out his bottle and you took a tentative sip, smiling shyly. Cute.
"You're much nicer than you look," you commented. Only to immediately backtrack. "N-not that you look mean or anything! It just seems like you prefer being alone..."
Axel hummed, lighting another stick. He held it up to you and stared at you with an eyebrow raised. You grimaced but wrapped your lips around it anyway. When you stopped coughing, he said, "You should listen to your instincts. I'm not so nice, starlight."
He watched you fiddle with the hem of your skirt for a moment, before glancing up at him through your lashes. "Well...what if I don't want to listen to them?"
Suddenly, Axel wanted nothing more than to leave the club with you on his arm. He grinned and stood up, offering his hand to you. "Oi, Max! I'm heading back so don't wait up!"
You blushed as your friends cheered, and Max gave Axel a thumbs up. "Where are we going?" Were you really that clueless? Axel would have a lot of fun ruining that innocence.
"Just you wait, starlight," he purred into your ear, nipping at the soft shell as you shivered. "I'm going to change your life."
Hours later, in his hotel suite, as his sweat cooled and his heartbeat slowed, Axel's mind buzzed with ideas. The inspiration he had been desperately searching for rushed to him as you nuzzled into his neck, sleepily.
"What did you say your name was again, starlight?"
"Hmmm? Y/N."
"Fuck that's a pretty name," he breathed.
Y/N, Y/N, Y/N...it looked like he had a title for the song. All he had to do was start writing down and tweaking the lyrics. But that would have to come later. Axel pulled you closer and drifted to the first peaceful rest he'd had in weeks, with your name still on his tongue.
Y/N...
A/N: Hope you guys love Axel as much as you love Lucas! If you enjoyed, leave a like, comment and reblog. Or drop and ask for anything you had in mind. Loves ya xxx
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romanticintheory · 17 hours
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Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.
simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules
-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.
-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.
-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.
-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.
-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.
-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.
-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.
-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.
-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.
-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.
-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"
-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.
-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.
-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.
-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.
-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.
-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"
-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.
-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"
-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."
-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.
-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?
-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.
-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?
-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.
-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.
-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.
-"(y/n)," he said.
-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.
-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.
-"you alright?"
-"yes. why?"
-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."
-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.
-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"
-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.
-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."
-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."
-"no."
-"no?"
-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."
-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?
-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."
-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.
-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.
-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.
-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"
-"what?"
-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"
-"you're not fucked up."
-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."
-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.
-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."
-"you give me plenty."
-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."
-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.
-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"
-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.
-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.
-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.
-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.
-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.
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fairyysoup · 1 day
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it will come back
part one
a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)
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pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader
summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.
cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)
a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.
In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.
Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month. 
There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.
Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.
(You don’t believe that, either.)
You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.
You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust. 
You usually do what you’re told. Usually. 
On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.
You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors. 
Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.
It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.
And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.
You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.
It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body. 
You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt. 
The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.
“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.” 
You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.
“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”
The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness. 
“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”
The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.
“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.” 
Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.
You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg. 
“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin. 
You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry. 
You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”
As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.
You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.
“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding. 
You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.
“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.” 
The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement. 
“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it. 
You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.
“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”
The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved. 
You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.
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You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.
In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.
By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.
You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night. 
But you know it to be true. You know it.
How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it. 
Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.
“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!” 
You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!” 
You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think. 
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There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house. 
One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served. 
Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers. 
You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby. 
“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh. 
“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.
You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.
“Um,” is all you can say.
“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.
His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.
“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?” 
“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance. 
“Who are you?”
“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.” 
“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?” 
“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”
“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.
He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”
You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”
“Thereabouts.” 
You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”
You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.” 
 “Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?” 
You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.
The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.
“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.
You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”
“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.” 
“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?” 
“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.” 
“That’s forward of you.” 
“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?” 
You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.
“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…” 
“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”
“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”
Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”
You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”
“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”
You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”
You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of. 
You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them. 
“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”
“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”
“A dream?” you echo with a scoff. 
“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”
You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”
“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”
You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast. 
Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him. 
“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.
“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”
You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside. 
Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice. 
163 notes · View notes
vourequat · 3 days
Text
GENSHIN MEN courting you.
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WARNING: This is a Filipino AU set in the Spanish Colonization period, so basically all of these are inspired by Filipino courting rituals.
Contains Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvilette, and Wriothesley (some of these men are hand picked because of the languages on the banner on top tehee.), fem!reader, age gap.
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Diluc Ragnvindr (Manileño)
Being the son of a businessman, he was the highest regarded bachelor in all of Manila being that he was also rather good looking.
This man is not a big fan of romanticism and would often avoid it like the plague but his guilty pleasure was to read books in the romantic genre hidden away in the depths of his library, his trips to the book store was more often than usual and many thought that he's gone book crazy but that was not the case however.
You.
You were the reason that he's now the book shop's loyal patron, you were just a simple woman from another business oriented family. You were the typical Maria Clara to the spectators eyes, quiet and modest though that was not Diluc saw.
You were ambitious and rather messy at times but that's what he loved about you, your comfortability with someone like him made him feel that he actually was able to make friends of his own that his father had not told him to befriend for the sake of business.
That's when he started to grow feelings for you.
He was still stoic and expressionless at times but whenever he sees you, his ears visibly go red under his luscious red locks.
With the encouragement of his mother and the head maid of his estate, he mustered up the bravery in his entire blood line to go to your home with the intent of asking for your father's blessing to court you.
He was shocked to see that there were other men who were after you; from a Mestizo to a Sangley, they were all there waiting for your sweet yes.
But he had an advantage that didn't have; they didn't know you the way he did.
It started from flowers to love letters, he did everything that he learnt from the romance books he had read and basically copied every single gentleman in the books that women loved.
His very next move was to bring you by the lake that he had remembered that you used to go to as a little girl, it was a bit muddy though, ruining yours and his shoes but it didn't matter as he saw that you were obviously over the moon to see a childhood place again still intact.
He saw something that your other suitors weren't able to see nor willing to, they painted you as this innocent flower that needed corruption from them but to him— you were the most adventurous and the bravest girl he's ever seen.
"Yes." You laughed.
He raised a brow, "Yes what, binibini?" he asked.
"I want to be yours..."
Those very words made his heart race as if he just ran from his house to the nearest farm in the concrete city of Manila, he couldn't believe that his awkward attempts to act out the romanticism of men in books that women seem to love had worked.
"You're pulling on my leg..." He breathed out only to be wronged by her shaking her head.
And just like that, he ran to you and lifted you into the air. The adrenaline causing the two of you to fall into the mud, it was sticky and wet but it didn't matter to him even if his ivory white blouse that his maids spent hours on to perfect was ruined because his heart was now owned by the most perfect woman he could ever think of.
"So... what should we call each other?" He asked.
Kaeya Alberich (Español)
Ever since he has set foot in the Philippines with his father who governed the Philippines in the reign of the Spaniards he has never felt the sense of nervousness, back in Madrid, he had an image to uphold as a government official's son but now he can just let loose.
His move to the Philippines was the very start of his rebellion, he now probably felt like a normal boy like he dreamt of back in Spain but his father wasn't having it.
So to set him straight, he put Kaeya in the supervision of a prayle.
The first mass where he served as the priest's assistant he managed to oversee the entire service from the elevated stage where statues of saints and Jesus were all shown in the altar made of wood and gold. One of them was you, a really pretty Filipina who was praying religiously and singing alongside the child choir.
After the mass, he was about to gather his friend of rebellious teens until he was stopped and called upon the priest he's under.
He mustered up his most innocent boy smile until he saw you approaching, turns out that you were the goddaughter of the priest and he wanted Kaeya and her to be friends since she was the best candidate of friends that could place a good influence on him.
He was beyond bored, accompanying you and other nuns and worshippers as you all prayed to the virgin Mary. There he realized that convincing you to join him to the dark side was a hard task to do, you weren't that innocent but you were the most pure and truest girl he's ever met.
Sometimes you were sassy and very witty but he felt as if you really cared for him despite just being friends with Kaeya so that his father won't worry about him while he's away, with you he learned a lot of things, mainly that he didn't need to rebel to be free.
Most of the things he did was disobeying his father but it didn't do him any good at all, with his friends he learned to become a womanizer and to drink at a very young age. But it was weird to admit that you managed to fix him.
From table manners to memorising the entire prayers in the book in Latin, he learned it all from you. You were the only friend that his father approved of however, despite being a girl and potentially seeing his son in a romantic way not that he minded having you as a daughter in law.
Kaeya soon blossomed feelings for you, it started from helping around the church like you did and almost took your job from you.
He was still cheeky as ever, his teenager instincts causing him to want to create discord but you manage to dim it down with a simple glance.
Everyone loved your pairing, almost every single one encouraged you and Kaeya to start dating already and with the blessing of his father and your father, he began to do the cheesiest things.
You were confused if whether he was doing this to sway you or just flat out piss you off.
One night, you were sleeping peacefully until you heard something from the open window of your room. Groggily heading your way there you saw Kaeya and his goons of friends who some you recognized to be the sons of the farmers in your father's hacienda.
"This is for you, cariño..." Kaeya and his poor ability to sway women with his voice began to sing you a popular Spanish love song, he was hurting your ears but it amused you.
You stayed by the window sill and watched as he sang while his friends played a guitar or a drum made out of a bucket, they were all in tune with the original song but Kaeya seemed to have his own version.
"Oh my dearest... will you give this lonesome and poor little Spanish boy your sweetest yes?" He said so dramatically, maybe you should've banned him from reading Jane Austen or Shakespeare.
You laughed at his advances before giving him the shockest shock of his life, "Sure... why not?"
He looked like was about to faint when he heard those words come out of you, his friends celebrating behind him like a bunch of buffoons while he was still awestrucked.
"R-Really...?" He had to make sure.
"Yes, now come in and meet my mother before I change my mind." You've never seen this usually spoiled man who had everything handed to him with a snap of his fingers run so fast into your house and to your living room where he met your mother and your father, ready to welcome him as their son in law.
His father would actually faint if he found out about this though. Who would've thought that his son would be able to grab a girl like you?
Neuvilette (Mestizo)
Like Diluc, he was not one to meddle in with romance since he was very busy as a foreign law maker and businessman.
He only found himself in the ports of Manila due to a business pact with a bunch of Sangley's that offered a good proposal, he never thought of soulmates because to him it was just another myth for the hopeless romantics but it was quite ironic as he was in the territory of the romantics of the south eastern islands.
Soulmates were just plain bullshit until he saw you.
A young merchant who was heavily business minded, though it was the 1800s so no one took you that seriously and that's where your brother came in. He was the perfect bridge for Neuvilette to get to know you better, to get to know what fuels that fire that made you glowing like the blazing sun of the tropics.
Neuvilette manages to strike a deal with your brother however when he asks of you, his eyes widened— you were only twenty two while he was already in his late thirties.
A blossoming flower and a mature tree stump was not exactly the most ideal to some but just like nature, it works in different ways.
In one of his tours to the factory of your brother when he saw you show your amazing leadership and logical thinking skills, he admired every single bit of what you've presented to an oldie like him and you were really pretty on top of that.
You would look perfect together, two business driven minds and great skills in making connections— but you were too sweet for him.
You were still too young for his taste so he just waited for you to grow older, not that he expected some sort of miracle from the heavens that was until one day you yourself aroused the idea of secret feelings. You may have had caught up on how he longingly stares at you and how much he admired you so you wanted to know if he wanted an amazing advice for you.
The businessman was blushing hard, it didn't help that he was pale either.
Then he just pulled out a bouquet of flowers towards you, you accepted them of course due to how pretty they were but why did he give it to you?
"Can I... Can I court you, my lady?" Those very words started the long road to your sweet approval to finally call himself yours, he began to stop by the factory more and more to help around to make use of the time he had before he had to go back to France.
And when that dreaded day came, he didn't seem to forget you one bit. Every month your house was bombarded by boxes of love letters and other items that Neuvilette scoured the entirety of his motherland remembering that you liked them.
It took about three years before he finally got the time to go back to the Philippines to see how the joint business he had with your brother was going but mostly it was to see you of course, waiting by the dock was the familiar woman whose address he kept in his head like words engraved in stone.
Too much to his dismay he began to grow white hairs while you were just starting to greet wrinkles to your beautiful face. It made him insecure and made him think twice if he should greet you until you attacked him with a big hug when he was not looking, he took it as an opportunity to raise you up in the air to view that beauty he longed years for before hugging you back even tighter.
To the spectators, it was rather weird to see an unmarried duo be this intimate but it did not matter. Neuvilette didn't suffer two grueling years of courting her without even getting to see her in person just to be ashamed of showing his love for her.
"Sinasagot na kita..." trans: "I'm going to answer your question."
And just like the first time he showed his love for you, he grew pink and became more bashful by the minute.
He tucked your stray hair behind your ear before he leaned down to admire your beautiful eyes that he'd be lucky to see every single morning when he wakes up and night when he goes to sleep, he wanted you to be his and wanted his entire being to be in your hands, that was how much he loved you.
"And I'm not too young anymore..." Your witty comment making both of you chuckle before his laugh died down as he continued to look into your eyes.
"And I won't get tired of loving you everyday of the rest of my mortal life." He was about to continue his very sappy and sweet dialogue when your brother butted in with an all too familiar smile on his face, "So can I have my business partner now?"
Right, as much as you wanted to greet your suitor and now nobyo, your brother also was here to greet his business partner. Maybe you two will talk this out later on when you two have the time but for now, you were here for business.
Wriothesley (Probinsyano)
Being the eldest of his family, Wriothesley was sent to work at the Hacienda of a rich businessman near the city.
He didn't mind the work at all as he himself wanted to do something to help around the house in many ways possible, being family oriented and too busy raising his younger siblings, love wasn't exactly his first priority in mind until he saw you.
Your father was touring him and other new workers around the farm when he saw you passing by and conversing with your friends, so this was what all the craze was about city girls.
Every time you visited the farm while he tended to the horse stable he made sure to use that as a chance to converse with you, as you were in one of the shaded benches and reading he suddenly decided to approach you.
"Hi, ma'am... that's umm... a cool looking book" he started but he was a bit nervous, you seemed to be a smart collegiala while he can't even admit his illiteracy.
You couldn't fault him that he couldn't even read or write, after all, he came from a different life than you so you offered to teach him the basics and have him full access to your library.
He was a rather fast learner and you liked that as an impatient woman, that tutoring however slowly turned to a flirting session. You had to admit that Wriothesley was a sweet guy but he just wasn't your type though he was keen on changing that.
From a bag of apples he gathered from the apple orchard to a wheel of cheese that he and his fellow workers managed to create from the left over cow milk they harvested, he did everything he can and did what he knew to sway a woman just to change your mind.
You loved his attitude and insistent nature, you were starting to like him but you just wanted to play with him and pretended to not be so impressed until you surprised him with a surprise visit to your father.
The man was shaking like crazy when he met his boss in a more relaxed setting, it was just him and your father all alone.
"So you like my daughter?" Your father started.
"I- uh...—" Before he could even answer, your father cut him off.
"And I want you to be my son in law."
Wriothesley had to check twice if he heard his boss right, he had been working under him for about a couple years now and your father saw his hardwork around the farm and trying to woo you to accept his offer of love.
"But... you need to make that cheese you made again last time, it was delicious..." Now, with your father's blessing, he gathered his friends to create the same wheel of cheese for your father to further prove that he was serious with you but he did most of the hardwork as he was motivated by you.
While he was busy molding the cheese into shape, you decided to pay a visit and stopped by his friends who were watching him from afar after helping him gather excess milk from the cows.
"That man's head over heels for you, ma'am" one of them said.
You laughed, "I know... the feelings are mutual."
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"Creativity comes from those who have a lot of responsibilities but refuses to do them" — Veritas Ratio, the philosopher, probably.
A/N: I am not swaying my feet while writing this, never. And I'm running out of ideas so I may make more Filipino AUs of characters I like to make fanfics of and will probably make text AUs because I'm getting obsessed with the ones on Tiktok.
Trans: Good morning, my love. Go and eat breakfast mwah!!!
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rayroseu · 2 days
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I love the contradiction of Overblot Malleus's beliefs. He believes that we need to be surrounded by "happiness" so that we could enjoy our life and not be sad. He accomplishes this by crafting a world where our struggles is non existent and we're able to get what we want (dreams) easily. What he does feels like he's pampering us. But at the same time, "being pampered" is also the thing that Malleus finds icky.
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translation by cymr and kimiko ch
Having the chores be completed after him, everything cleaned up and provided before him, without Malleus trying any of those chores (even though he's capable of doing so and is eager to learn) which is why he finds it "annoying" when others complete it just because they want to treat him like a royal prince.
The act of cleaning after him feels similar to what Overblot Malleus' is doing, he's providing us a cleaned up world (a world without pain/struggle) so we don't have to do any chores (like experiencing sadness), just because Malleus considers us the people that he needs to protect and provide to.
Maybe(?) Overblot Malleus does this "blessing", because he believes "the people are weak so they deserve an easier life".
Its like... this "pampering" that Malleus dislikes and his vision of "what life should be", is a contradiction.
Both Malleus and the people, in these situations, are capable of overcoming struggles or learning curves in a difficult task, so there is "no need for an easier route/seamless happy life" because struggles and having autonomy are important.
I guess this is also a nice trait that Malleus really reflects upon his upbringing?? XD
So, essentially, Normal Malleus hates being pampered with, just because he's a royalty (even though he's capable of being independent and can learn through the struggle). This thing that Normal Malleus hates, is also the behavior that Overblot Malleus is promoting.
So it's like Overblot Malleus doesn't see that he would also Dislike it if someone where to trap him in a "room"(dreamworld) where everything is just done for him, just because they have this predetermined assumption that Malleus shouldn't struggle because he's a prince. lol
STYX should just contact us Diasomnia stans if they want to treat the option of “just talking it out with overblot Malleus” more seriously, we'll refute that fae's every hypothesis TRUSTTTT while this organization was busy analysing his magic we were busy analyzing his psyche XD 🤣
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wingedhallows · 2 days
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a little jealousy; sirius black
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pairing: sirius black x reader | 0.9k words plot: fighting is normal but, making up is just as important. authors note: i hope u like this little something
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You hated this, the quiet. His hand would be around you, on your thigh, on your arms, his body flush against you, his voice blurring everything out. You missed him.
He avoided you, you had fought after all, over something stupid, you now realized. 
“That’s ridiculous.” He laughed as he turned his back to you. The surring anger inside your chest rose only further.
“So you think it’s ridiculous that I’m angry because Melanie fucking Primrose was hitting on you while I stood right fuckin’ next to you?!”
He brushed a hand over his face before he pushed a cigarette between his lips. He didn’t look at you, brushed your issue away like it wasn’t one at all.
“Sirius, look at me when I’m speaking to you.” He eyed you, blowing some smoke from his lips, mouth in a scowl.
“Sirius!” Your hand on his upper arm before he shrugged it off, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Back off, Y/N.” He blew some more smoke before he stepped away from you. He took his jacket and shrugged it on.
“Actin’ like my goddamn mother.”
You huffed in disbelief.
“You didn’t just compare me to your abusive, awful mother.” Your chest felt tight, your hands were icy cold.
“Oh please, you’re just like her. I can’t even stand the sight of you right now.”
He took a drag of his cigarette and walked past you, hitting your shoulder in the process.
You were still angry, livid even. He had compared you to his horrible mother, the woman you loathed for treating him like garbage. You’ve fought before, of course you did.
Every couple fights but never has he ever insulted you like this. Was that what he saw you like? As a woman so awful that he has to compare you to the woman who abused him for years on end?
 
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“Why won’t you talk to him?” Lily’s hand rested on your arm, drink in hand. Reggie poured some more in your cup.
“Leave him be, he deserves to be miserable, to be honest.” You downed the insides of your cup before holding it out for the younger Black to fill it up again.
“You might want to slow down a bit or you’ll end up shit faced.” He commented before filling up the cup again. “James said he regrets acting like this.” Lily tried again but you shook your head.
“Why won’t he tell me then? If he regrets it so badly?” Reggie sighs and blows some smoke. “You’re acting childish.” You frowned at him, hands now crossed.
“You blew up in his face over something he didn’t even register and he compared you to our awful monster of a mother, I believe you’re kind of even.” 
You didn’t answer, you knew he was right. You watched Sirius glance at you before he took off to the balcony.
“Talk to him, apologize and please make up, I can’t take anymore of your weeping.” 
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“Hi.” You tried, a cigarette in your mouth as you searched for a lighter. He was quicker and lit the cigarette for you. “Hello, love.” He said, putting his lighter away.
“I-”I’m” Both of you wanted to apologize, at the same time. A chuckle escaped the both of you as you stared ahead, the music buzzed behind you in a comforting manner.
“I wanted to apologize, I never should’ve said that to you. You’re nothing like my mother.” He paused and placed his hand in yours.
“You’re the most loving, beautiful and kindest woman I’ve ever known. I was angry and I spoke before thinking.” You nodded, taking a drag from your cigarette.
You turned to him, his hair fell over his eyes a bit, his eyes glassy. “I shouldn’t have made it such a big issue. I was jealous and let it out on you. I'm sorry.” He nodded, his thumb stroking your hand lovingly.
“I guess we’re both idiots.” You nodded and flicked your done cigarette off the balcony. Your hand found the back of his neck before you pulled him for a kiss.
“But if you let Melanie touch you like this once again I’m sneaking into your room at night and I’ll strangle you to death, got it?” 
His face stretched into a grin as he nodded, his eyes hooded. “Is that funny to you?” He chuckled as he placed a quick kiss on your lips.
“I kind of like you a little jealous.” You shook your head and grabbed for his cigarette, he let you.
“This is way more than just jealousy, I’m obsessed with you.” He tilted his head and grabbed your waist with his unoccupied arm, lips in a smile.
“I love you.” He whispered. You grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.
“You’re mine, Sirius.” He nodded, your head on his chest. He placed a kiss on top of your head. “All yours, love.”
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princekeerys · 21 hours
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Lucifer x shy Baker reader
very first lucifer story and i can’t tell if i like it or hate it lol but i hope u guys enjoy it!! :)
☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •
sugar. butter. flour.
that’s how most of your days went — baking pastries in one of hell’s finest bakeries, serving regular, everyday sinners, to the fanciest overlords of hell. it was tiring work, starting everything from scratch each and every morning and making sure every bite would be the freshest it could be.
you, yourself, weren’t an overlord — just a normal city goer on the streets of pentagram city, doing your job to make a living. even in hell you’re expected to pay rent; but i guess that’s why it’s called hell.
the door chimes, signalling a customer entering your quiet little bakery that smelled of strawberries and sweetness.
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“hello, darling” and there he was — lucifer morningstar, the king of hell, himself. you look up from where you were putting the last of your pies in the display case, your cheeks becoming as red as the strawberries you cut up earlier. “oh, your majesty! hello!” you make your way to the front counter, hoping he doesn’t realize how flustered he makes you merely by his own presence.
oh, he absolutely notices. and it feeds his ego tenfold.
he rests his elbow on the counter, resting his chin on the back of his hand.
“i believe i ordered a dozen of your finest cupcakes. shaped like ducks, to be more precise” you chuckle to yourself — who knew the king of hell would get so much enjoyment out of rubber ducks? “let me go get those for you, your majesty”
“oh, dear, there’s no need for formalities. lucifer’s just fine. especially since i’m in here oh-so often” he looks at you with half lidded eyes, raising his eyebrows at you. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you when he speaks in that tone.
you try not to stumble over your own two feet as you get the fancy pink box that has a clear lid, perfectly displaying his highness’s order. you can feel yourself trying not to shake with nerves because satan, he’s so beautiful. “i’m beginning to think you come in here for more than just the sweets i bake” you place the box with fragile goods down in front of him on the counter. lucifer chuckles at your statement, drawing small circles with his pointer finger on your counter. “oh, really? and what makes you say that, hm?”
“i-i don’t know… maybe it’s just an observation, but you come here more than the regulars. and when you do, you usually strike up a conversation with me for hours on end until i have to tell you we’re closed” you chuckle shyly, recalling the countless times lucifer has come in just to talk to you, or give you so many compliments that turn you into a blushing mess.
you don’t understand why he has specific interest in you; he barely knows you, and you him. only in the fairytales in your mind are happily holding hands together.
“oh! haha! that!” he looks nervous, fiddling with his jacket lapels and wiping none existent dirt off his sleeves, not realizing how many times he’s come in just to see you. but he can’t help it, he’s craving the sweetness you give off of lavender and daydreams that it spins him poetic; and he hopes that maybe one day you’ll let him have a taste (you will). “i suppose you just have a way of… drawing me in, i-i guess”
“i just work here, lucifer… you don’t even know me”
“well then, perhaps we should change that then, don’t you think?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head like a small puppy. lucifer’s heart nearly beats out of his chest. “what do you mean?”
“i meaaan… come by! a-and share some cupcakes with me! and we can also have tea! or chocolate milk! we don’t even have to have the cupcakes! i can get something made for us! michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte!”
you giggle at his excitement and lucifer swears he could listen to that sound for the rest of eternity.
“i-i get off work at five?” you ask with a shy smile, pink dusting your cheeks at the thought of a date with the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. “then i shall see you then, my dear” he kisses the back of your hand with a gentleness that leaves your head spinning as he picks up the box of duck-shaped cupcakes and walks out of your bakery.
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please reblog/comment if you enjoyed my work, it’s greatly appreciated ♡
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redr0sewrites · 2 days
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Loki x reader General Hcs
this was... spontaneous! but i said i'd write for marvel and theres no better time than the present. PLEASE send in marvel requests🙏
🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!loki, little teensy bit of angst if u squint
🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion
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sfw:
loki is a naturally guarded person, and is very intelligent and clever. he's not one to let his guard down easily and isn't used to dealing with true romantic feelings, so you are obviously very special to him
loki is incredibly intelligent and good at reading people, along with being very charismatic. he's used to charming people to get his way, and he very, very rarely shows his true feelings unless he trusts you. he cares a lot about your opinion, and a part of him really, really wants to please you
at first, it's hard for even loki to tell whether his feelings for you are genuine, and he gets completely tongue tied around you. he wants to be around you all the time, and he admires you a lot
when it comes to actually dating loki, please be patient!!! he will only truly begin to let his guard down around you over time, and he believes that you'll only find him irritating. he definitely has a big "hurt them and push them away before they hurt you", type of mentality, and when he first realizes how much he cares for you he will probably avoid you for a little
everyone knows loki loves attention, and that is no different in a relationship. he is both touch starved and touch disgusted as he doesn't want to appear vulnerable, but craves any sort of intimacy that you offer
very thoughtful, and he remembers every little detail about you. you mention how much you like a certain candy? you miraculously find those candies in your room. you tell him about an important event coming up that you're stressing about? he reminds you about it the day before. you tell him your favorite gemstone? well, you better believe that every piece of jewelry he gives you includes that gem. loki knows your favorite song, your favorite book, your favorite movie, and any and everything else about you that he deems important. you live rent free in his mind 24/7
loki loves matching with you, and he loves when you wear his signature colors. he's always complimenting you and your style, and his heart flutters a little when you ask him what he's wearing for an important event coming up so that you two can coordinate
i don't even think i can pick a love language for him, he loves giving and receiving any form of affection and you two are probably attached at the hip
HE WOULD PASS THE ORANGE PEEL TEST. loki is absolutely the type to lace up your shoes for you, making a corny joke about how he "doesn't want you falling for anyone else". he uses magic to help you a lot, and especially loves your guys' night routines
loki is nooot a morning person, and loves snuggling with you. whenever you both have to get up in the morning he's always pulling you back into bed, nuzzling into your neck and begging for "five more minutes". he's also always very groggy in the morning and won't remember most of what he does when half asleep. he's very honest as well, and says lots of sappy things whenever he's sleepy. on the rare occasion that you sleep in later than him, he loves kissing you awake and pressing kisses all over your fave!
loki naturally runs very cold, but doesn't feel cold if that makes sense. to you his skin is absolutely FREEZING, but he just feels normal. however there are times where he runs insanely hot and there is absolutely no in between. he's either freezing or burning up, and it's both a little sad and a little amusing. there are times where the cold gets to him and loki will be more clingy than usual, claiming that he needs you to warm him up. other times he will practically walk around naked, too overstimulated and hot to even touch you
loki is a lot more anxious then he seems, and will sometimes just freak out over little things when in reality its a bunch of big things piling up one after another. he never ever means to take it out on you, and even when he's reached his limit he would never hurt you, but it can still be frustrating when he gets mad at you for a simple mistake. he always apologizes and takes accountability tho, and is very careful not to hurt your feelings bc he's very afraid you'll leave him. PLEAAASEEE REASSURE HIM :((((
loki is very chatty and loves talking to you about anything and everything. from in depth psychological conversations to simple "how was your day" conversations, he just cherishes getting to be able to talk to you
nsfw
look me in the eyes and tell me he's not a switch. i definitely see him as being capable of both being a dom and a sub, and i think it really depends on your guys' moods
when he's a dom, i think loki can fluctuate on how mean or rough he is. i do see him being a more degrading or rough dom but i also think he can be a lot softer as well, and more of a pleasure dom. again, i think it all comes down to your preferences
when he's a sub, loki is definitely bratty. he loves being put in his place and getting a little roughed up, but there are also times where he just wants to relax and be taken care of. when he gets in his own head too much and is irritated after a long day he'll be a lot more pliant and willing to just let you take care of him. PLEEEASSSE praise him and pamper him when he's like this, he'll melt like putty in your hands
PRAISE + DEGRADATION!!! BOTH WAYS!!!! he absolutely has a huge praise kink and definitely praises you a looot during sex, but i also see him being a bit mean with his praise and mixing in some degrading words as well. either way he's a wonderful dirty talker and he probably has a voice kink too, considering how often he whispers in your ear (and enjoys it when you do the same).
i also think loki would be into bondage, again, both ways. theres something so delicious about seeing you tied up and squirming from just his gentle touches, but it's equally intoxicating for him to be the one tied up and denied any sort of pleasure. he gets really whiny when you don't let him touch you, and will probably start pouting and begging. tying him up is defff one of the easiest ways to break him
guys hear me out but a candle wax kink. loki is very respectful and will always ask your permission before trying something new, but he loves seeing you whimper and moan while he slowly lets a few drops of wax spill onto your smooth skin. he also will let you return the favor, and the wax often hisses and steams a bit when it hits his skin because he's so cold.
marking you is definitely very appealing to him, and it's pretty self explanatory. loki just loves marking you and being marked up by you. it satisfies his slightly possessive and jealous side, and you two always look like you've been in a fight after having sex from the number of bruises, scratches, and hickies littering your body.
another relatively self explanatory kink, but, hair pulling. he looooves it when you pull his hair while he gives you head
loki is a major tease, and he loves teasing you in public settings where you can't do much about it. it will go from subtle things like placing a hand on your lower back or caressing your thigh to whispering absolute filth in your ears and making out with you in the bathroom. he is always trying to rile you up bc he knows damn well that it will lead to a night of rough sex
we all know loki's a shapeshifter and genderfluid, so i absolutely hc that he can change his physical body to match his gender. if he's feeling more feminine, he LOVES when uou eat him out. facesitting is def something he enjoys and he loooves riding your face SOO MUCH.
loki is very vocal, he def whines and moans a lot. he isn't shy about letting you know how good he's feeling. he knows how much his voice affects you and will whisper the filthiest things in your ear between moans as you fuck him senseless
aftercare is v important to him, and whether or not he's subbing really affects how exhausted he is afterwards. if he dommed he knows he can be pretty rough and he'll run a bath for you both before getting a towel to wipe you clean and then carrying you to the tub. i also think he'd prioritize keeping you well hydrated and would get you some water and food after the bath. loki is very clingy after sex and would want you as close as possible.
when he subbed tho, it's a totally different story. loki will be a clingy mess from the moment you finish, just whining and cuddling against you the whole time. depending on how deep into subspace he is and how groggy he is, he might even cry if you try to get up (even if you're just going to get water or a towel or sum) bc he thinks you're leaving him :(. he's pretty vulnerable after subbing and will probably just lay with you for a while before coming down from his high. once he's mostly calm and cognizant, he'll def want to clean up pretty quickly. he doesn't like feeling sticky and gross and also loves bathing with you!! overall he's a lot softer after sex and generally just wants to be near to you
RAHHHH I LOVE HIM SMMM!!!! he's so silly lmao this post got sooo long 💀 i also lowkey feel like im shadowbanned or something cuz like all of my posts have been majorly flopping recently :/ maybe im just not in a lot of active fandoms idk but!!!! anyways!!!!! hope u enjoyed!!!!!!! PLEEEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR MARVEL, ATSV, OR ANH OTHER FANDOM I WRITE FOR!!!
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WIBTA if I said something sexist (being a woman myself) in this context?
This is a hypothetical AITA - I haven't taken action yet but I kinda wanna do this and I want to know if it would be an asshole move.
Hi, so I (25F) am autistic with sensory issues especially when it comes to noises. My life is relatively normal because even though my sensory issues can get bad, I am really good at masking. However, I never learned how to drive and I have zero intention to do so. Mostly because having sensory issues is something I can ""put up with"" but I know I would suck at driving and I don't want to potentially get someone hurt or killed. I trust myself with many things but learning how to drive is NOT one of them.
However my aunt (58F) keeps asking me "when are you gonna get a driver's license" anytime she sees me. I've told her many times I don't trust myself with that but she keeps insisting. And I know she's not trying to get me to drive her anywhere because she has a driver's license herself. My aunt has never been married and has no kids, and honestly I don't want marriage or kids either but the difference between me and her is that I respect people's choices (but I rarely get the same respect in return).
WIBTA if the next time she asked me when I'm gonna get a driver's license, I asked her "when are you gonna get married and have kids?" It's a sexist and cliché comment that most women get asked (including me) but since she doesn't respect my decision when I tell her politely, I'd like to let her know what she sounds like when she tells other people what to do, even if it means saying something I don't believe in.
For INFO, no, I don't live with her, I never did, so it's not even a situation where she could maybe suggest it so I would become more independent by learning how to drive. But I want to know if I would be the AH before taking action.
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kittyit · 4 hours
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one thing about alcohol that a lot of people seems to believe is that is makes you more fun and easygoing and likeable. it actually does not make you more likeable inherently, what it does is suppress the anxiety and self consciousness that inhibits you normally because you don't have the cognitive power for it to be running at the same time as yaydrunk.exe
now I certainly know people who have a lot of fun while drunk and are a pleasure to be around and it shows a different side of their personality. however, i have also known and observed many people who say "I'm so much better drunk" who have imbibed and simply lost all awareness that their behavior is inappropriate, obnoxious, annoying, insulting, selfish, or even straight up frightening
and this also goes for weed. "I'm just more social stoned" people often do not understand that just because you feel better (because you are feeling less) does not mean you're acting better and you have taken a hammer to the your brain's ability to perceive social information
I know this is a nightmare post for people who use substances to socialize but idk I think it's something to know. And again there are people who it doesn't apply to! also it matters way less if everyone else you hang out with is also not sober. get some sober people in the mix and they will be seeing and observing you with their non addled minds. which is also a reason drinkers/stoners hate when you get sober and will try to get you inebriated with them again as fast as possible :)
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