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#writing it allows for human emotions to be felt
jbaileyfansite · 10 hours
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The Wall Street Journal Interview (2024)
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The 36-year-old English actor Jonathan Bailey is one of Hollywood’s newest heartthrobs. From Shonda Rhimes's Regency-era courtship dramas of “Bridgerton” to the decades-long romantic-political saga of “Fellow Travelers” to the Met Gala red carpet, he has earned admirers with his goofy charm and deep looks of longing.“
Being acknowledged as a heartthrob is incredibly flattering,” Bailey said. “It’s a big compliment, not just to you as an actor but everything around you.”
It has been a life-changing few years for Bailey, a stage actor turned screen darling. After “Bridgerton” launched him to global fame, he wrote up a document with tips to help prepare his younger castmates for the attention their on-screen romances would earn. “I think it’s about how to approach the work in a way that allows you to feel yourself and grounded,” he said.
Bailey, who’s been acting since he was a child in the Royal Shakespeare Company, reprises the role of Anthony in the third season of “Bridgerton” this month. Later this year, he’ll appear as Fiyero in the film adaptation of “Wicked” with Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. He lives outside of London. Here, he talks about his favorite tea, doing gymnastics and the advice he got from Sir Ian McKellen.
What time do you get up on Mondays, and what’s the first thing you do after waking up?
I try to get up between 7 and 8. Then I try to not look at my phone, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. If it’s a good day, I drink loads of water, have a bath and then just get out because I need to get outside. I’ll go for a walk, always with my headphones. If I feel a bit excited or my brain’s sort of alive, I’ll listen to a podcast because that keeps me quite calm. If not, I’ll listen to some drums and bass. 
How do you like your coffee? 
I love tea. Earl Grey tea for me. I love coffee as well.
What do you do for exercise?
I’m currently training for a half marathon. Then I do gymnastics at a local gym with loads of lovely, brilliant people. I’m part of that community, which I’m very proud of. I do handstands.
How long can you hold a handstand for?
I’ve gotten up to a minute. 
Do you meditate or journal or otherwise practice mindfulness?
Walking outside is meditation to me. There was a Buddhist center I loved when I was living in London, and I’d go there regularly to learn the practice of meditation. I believe in taking bits and bobs that work for you. I do write stuff down in a book that I carry with me, lessen the load in the brain when I can. 
Do you have any hobbies or habits that might surprise your fans? 
Probably playing loud music and dancing around naked. 
“Fellow Travelers” follows your character, Tim, as he falls for Matt Bomer’s Hawk over the course of several decades, from 1950s McCarthyism to the AIDS crisis in the 1980s. How did you get into character? 
With Tim, I felt like there was so much understanding that was in my bones already just from being me. Understanding the character who you’re playing opposite is also really good. Me and Matt, we didn’t really talk about it but we had that understanding of the experience of what these queer, gay people were experiencing.
Beyond that, I think about my forefathers and what an incredible opportunity it was to an academic, hands-on research of gay life in America. As a Brit, there was so much to learn, so the preparation was kind of nerdy in that respect. In another, it was incredibly emotional and spiritual. 
You’ve become very famous for the looks of longing that you’ve perfected. Do you practice them in the mirror?
No, unfortunately, I probably practiced them in real life all the way through my childhood. It’s funny, isn’t it? I can totally understand why people say that, but I think maybe what fascinates me most about humans is there’s always a distance between what you want and what you have and who you are and who you want to be. I mean, if I’m still longing and 92 years old, then I’m going to be very happy. 
How did you prepare to model swimwear for Orlebar Brown? Was there any part of you that was nervous? 
I had been doing gymnastics, so the swimsuit-model aspect of it required a couple of weeks of doing more handstandy stuff. But no, I was excited. 
There were some cute photos of you and Ariana Grande released from the set of “Wicked.” Do you have any favorite memories from filming? 
I went to CinemaCon and it was the launch of all of us together. I watched the trailer for the first time, I’m so glad I waited to see it in the big cinema. I just watched Cynthia [Erivo] and I was, like, God, Cynthia’s just going to blow everyone’s mind. You care so much about her in it. And Ari redefines Glinda in a really fun way, it just expands. 
There’s so much love for the original material. It was really fun and silly and great. Jon M. Chu [the director] just mines the emotion and is quite sincere about the truth of what’s going on with the characters.
What’s your most prized possession?
My headphones. If I lose them, I feel crazy. But also in 2017—I saved up and it felt incredibly frivolous—I started collecting the Yves Saint Laurent love prints, the original prints of the years that my sisters were born because there are four of us. Annoying actually, one of my sisters was born in 1982, and I don’t think there is a print for that year, so I might have to do a stickman or something. 
What’s one piece of advice you’ve gotten that’s guided you? 
Always do theater. That was actually from Ian McKellen. It’s in my bones anyway.
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eponastory · 1 month
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The latest chapter was shocking.
Was this really planned out, or were you going for shock value? I almost quit reading it.
It's still good but that was crazy.
The answer is... yes. It was planned.
Originally, this was the point where we would finally have a confrontation with Aang. But I changed the outline because it made no sense for Aang to be on Kyoshi.
But, if you were paying attention, I was actually building towards this moment for a while. It seems so sudden because of the way I introduced it. And while I know readers my not like the serious topics I throw in, I do state that I do not shy away from real-world subjects. This also brings me to if the subject is brought up in the source material numerous times, then why do others need to shy away from it.
Through the first part of the story, the audience as well as the characters, are introduced to a bloodbender. The only things they know about this bloodbender is his names and the stories they hear about him from other characters. Zuko and Katara know only what Azula and Ila told them. Nothing more. So, because of this threat, Zuko thinks it's best to help Katara understand her bloodbending abilities better. Because in his mind, if Tulok can take Azula's bending away, he's a serious threat. The clues are all there.
So when we get to said event where they group sees exactly what Tulok can do, but he is long gone, they are just as shocked as you are. Especially Suki and Sokka. Zuko doesn't react the same way because he has delayed reactions. He's overstimmulated emotionally to where he feels numb and has to worry about everything external. So you are feeling exactly what they are feeling. Which is what I intended.
Trust me, I don't like writing this stuff as much as it looks like I do, because it gets me emotional, too. I use that to my advantage.
And for those wondering about the subject... it's in the realm of genocide and mass murder.
I did put a warning about it. So it was not totally out of the blue.
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sydmarch · 1 year
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yeonban · 2 years
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When  Pessoa  said  “There’s  a  thin  sheet  of  glass  between  me  and  life.  However  clearly  I  see  and  understand  life,  I  can’t  touch  it”...........  Shal  felt  that
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hotpinkstars · 24 days
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LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader
- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.
- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....
- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912
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When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.
“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.
“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”
You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 
“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.
“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 
You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 
You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 
You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”
He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.
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Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 
But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,
“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”
“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”
You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 
“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.
“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”
You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 
“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 
But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.
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hannieehaee · 2 months
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hi!!!! im wondering if you could do a story about idol mingyu, idol reader, and a story about how mingyu couldnt control himself after seeing his girlfriend perform a hot performance on an end of the year award show because she looked stunning, and he also then accidentally reveals their relationship. TYSM!!💞
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content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, established relationship, secret relationship, mingyu is a simp, afab reader, public embarrassment (not really), part of my lil idol!mingyu universe (even though ive created three separate aus of it oops), dry humping, penetrative sex, mentions of fingering, etc.
wc: 1429
a/n: thank u for requesting i love writing idol aus hehe hope u enjoy <3
original fic
masterlist
as a seasoned idol, mingyu was expected by now to have a pristine ability hold restraint in any and every public situation that required it.
there were certain ways in which he was expected to act while in the public eye.
for instance, he could never outwardly express discomfort at the few awkward fancalls he had to participate in. nor could he show dislike towards the few members of the industry he didn't quite get along with.
but above all, he was absolutely never to wear the lust he felt for you on his face in such a public setting.
especially not during an awards show that was being streamed internationally.
even more so while the camera was focused on seventeen for their reactions of your performance.
but mingyu was just a man after all. a man who was thoroughly and proudly obsessed with you.
except this was meant to be a secret kept between the two of you (and maybe a few other people you had let in on the secret).
so mingyu immediately knew he was fucked the moment your set had begun and you came out wearing the tiniest little number he had ever seen. it hugged your body perfectly, highlighting his favorite parts in the most delicious ways.
it might've been fine if that had been it, but your pretty outfit was also accompanied by the most sinful of sets he had ever seen you do.
watching you grind and twist yourself in ways that reminded him of the many hours spent between the sheets with you was just not something mingyu knew how to witness without it eliciting a reaction out of him.
and sadly for mingyu, his face told every single one of his emotions.
his droopy and lustful eyes said everything they needed to say on their own, but they were also accompanied by the constant biting and licking of his lips as he watched you.
the one thing he didn't realize, however, was that the camera had been on him that whole time, airing his reactions to your performance for everyone out there to see. it had even managed to capture the gruttal groan he'd let out the moment you started grinding sensually on the floor (in a fashion similar to the way you did to him so many times before).
it wasn't until one boo seungkwan kicked him from under the table to get him to react like something other than an animal in heat and clap for you like a normal human being.
but the damage was done, and now so he felt extremely self conscious for the remainder of the show, not knowing what type of rumors to expect to see the following morning.
for now, though, his priority was to catch you during the intermediate time between your show and that of his own group. fortunately for him, there was one group going between your group and his, allowing him a believable excuse to head backstage with his members and go astray as he looked for you before your own group had to head back.
without so much as a single word, he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the nearest empty room he could find, immediately locking the two of you in there as his eyes got a fill on you in your current ensemble; the main instigator of this whole predicament.
"gyu, what the hell are you-"
"no talking. fuck. please, just-" there was genuine desperation in his words. his frantic eyes showed how badly he wanted you, but he didnt even know where to start. so he let his body take control of his actions.
it started with a rough yet sensual kiss against your lips as his hands got a feel of your body. he groped and caressed every inch of you, his lust growing more and more by the second.
"made me make a fool of myself out there, baby," he grunted, lips now trailing down your exposed shoulder, making their way up and down your neck with wet kisses, "couldnt keep my eyes off you the whole time."
"g-gyu," you were defeated against him, allowing your body to be handled however he wanted as long as he kept touching you. he relished on this.
"they saw everything. the way i couldnt keep my eyes off of you ... the way one single look at you can get me on my knees in one instant, fuck", he uncovered as much of your body as he could, raising your skirt while lowering your shirt, "they all know how much i want you."
but you didnt process nor care for his words as he ground his solid member against your now bare cunt (sans some very thin seamless panties that accompanied your skirt), completely lost to the delirious feeling his cock gave you even through his pants.
he kept whispering in your ear just how badly you'd affected him just now, how everyone now knew how pretty you must look when you ride him – all while he hastily lowered his pants and moved your own panties aside, plunging inside as soon as you gave him the okay.
"f-fuck ... feel so fucking good, baby," he breathed against your ear.
he lifted one of your legs up, wrapping it around his waist in order to get a better angle as he thrust desperately into you. the praises leaving his mouth never stopped, only getting less and less intelligible as his arousal grew.
"o-oh, gyu ... right there ..."
"there? fuck ... baby likes it when i fuck her right there?", his taunts were followed by harsher thrusts, causing your nails to dig into his bare arms, "a-ah, shit! 'm baby's gonna leave her mark on me, huh? yeah ... go ahead, pretty. let everyone know i'm yours .."
"m-mine!"
"mhm, gorgeous, just like you're all mine," he opted to carry you now, holding you up against the wall as he moved your body to his pleasing, "fuck, wish i could mark you. show everyone who you belong to," he buried his face in your neck, simply opting to breathe in your scent as he landed soft kisses on the length of your neck.
"do it!," you begged mindlessly, "please? wan' everyone t-to know 'm yours," you babbled.
"fuck," he groaned before following your direction and beginning to nip at the naked skin of your neck. quickly he left a few blossoms of red on your skin, knowing that the moment you went out there, people would be able to spot a few from afar.
with his face buried in your neck, he timed himself so he could orgasm with you, having mastered the art of playing with your clit just at the right time to synchronize your highs.
mingyu stayed glued to you for a while, unwilling to let go as he panted against your neck, attempting to even out his breathing.
"how are you gonna go and perform out there completely out of breath and with scratches on your shoulders?", you giggled.
"i ... oh, fuck."
it was too late for him to realize that although you wouldn't be too scrutinized for your disheveled appearance due to your performance being over with, he, on the other hand, would still have to go out there and dance in front of a huge audience. the error of his ways was lost on him the moment he hardened under his pants at the mere sight of you dancing.
but hell, it had been worth it.
"baby, just ask your stylist for a jacket, okay?", you disconnected from him, knowing it was almost time for him to perform.
you pulled your clothes back together, wincing at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and grabbing some nearby napkins to clean yourself as much as possible, as well as him. once the two of you were presentable, you gave your boyfriend a kiss for goodluck and headed back to your seat while mingyu walked over to his members backstage.
though no dramatic dating scandal broke out that day, various rumors questioning mingyu's lustful eyes during your performance began sparking up, with some people making the connection in the timeline of his mishap and your sudden reappearance in the crowd, with a messy, post-sex look accompanying both you and mingyu.
despite hybe ignoring any and every article insinuating anything between the two of you, you had now created a subsection of fans who were dedicated to unveiling what they were sure (and correct) was a secret love affair between the two of you.
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Happy holidays! By any chance, could I ask for a HC where MC gets into an accidental baby acquisition trope and has to babysit with Azul, Sebek, Malleus, and Riddle?
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul is about to write a ransom note if this person expects to get their baby back. He’s drawing up the terms of the contract as you’re coddling the baby, knowing there wasn’t a point in trying to talk him out of it as he was already infuriated that he’d had this responsibility dumped on him randomly. He doesn’t get how you can just accept this injustice and you rolled your eyes at him, telling him most people didn’t spend an hour negotiating a deal before performing a task. He still doesn’t want much to do with the baby but unfortunately for him the baby is endlessly fascinated with him; they constantly reach out to grab at his glasses or his hair, and he’s quickly scribbling additions onto the bill in regards to smudges and emotional distress.
He does eventually hold them when you have to retrieve something (the other alternative being they took off into the lounge if he just left them on the ground which he knew would piss you off, and he especially didn’t feel like dealing with that) but he claimed he didn’t enjoy the time. The baby continued to poke and prod at him, with Azul returning the gesture and poking at the baby’s cheeks which only sent them into a fit of giggles. It almost got a smile out of him but he couldn’t take the hit to his pride, huffing and hastily handing the baby back over when you returned.
Malleus Draconia:
Please keep an eye on that baby. Malleus’ only interaction with human babies had been with Silver when he was just a little ball of chub, and with Lilia being his father… Silver was lucky to have survived his childhood but he had always been special. This baby was not Silver however, and while Malleus would never purposely put them in harms way you can see he doesn’t have the same gentleness another human might have with a fragile little baby. He doesn’t mind when you correct him on the proper way to hold them and listened intently as you explained some of the actions to avoid, like pulling at their little limbs or allowing anything to hit their head. He thinks this is an interesting learning experience though he’s not quite sure what he might need to know about taking care of a human baby, but it also made him happy because it meant you were spending time together.
The baby looked up at Malleus with wide eyes at first, having never seen a fae with long horns or a man quite as striking as Malleus Draconia. They quieted down whenever Malleus spoke to them, seeming to like the sound of his voice and babbling back when he stopped talking. Once they were more comfortable with him they couldn’t help but reach up to touch his horns which you carefully monitored, watching as they felt the new texture and making sure they didn’t yank at them (or his hair) too harshly. Malleus commended their curiosity and lack of fear, thinking it was quite refreshing.
Riddle Rosehearts:
You might assume Riddle would try to collar a baby who was crying incessantly or who wouldn’t listen, but he was surprisingly patient. He took offense to that observation as of course you couldn’t force a baby to follow rules, but you could try and that would matter more than anything. He thinks it’s good to introduce kids to rules as early as possible so they can start getting them into their little heads even if they can’t memorize them quite yet; maybe in the future these early lessons would prove fruitful. He’s patient but it doesn’t mean he won’t get frustrated, able to pull all kinds of knowledge out about babies but not knowing how to truly connect with them.
The baby does stop crying each time Riddle began to talk about the rules, and he even pulled out a book to read through to keep them distracted. He thought this was a good activity because it gave them both something to do, and the little one did seem invested in what he was saying even if they didn’t truly understand. He had never been read to like this when he was young and it sent a pang through his heart, wondering if things might have been different if he had a little more wonder in his young life. Either way, he was no longer the baby in this situation and all he could do was hope they were enjoying their time with him while it lasted.
Sebek Zigvolt:
You think there might be a competition going on about who can be louder. Neither one of them even seem to be shouting but the baby responded with the same tone as Sebek, and his speaking voice just had a natural boom to it. While he had wanted to run at first you had begged him to help you, and while that hadn’t done much the baby’s fascination with Sebek’s portrait of Malleus had. You think the interaction is the funniest thing in the world especially when Sebek tried to indoctrinate the baby into the Malleus Draconia club, holding the portrait in his arms while tears gathered in his eyes.
The way he lit up when he talked about Malleus was cute and the baby clapped in response to his rambling, urging him to continue. Sebek wondered if he repeated Malleus’ name enough if the baby might say it. You stated the parents might not appreciate it but Sebek said it was their own fault as they were the ones who suddenly left him with the baby; either way, they should be honored if Malleus’ name was the first word they uttered. The baby has not a single clue what’s going on but thinks the two of you going back and forth is hilarious, collapsing into fits of giggles each time Sebek made a new face at you trying to reign in his Malleus obsession.
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alargehunkofdebris · 9 months
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Aziraphale’s reaction to the kiss: A Breakdown (that’s it that’s the reaction.)
A lot of people say that this anguish Aziraphale feels after the kiss is due to this feeling of “Why now? Why didn’t you do this before, when I wanted you to?” And I think that can be part of it, for sure. But man, that’s just one part of this gigantic, writhing ball of emotions in Aziraphale in that moment, all of them fighting each other, all of them painful. I’m going to breakdown the breakdown, because writing essays analyzing the minds of fictional characters is apparently all I want to do these days. Also, judging by this absolute nutball of a season that confirmed literally multiple “bit of a stretch” deep dives, I feel I can ignore that little voice whispering “this is silly” into my ear. I can dive as deep as I want, because there goes Neil Gaiman with an aqualung, swimming deeper.  
So. The kiss, and why Aziraphale looks so gosh darned sad about it. 
First of all, there’s shock. Major shock. Because despite everything, he still likely never thought this would ever actually happen. (Him and me both.) Or maybe – a small maybe, but a maybe that I might put a dollar on, if the odds were good – the idea of kissing Crowley never occurred to his conscious brain before at all. He’s so good at compartmentalizing and denying that it’s very possible he’s managed to nip every intrusive thought before it went far enough to be fully conscious.
Then, there’s fear of being seen. (“Who is watching? Will the Metatron see? He only allowed me to work with Crowley after he regained angelic status – if he sees me and Crowley now –”) Then, a layer deeper, there’s his ever-present fear response to things going too fast, because despite how we all know he feels, he’s still not sure he’s ready for any kind of partnership, let alone one this intimate and close. Because even for humans, this is a really, really big jump – we typically don’t kiss when we haven’t even been on a date (officially) yet, and usually not before both parties admit to their feelings.
Then, even deeper, is that anguished, heartbroken “Why now? My God, why now?” response, because his subconscious has always wanted this, but also knows that this is the worst possible time for it to happen, and now he’s lost that first kiss with Crowley—the one he wanted, anyway. The one that was supposed to be filled with joy, and is instead marked with the worst pain he’s ever felt.
Then there’s the second “Why now” response, and this is where I might be dipping a toe into the Hot Take puddle. Because I think there’s that knee-jerk fear response he’s yet to shake, and which overtakes his rational thinking whenever he’s terrified of Heaven or unsure of himself. It’s the suspicion he’s always held of Crowley. He’s thinking “Why now?” as in, “Is this the temptation that God and Heaven warned me about? Is this Crowley the Serpent, fulfilling his duty? Is this the true proffered apple, a kiss that’s meant to keep me from serving Heaven? Is he tempting me, knowing how I feel, knowing I’m weak?”
That’s the true anguish of this scene, I think. He’s fighting all these feelings, but on top is this old fear, this old anger and suspicion of Crowley, assuming he’s lying. Demons lie, Crowley admitted it himself. Crowley is the original Serpent of Eden, designed to tempt people away from God. And this feeling is what’s on top, because the alternative is…what? That Crowley actually feels this way? That Crowley, a demon, loves him, Aziraphale, enough to be this vulnerable, with no wicked ulterior motive? Aziraphale is a lot of things, but he’s certainly not a being who thinks he’s desirable. He sees himself as opposite to Crowley, and if Crowley is temptation personified, Aziraphale is then the personification of undesirableness. Deep down, this idea of the Serpent of Eden being tempted by him, Aziraphale, is simply ludicrous.
And then there’s self-hatred that he even thinks this thought of his friend, then suspicion, then fear again, then confusion, then anguish, then fear, then pain, and so on. All of this happens in a few seconds, and all of it coalesces into a singular takeaway: “This is the worst.” And because the one who technically caused it is Crowley, Aziraphale does what he does very well: he forgives Crowley, because he’s too prim and angelic to say “Goddamn you,” which is what he truly means. Goddamn you for making me feel this way. Goddamn you for making me doubt you. Goddamn you for forcing this option on me, when I can no longer take it, and when I don’t even know if it’s real. Goddamn you for putting this apple in my hands when we both know I can’t eat it. Goddamn you for reminding me that no matter what, it is not in my stars to live a happy life. 
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jennifer-jeong · 3 months
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[Fluff] [Genshin Men x Reader] What Made Them Fall For You?
Xiao, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Diluc
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CONTENT
Headcanons on what makes the genshin pookies fall for you <3 Fluff, gender neutral reader, men falling for reader, reader is not traveler but is friends with them, mentions of character's trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+
AUTHOUR NOTES
I hope to eventually write about all the men >:) it will probably take a while to get to it but I’ll try to keep each one short to encourage myself to finish them all hehe.
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XIAO
I think Xiao would start to fall for you because you see through his tough, mean guy act. You can tell that even though his words are harsh and he’s telling you to leave him alone, he’s just protecting you. You might not see it at first, but as you understand his condition, his karmic debt, you understand him. Your realization makes you feel warm knowing that Xiao is really just an innocent soul who wanted to keep you safe. He wants so badly to never hurt anyone ever again and “repent” in solitude even though he has nothing to really repent for; he was forced to kill by his previous master and his karmic debt only comes from killing the remnants of old gods and absorbing their debt.
You start to hang around him more as a result and, much to Xiao’s dismay, he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he actually enjoys how you reignite the warmth in him, the warmth he hasn’t felt in so long since his fellow Yaksha have passed. But did he want to let you in? Shouldn’t he push you away? He’s been alone for so long, why change that now? He felt like he didn’t deserve to enjoy company again, that he didn’t deserve you and your kindness. But maybe just this time… just once, would he allow it.
WANDERER
I think Wanderer would start to fall for you because you make him feel human emotions like he’s never felt before. He’s always searched for a “heart” in the form of a gnosis, thinking it would make him human and make him feel loved and wanted. But even when he had it, it didn’t feel right. Even now, with his anemo vision, he feels more, but still not what he wants. But with you, it feels perfect. Others would probably describe what he feels as something like “butterflies in my stomach” but since he probably doesn’t really experience physical things like that, being a magical puppet and all, he thinks about how you make his vision glow. When he feels a surge of emotions, it feels like he’s using his vision. It feels powerful, happy, strong, and warm, like how a light breeze feels on a sunny afternoon.
You know about his past, what he did, and how the world wronged him. He’s been so traumatized and can barely comprehend his emotions. So when you reach out to him after he regains his memory and a new anemo vision, you try to help him through his emotions in the gentle way that you do. You’re so soft with him and it makes his vision heart ache. He believes he doesn’t deserve you but you try your best to show him otherwise. As you two get closer, you never really notice, but the wind always picks up just a little bit when he sees you.
DILUC
I think Diluc would start to fall for you because you don’t just see him as “the young and rich son of the Ragnvindr family estate.” You see him for him: Diluc. You see a beautiful soul with a broken heart that has put up walls that he intends to never break down again. Others might think that Diluc is just cold, but you and the others close to him know that no matter how cold he may seem, the pure fire that burns inside him always spreads its warmth to those around him. He’s believed for a while now that barely anyone can see what he’s hiding underneath, that people want him for his money, his property, his material things. But you prove him wrong time and time again. You sweetly say hi to him every time you see him not because you want to put on a facade to get on his good side. You don’t help him break up a fight at the tavern and clean up after because you want a monetary reward. You don’t bake him an adorable strawberry cake for his birthday because you want something back. No, you do it because you care, because you have so much love to give, and Diluc feels so lucky to be a part of your life.
He feels his feelings grow for you as time goes on. He feels you getting closer and he barely hesitates to let you in. You didn’t break down his walls, you politely made a door for yourself to enter and it makes you both laugh to think about it that way. He stays reserved around most others but always holds the door open for you, physically and metaphorically.
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Thanks for reading!
Part 2 (will link whenever I finish it!!)
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|| MASTERLIST <3 ||
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celtic-crossbow · 7 days
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 30
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of afterbirth; Breastfeeding; Newborn bodily functions; Scars and allusions to past child abuse.
A/N: Fuck me sideways, I have struggled to write since all this shit in my personal life. This chapter is pretty boring but I guess there are some fluffy aspects. And Thumper gets a name.
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The tiny creature that had just been shrieking in Hershel’s grasp, was now rooting around angrily while you studied every perfect little inch of her. Her skin was pink beneath the drying, waxy mess of vernix caseosa—or whatever Hershel had called it—and blood. The old man had said if he had to guess, he would put her at about six pounds. Hilarious since she felt like she weighed thirty while you carried her. 
Her round little face scrunched up before she wailed again, disturbed from her meal-seeking venture by Carol leaning around Daryl to drape a blanket over her. When you looked up to smile at him, you found the archer studying his baby like he wasn’t quite certain about something. 
“What is it?” You asked, moving the blanket a little so he could see her better. 
“S’just—” He reached toward the bundle but withdrew. “Feels like—feels like she ain’t real.” You could see the tears brimming on his waterline, crystal droplets shining beneath the pale yellow illuminance of the van’s interior overhead light; how he would squint instead of blink in an attempt to keep them from falling. 
“Daryl, you—ow.” You placed your hand on your lower abdomen, finding it tight within a cramp even if the skin itself was slightly looser. 
“Ow?” Daryl appeared panicked but was desperately trying to keep himself together. He wasn’t doing a very good job. It was so odd to see him constantly grappling for control over his emotions when he had always—for the time you’d known him—been so careful not to allow too much to show. 
The veterinarian checked the cord to find it no longer pulsing. The contractions you were having now were mild cramps compared to before, Hershel advising you that you would need to give up your hold on Thumper to deliver the afterbirth. The archer watched as you handed off Thumper to Maggie. You wondered if he even realized why you hadn’t given him a chance to hold his daughter yet. Regardless, it was immediately apparent he hadn’t been listening in the slightest—
“Just an easy push, Y/N.”
“Wait! What?!” Daryl shouted. Meanwhile, you were clenching your fists and bearing down. It wasn’t the worst pain but considering you had just pushed a tiny human out of the same opening, you were a tad bit sore.
“Good, good. I can see it. One more push.” 
Daryl’s hand wrapped around one of your fists. You uncurled your fingers and let his slip between them. “See what?! The fuck she pushin’ again for?” The archer gave no time for anyone to answer that particular question before he was crawling and leaning above the space between your knees—just in time for the placenta to exit your body while you groaned through the discomfort. “What the flyin’ blue fuck s’that?!”
“It’s alright, son.” 
“It’s okay, Daryl.” Carol repeated. 
The archer had gone white again, swaying slightly and swallowing convulsively while scooting back toward you on his ass. You tugged gently on his hand before anyone else could interfere. “Hey, tough guy. Look at her.” God, you were exhausted but keeping your partner grounded was your priority. He had a baby to meet. Daryl’s eyes shifted to you and then behind you to the infant over which Maggie was currently gushing.
“She’s perfect.” The elder Greene daughter chuckled through her own tears. 
The hunter stared at Thumper, the color slowly returning to his skin. “Rick!” He belted out suddenly. “We clear?”
“All clear for now.” The former deputy called back, even though there was little more than five feet separating them.
“Good. Stop.” 
“Stop?” Rick glanced back over his shoulder, once and then again. “Shouldn’t we—”
“Stop the van.” This time Daryl barked the command, growing irritated. He gently extricated his hand from yours, moved toward the door, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. It was obvious he was waiting for the vehicle to come to a halt.
“Daryl, what the hell are you doing?” You queried while trying to divide your attention between him and Thumper being placed back against your skin. The baby began to squeak, working up to another bout of shrill cries before you shifted her, trying your hand at offering up a breast without any guidance. When her tiny mouth latched onto your nipple immediately, you felt a tugging sensation, but no pain like you had actually expected. 
“You’re a natural!” Carol exclaimed through her own tears and sniffles. 
Before you could offer comfort while the other woman was obviously distraught—likely reminiscing of the times just after the birth of Sophia—the van jolted to a stop and Daryl was opening the door, jumping out with his bag and crossbow, and closing it before you could say a word. 
“What’s happening?” You sat up just a little, your eyes wide. “Where’s he going? Rick?”
“Stay still. Relax.” Maggie cooed, dragging a finger tenderly down Thumper’s cheek. “Let her nurse. I’m sure Daryl’s got his reasons.” You nodded even though you weren’t truly satisfied with the answer. You were just simply too exhausted to think about it any further. Carol started handing Maggie blankets to roll up behind you. “We’re gonna getcha all cleaned up and as comfortable as we can until we can find somewhere safer, okay?”
“Just wrap this up until Daryl gets back.” Hershel spoke softly, placing a bloody blob of something onto a large piece of cloth before handing it to Carol. The sac was connected to Thumper by the slimy cord. 
“Do you think he’ll want to?” The other woman whispered. Sight and sound were starting to fizzle out. Your body was demanding rest, all reserves depleted. Thumper was suckling away, making the sweetest little snorting breaths between gulps. Maggie was wiping the sweat from your face and neck, sweeping the fabric back and forth over every inch of skin she could reach.
Hershel and Carol worked together to clean up the mess between your legs, the area swollen and sore and thank god you were so exhausted or that would have really hurt. When you opened your eyes again, you were covered with a blanket and Thumper was gone from your chest. 
“Thumps?!” You bolted upright, caught halfway by Hershel’s gentle hands on your shoulders. 
“She’s fine. You were quite out of it when she finished. Maggie tried to burp her but breastfed newborns don’t always need it. Now she’s there with Carol, getting cleaned up the best we can without warm water. The vernix caseosa can stay on her skin until she can have a good warm bath. It won’t do any harm. We just thought she could do without the other fluids.”
You nodded tiredly. “How long did I sleep?”
“Only about half an hour.” Carol answered, shuffling on her knees with the baby in her arms. “Rick grabbed the diapers from the truck and checked on everyone. She’s such a tiny thing, the newborn size almost swallows her.” She pulled the blanket away to place the baby against your skin and then covered her again with the small receiving blanket. Once Thumper settled, Carol pulled the thicker blanket over both of you. 
You felt your expression light up—casting shadows over your exhaustion—at the sight of that little face. God, she was tiny. The lack of blood revealed wisps of blonde hair, still molded flat in some places by the waxy covering. You could already see so much of Daryl in her that it—
“Where’s Daryl?”
As if summoned by his name on your lips, the van door opened to reveal the archer, clearly shivering. He tossed his bag and crossbow to the side and climbed in, rubbing his hands up and down his sleeved arms. He was clean, his hair wet while the strands appeared damn near frozen. His dirty clothing—vest and poncho included—was missing, likely in his pack. 
“Daryl Dixon, are you trying to end up with pneumonia again?!” Carol admonished. She shoved his bag out of the way quickly and tossed the last larger blanket around his shoulders. 
“C-c-couldn’a held ‘er like I w-w-was, right?” His teeth legitimately chattered, his gaze leaving Carol to look you over. “D-doin’ alright?”
You narrowed your eyes above the ghost of a smile. “Did you really go find a body of water to take a bath in the middle of winter?” 
“W-wouldn’a left ya but w-was d-d-dirty. Wanted t-to—wanna hold ‘er.” Once again, he was pale as milk but there was some color slowly seeping into his cheeks. Hershel wasn’t freaking out over his current state, so—contrary to the pressure threatening to choke you from the inside—you wouldn’t either. Daryl ran his tongue over colorless lips and ducked his head.  “If that’s alr-right?” 
Your mouth fell open, your brow furrowing while you blinked at him. Did he just— “Daryl, she’s your daughter. Of course you can hold her.” You were already moving an arm from beneath Thumper’s miniscule weight. When your hand found his, you pulled back with a hiss. “Maybe just get a little warmer first though, okay?” The archer nodded, but he still looked so uncertain. 
Hershel cleared his throat. He had remained still and silent throughout the exchange but then slowly crept down to sit on his knees at your hip. “In the meantime.” With a gesture toward Carol, he held out his hands. The cloth-clad placenta was placed onto his palms. It had apparently just been traveling around with Thumper wherever she roamed within the van. “Would you like to cut the cord, son?”
Still shivering but teeth no longer clicking together, Daryl’s expression molded into equal parts disgust and confusion. “The hell would I wanna do that?”
“It’s a tradition.” The old man explained. Carol was busy cleaning her knife with some rubbing alcohol. “It marks the start of life outside of the mother, when the father can begin to be physically involved in caring for the baby.”
The hunter brought his left thumb to his mouth, chewing on the side, granting a physical form to his inner anxiety. “Don’t it hurt ‘er?” You were curious as well, and you looked away from your partner to await the answer. 
“There are no nerves in the cord. She won’t feel a thing.”
Daryl drew back when Carol presented him with the knife. He looked to you. You shrugged a shoulder, careful not to jar Thumper. “It’s your decision.”
“Must be done. It doesn’t matter if it’s you or myself.” Hershel added. 
Lowering his hand from his teeth, Daryl eyed the knife. It was clear that he didn’t believe he wasn’t going to hurt his daughter. His thumb was replaced by his lower lip, jaw inching back and forth to gnaw at it earnestly. Without a word, he reached for the knife. Carol offered him a smile that he unsurprisingly didn’t return. 
“Where do—how does it—”
“I’ll help you.” The veterinarian reassured, balancing the organ on top of one hand while the other lifted the cord. “Right between the tape.” 
“Don’t that leave some’a it?” Daryl’s throat was visibly working as he swallowed. 
“That will dry up and fall off. I’ll show you both how to care for it until that happens.” 
The exhale was audible, undoubtedly something he didn’t intend but also didn’t take notice. Daryl’s hand was shaking, the blade carefully pressed to slice upward and away from the skin of your newborn. You held your breath, afraid any movement or sound would cause her to stir. If Daryl accidentally nicked her, there’d be no consoling him.
The cut was clean and quick, Thumper remaining sound asleep throughout. Your head tipped back against your pillow of blankets, relief flooding through you in a tingling wave that left you once again feeling wrung out. Half an hour was not enough. You wanted to sleep for days. 
Turning your head was a chore, but worth it. Daryl was ignoring everything that was happening below the two of you, his eyes dancing between you and his daughter. “I know.” You whispered. His gaze found yours. “She’s finally here.” He nodded, his lips slightly parted with words he couldn’t seem to articulate. “It’s a lot, Daryl. I know. It’s okay.” 
He was trembling, but you were certain it was no longer from the cold. His entire world had just changed. He was a father, and—judging by the look on his face, the turmoil in his pretty eyes—he was terrified. 
“Do you wanna hold her?” Your question was met with a sharp inhale, his spine straightening. 
“I—” 
You were already shifting the baby, shushing and cooing when she squeaked and stretched in protest. 
“You should bond with her too, Daryl.” Carol was sitting against the interior wall, looking her own personal sort of tired. “If you feel comfortable, um—” She turned her head to look away entirely, staring at the opposite wall. “You should let her lay against your skin.”
Bless him, he looked as though he might hyperventilate. “What if—she might—don’t wanna scare ‘er.” Daryl stared at Thumper, her little head moving back and forth as you offered her to him. You wouldn’t tell him the baby was too little to be scared. That would only leave him wondering if she’d be afraid of him later, when she was older. He was so convinced that his scars would make his daughter fear him. 
That anger you had felt before, the inferno of rage that had boiled beneath your ribs—it was back. Had they been still alive, you would strangle those people that had hurt him, scarred him so deeply. Beyond physical. But they were dead. And you were there. You would do your damnedest to show him a different perspective. That he was good and not a product of his father’s anger or his mother’s absence. That he was loved. 
“She isn’t afraid and she won’t be, not of you.” You vowed, pulling Thumper in against your own chest once more. With a hand then free, you raised the blanket and slid over with a grunt. The pain wasn’t horrible but you were definitely sore. “Get under here with me first.”
Maybe one day, he would be beyond the urge to hide that part of himself. Until then, however, you were more than content to help him find any measure of comfort you could offer. 
Daryl hesitated, giving you a quick once over. “Won’t hurtcha?” 
You smiled, small and tired but genuine. “No. Now get under here. Don’t make me drag you while holding a newborn. You know I can do it.” You challenged playfully. Maybe you could lighten the atmosphere. With a pfft, he took the blanket from your hand and shed the one around his shoulders, his eyes darting over to Hershel and Carol. They had knowingly turned their backs. You almost wished they would leave but having someone knowledgeable there was a comfort you weren’t ready to be without. You had no idea what you were doing. Once he was settled, you did your best to pull up the blanket until he took over. “Unbutton your shirt?”
“Dunno if—”
“She already loves you, Daryl. You were the one to calm her down when she was river dancing on my intestines. Just—try?” He sighed, his fingers slowly working open the buttons before stalling. “If you’re too uncomfortable with it, we’ll fix it, okay? I’ll take her and then you can put her on top of your shirt.”
The deep breath he took trembled but he continued until he could part his shirt enough for his chest to be visible. Even with only your eyes on him, he began to exhibit obvious anxiety. 
“It’s only me.” You whispered while maneuvering Thumper. He could actually hold her later, when there weren’t four of you cramped up in the back of an old van with stow-and-go seats. 
The man looked like he was two seconds from sliding out from beneath the blanket and bolting—until the moment the baby’s skin finally touched his own. His wide eyes drained of any trace of fear to make room for awe. 
“Holy fuck.” 
Watching him closely, those two words were meant to be part of the internal monologue he had going on inside his head. His calloused hands had never looked so gentle, laying across Thumper’s back. He immediately lifted one and placed the other there instead with the previous palm resting on her little diapered bottom.
“She s’posed to be this small?” His voice cracked. You turned onto your side, slowly and stiffly, while he silently let his gaze wander over to watch you move. Wiggling to find a comfortable position, you settled with your head on his shoulder and your fingertips brushing repeatedly over Thumper’s head.
“Hershel said she probably weighs around six pounds.” 
“S’that okay?” His thumb was swiping back and forth through the slightly darker blonde hair on the back of the baby’s head. 
“She’s perfect.” 
“Yeah.” He agreed, quietly. His head was tilted, angled to be able to see the little face of the human he helped create. “I, uh—thank you.” You lifted your head to stare him down, quiet yet questioning. “Y’know—for her.”
Your expression softened. Your hand lifted from Thumper to Daryl’s chin, guiding his head to turn. Stifling the grunt of discomfort that moving caused, you shimmied up just enough to press your lips to his. It was chaste but no less passionate. 
“None of that for at least six weeks. Minimum.” Hershel chided from the back of the van. 
Daryl huffed in annoyance, only slightly turning away to bark out “the hell’s ‘er mouth got to do with anythin’?” You laughed in spite of yourself, the action jarring and uncomfortable. 
Hershel even chuckled. “I mean no further, son. No intercourse. She needs to heal.” 
Damnit. You knew at that very moment, it would take you twelve weeks to coerce Daryl into actual sex. God, if your vagina wasn’t ruined after pushing out a whole human. Oh well, you’d be fine as long as he was still yours. You blinked, eyes glazed and thoughts wandering. He would still want you, right?
“Gotta make things weird, old man? Christ.”
Shaking your head, you pushed those worries aside for later. He was now warm and you had your personal space heater back. You molded yourself to his side and willed your body to relax. Daryl was there. Your little family was safe. Sleep laid its claim on you within moments. 
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“Claire?” You suggested. Your hand alternated between rubbing and patting the back of the frustrated infant on your shoulder, coaxing out a burp that vibrated your collarbone. Don’t always need it, indeed. While Daryl sat across from you on the bed, rubbing the length of his left index finger across his lips, you adjusted Thumper to the opposite breast. Her little fists were flailing, her face scrunched up and red. The little squeaks and grunts were aplenty as she worked herself up to a squalling cry. “Ssh, here, Thumps.” The moment your nipple rubbed against her cheek, the baby rooted for it eagerly, latching on and suckling with gusto. 
“When she scrunches ‘er face like that, she looks like Merle.” Daryl snorted. His expression didn’t show it but his eyes held a distinct shimmer of sadness. 
“Wanna name her Merle? Merlene? Marleen?” You almost cackled at the look he pulled. “Okay, okay. I said Claire, grumpy gills.”
“Nah.” He sniffed and briefly glanced toward the window. You could hear the van and truck rolling in, hopefully with more supplies. “Makes me think’a that ear piercin’ place in all the malls.”
You thought about people that you had lost. Maybe you could honor them this way. “Andrea?” Daryl snorted. 
“She gonna shoot me when she gets older?” He took a deep breath and balanced his chin on his right palm, elbow pressed into his thigh. “Don’t really feel like she should be a Andrea.”
“Patricia?” You pressed on, stroking Thumper’s cheek with a fingertip. “We could call her Patty?”
“No.”
Your aunt maybe. “My aunt’s name was—actually, no. Nevermind.” This time, it was you that snorted. Daryl shook his head before he turned it back to the window. Thumper had released your nipple, even as her little mouth continued to try and suckle. “Can you burp her while I get all—” you gestured broadly toward your entire self. 
“Sure.” He slid off the mattress and leaned down to take his daughter, so carefully maneuvering her against the front of his shoulder. You kept your sights on him as he moved toward the window, offering the baby a little sunlight. 
You and Daryl slept in the van until the current safe house had been found. No one even woke the archer to help clear it. Probably because Thumps was still lying on his chest. Carol had been the one to wake the two of you, sending you into the bedroom while she heated as much water as she could for you to properly clean up and then to give the baby a warm bath.  Daryl held your daughter while you wiped her down. There was a fire burning in the living room and though you could feel the house slowly warming, neither of you wanted to take any risks. You removed the little knit hat from her head and took care in wiping away the remaining film over her skin. Patting her dry, you replaced the hat and moved on. Each area was bared, cleaned, and covered. You couldn’t help but smile when the archer looked away while you removed the diaper. You made it all the way to her feet before she woke up properly and started trying to suckle Daryl’s thumb.  “Barkin’ up the wrong tree, lil’ one. Gonna hafta talk to your mama if you’re hungry.”
And now here you were, tucking away your tits into a nursing bra while your partner rubbed the back of your perfect daughter by a sunlit window. Thumper was in a light blue sleeper onesie and wrapped in a pink blanket— littered with little birds—to make sure she stayed warm. 
You didn’t hear her burp but had no doubt that she did if he was taking her from his shoulder to the crook of his right arm. From your vantage point you couldn’t see much but you could tell Daryl was talking to her. 
While daddy and daughter were occupied, you laid back on the bed and stretched tired muscles. Your abdomen was still swollen but soft. It was your lady bits that were hot and sore. Forget taking a piss. You had nearly screeched when Daryl had accompanied you earlier, leaving Thumper with Carol. You were bleeding but thank god, Carol had warned you and handed you a couple of pads before you headed out the door. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were standing over where you had urinated and it looked like a murder scene. 
“Jesus, it’s Nightmare on Elm St in my underwear.” You said as you rounded the tree. Daryl looked unamused.  “Ya gotta be so—graphic? Good lord.”
“Need to hunt soon.” Daryl spoke suddenly from the window. You sat back up with a wince just as he made his way back to you. 
“We have a lot of canned stuff. You don’t need to—”
“Doc said ya need protein to keep makin’ milk for her.” 
You didn’t want him to go anywhere. Logically, you knew it made sense. He was the only other hunter besides yourself. Canned veggies wouldn’t do much towards milk production and of course Daryl had asked about it already. Hershel had been pleased that Thumper was appearing satisfied with the colostrum you were producing, but she would need more even within just the next few days. 
“When?” You tracked him as he lowered to the edge of the mattress just in front of you. The baby’s little hand was curled around his middle finger and you weren’t sure he cared about anything else enough to divert his attention away from his newborn. “Daryl.” You chuckled. 
“Yeah?” He still wasn’t paying attention. 
“Purple because aliens don’t wear hats.” 
“Mhm.” Had he ever been this distracted? You called his name again amidst a laugh, each syllable bouncing. Finally, he looked up. Straight ahead first, as if forgetting where you were sitting. Then it was over to you. “You say somethin’?” 
“Welcome back.”
He mocked a laugh and then deadpanned. “Funny girl.”
Your smile remained steadfast. “When are you going out to hunt?” 
“Thought I’d leave in the mornin’. Y’know, stick ‘round to help ya tonight an’ make sure ya both’re all good ‘fore I go. Try to bring back all I can so that—” His mouth was still open, but the words stopped altogether. His brow drew inward. “Think this diaper’s toast.”
Oh god. 
The first diaper change.  
“Should I get Carol?” You asked in earnest. You had never changed a diaper before and Daryl had never indicated he had any experience either. Still, he shook his head. 
“Gotta learn sometime, right? Between the two’a us, how hard can it be?”
The answer: really fucking hard. 
“Daryl, you have to look!” 
“Don’t feel right to see ‘er—areas.”
“You’re her father and you’re trying to change her. It’s fine. You’re gonna get it all over your hands if you don’t look.”
“S’it s’posed to be that color?” 
“How the hell should I know? Can you hand me the wipes?” 
“What wipes?”
“You didn’t grab the wipes?”
“No?” 
“Was that a question?” 
“No?”
“Daryl.”
“Y/N.”
“Get the wipes.”
Twenty minutes later, Thumper was snoozing comfortably on the mattress, wrapped snugly in her blanket without a care in the world. You and Daryl, however, were staring at the small creature, appearing every bit as though you were trapped in the flashbacks of war. 
“I don’t think it’s supposed to take that long.” You finally commented. 
“Walker guts don’t even look like that.” Daryl’s voice was just as quiet and monotonous as your own. 
“It didn’t even smell. Shouldn’t it smell bad?”
“You’re complainin’?” 
“Touché.”
When Carol knocked, your heads moved in unison, two sets of wide, troubled eyes landing on the woman in the doorway. Her eyebrows shot upward, lowering slowly as she took in the scene: you and Daryl cross-legged on the mattress. Thumper just a few inches away. Wipes and a rolled up diaper on the floor below the foot of the bed. Her hand flew to her mouth, pressing against it to smother the chuckle that tried so hard to break free. 
“You two okay?” She finally asked, clearing her throat. 
“We look okay?” Daryl rasped. 
She struggled against laughter again. “You look like two first time parents discovering one of the joys of a newborn.” 
“We need help.” You were practically pleading, feeling horrible to ask it of the woman who had lost her only child. Daryl’s expression was just as desperate even if he would never grant it a voice. 
“Okay, let’s go over the basics.” Carol shook her head fondly and closed the door behind her. 
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Several feedings and diaper changes later, Thumper was asleep between you and Daryl. Night had stolen the sun and a candle burned on the bedside table behind you. She was so far a quiet baby, only crying when she was hungry and would squeak and grunt when her diaper was soiled. 
“Expressing herself in grunts and other noncommittal sounds. She’s totally your kid.” You teased.  “Shuddup.”
Daryl’s hand was on the baby’s stomach, likely just as much for his benefit as hers. He was dozing, making a valiant effort to stay awake with little success. You were just as tired but you couldn’t seem to coerce your eyes away from your partner and daughter. Daryl had been so attentive and tender with you while you carried Thumper but seeing him physically interact with her was an entirely different experience. 
Once again, it was likely something he would internalize but he was absolutely in love. That little thing lying between the two of you had already stolen his whole heart. If you had any doubt of his desire and ability to be her dad,—which you didn’t—that would be long gone now. 
When you weren’t nursing her, she was with Daryl. He talked to her in hushed whispers like sharing secrets he’d never speak to another living soul. And she slept or stared at him while he stared right back. She had the bluest of eyes but Carol said they might not remain that way. 
You hoped they did. 
When she looked at you, you could feel her curiosity and adoration. You were her mother and she knew. She knew your voice, your touch. She knew Daryl. Carol said Thumper could only see in shapes and shades of gray, but you didn’t believe that. Not for a second. They way she would stare at Daryl, her little fingers squeezing the edge of her pink bird blanket. No, you didn’t believe that. 
“Think I gotta name for ‘er.” Daryl spoke suddenly, words rough off his tongue, laced with exhaustion. You smiled. 
“Oh yeah?” You wondered if he was even awake or aware of what he was saying. His eyelids were heavy, flickering open every few seconds. 
“Yeah. S’okay if ya don’t like it. Don’t really make no sense.”
You laughed within a breath, reaching to brush the hair off his forehead. When he didn’t speak for a moment, you found yourself too curious to let it go. “Are you gonna tell me?” 
He took a deep breath, eyes still closed, with an mhm during the exhale. His index finger was gently rubbing back and forth over Thumper’s little hand while she had it fisted into her blanket. 
You almost moved your hand to his shoulder to shake him awake, but refrained. He was—like you—exhausted, and within that state, he was emotionally vulnerable. You almost felt as if you were taking advantage of that, but there was a realization that you wanted him to name her. So, you would wait. Let him sleep or listen when he was ready to tell you. 
“Birdie.” He finally breathed. Without opening his eyes, he moved his finger to tap one of the birds on the blanket. “Birdie Jade.”
You felt the wet tickle of a tear running across the bridge of your nose and wiped it away before it could sting your other eye. Sniffling, you ran your fingers through the hair above Daryl’s ear. His eyes finally opened, clear and sharp, watching, waiting for your reaction. 
You pulled back your hand and laid it on top of his, over the baby’s blanket. 
“Hi, Birdie.”
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cheriiyaya · 3 months
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From the start
Featuring: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, and Kunikida
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧How do they realize they're in love...?
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧Contents: fem!Reader, LIL BIT OF ANGST (not too much tho), first time writing for kuni !!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧A/N: Finally understand how gradients work !!
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Dazai Osamu
Dazai doesn't do love-or rather he doesn't do long-term relationships. He only ever has had flings, one night stands where he's in someone's sheets at moonrise and out before dawn. But that doesn't mean dazai doesn't want it-
The human connection that love brings, a sense of belonging that dazai has craved. The ability the feel as if he was apart of humanity, rather watching from the sidelines.
But at the same time, he fears such an intimate connection with another. They would be able to see pass the careless facade he puts up, they'll see every dark and twisted crack of his being. They'll know when his stupid jokes are a diversion, they'll know the truth behind his eyes.
But you were always there, and dazai couldn't shake the emotions you brought. He'd find you no matter where you were, as if a string pulled taunt guided you to find the other in a sea of souls. He's never felt this way, why does he long to be near you when his hear sinks and races with an unknown emotion guiding it?
So when dazai realized he was in love with you, it was because he felt like he belonged. and it scared him. He avoided you, but how could one avoid their home for too long without yearning for it?
He belonged in your heart, in your arms. Dazai belonged in your shared home. He could rest in your arms, free from the fears of knowing what laid behind his well-put facade because he allows you too see past it, and strangely enough-
he doesn't mind.
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Nakahara Chuuya
You were annoying as hell.
That's what chuuya always thought when it came to you- you annoy him and for no good reason.
How could you not? You cause his throat to go dry and his heart to seize up, you drown out every thought of his when you as so much as speak or smile at him. When you playfully poke him it sends a chill through his body and all chuuya can do it grit his teeth and look away.
How could he not hate you?
that's a lie. Chuuya knows he doesn't hate you, it's so obvious yet he can't seem to see what's right in front of him. but it's better to lie.
But you bring such a rush of emotions to him, and chuuya first thought it was fear. he thought he was scared of you at first, but he realized that it wasn't fear, It was love.
he didn't want to admit it, but when chuuya realized he loved you, it was because he realized how human you make him feel. weight of his title as the strongest ability user, or mafia executive or the vessel of arahabaki-
in your eyes, in your tender touch it didn't exist; he was just chuuya
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Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor let you near him at first because you were naught but a pawn. A chess piece that he could manipulate and sacrifice if needed, you held no sentiment in his mind-much less his heart.
But as the months of knowing you went on, Fyodor developed an interest to you, whether he liked it or not. Instead of giving you positions on missions where there was a possibility you could die, he gave you roles that were more in the back, more safe. Fyodor wanted to know why he was so enraptured with you, and what a fool he was for doing so.
His interest in you came to a point where he'd actively seek you out outside of missions. walking beside you as an equal and talking about regular things (which he strangely didn't mind), discussing books or topics that interested the both of you, and fyodor could feel the way the oxygen in his lungs was pulled tight as his name rolled off your tongue like it was the sweetest dessert you've tasted.
When he realized he loved you, it was because he wanted you to be by his side. You weren't a nameless pawn, you saw fyodor for himself and he had become enraptured by you.
You were the one who he'd fall to his knees to every night in worship, and there in the solitude of night with you his prayers were heard more than in any church.
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Kunikida Doppo
Kunikida is a man of schedule, of timely organization and a man like him has no tolerance for disturbances in his well thought out schedule- and life. Besides, he already knows when he'll find the one, and he knows when he'll slide a ring on her finger and promise his life to her in well thought out vows. Kunikida has already planned it out, he'll be ready.
But you came in and ruined everything.
Your constant nagging always frustrated him to no end, the way you were so unpredictable-
Kunikida went home everyday wanting to tear out his hair and with butterflies fluttering around in his ribs.
It didn't take long for his unsufferable brown-hair partner to catch up with the feelings kunikida didn't even know he had. The brunette would always point you out, giggling "don 'cha think she looks pretty today, kunikida-kun?" only for a hand to slap down on his pale skin, but dazai wouldn't miss the way his cheeks adorned a pink hue and how kunikida's eyes would linger a little too long on you.
This continued, along with you and Kunikida becoming closer. he no longer wished to tear out his hair, the butterflies who's delicate wings tickled his ribcage grew in number and he stopped growing irritated at lost time and messed up schedules if it meant spending more time with you.
That's when he figured it out. When he not only dug time in his busy schedule just for you, but when he no longer felt a swell of annoyance flood through him when you interrupted his schedule.
He didn't get frustrated with you anymore, and he didn't see you inserting yourself into situations as ruining his timeliness; rather you fitted perfectly into it.
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©Cheriiyaya 2024
748 notes · View notes
hsgucci94 · 11 months
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Sexy mama
« Would love one where y/n gets annoyed because Harry won’t have sex because she’s pregnant »
A/N: feel free to send in writing ideas for little stories you wanna read on here 💖 x
masterlist
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“Are you mad?” Harry rose both eyebrows, watching you move around the kitchen while he stood at the entrance, his shoulder against the doorframe. His eyes were scanning your every move, trying to learn and decode the situation he himself got trapped in a few minutes back. “Love…, c’mon,” he softly called, voice calm but beseeching. He took a step forward, his sock-covered feet now on the the cold tile of your kitchen space.
You didn’t turn to him or react to his words. You acted as if his presence couldn’t be felt, when in reality every part of your body heated right away whenever he was around. Didn’t matter if you were pissed at him and wanted to make him sleep on the couch that night; your body always ignited whenever he was in sight.
Specially these days, when your hormones were hectic…, over the roof. You just couldn’t manage them, and the only thing, the only person who could put them to rest refused to help.
Harry sighed, seeing as you weren’t addressing him at all. “Silence treatment? Is that what I get?”
He then felt brave enough to take another step in your direction, head tilting to the side to try see your countenance and read the emotions spread all over it. But nothing. You had that stoic face that blocked your thoughts and feeling from being perceived by anyone else. And he hated it. Hated not being able to decode you and find out what was going on inside your head.
The room went quiet again, the crunch of the knife as you chopped vegetables being the only sound. And it started to drive him crazy. Chop after chop after chop he became more anxious and worried.
As if there wasn’t any sign before, now it was even more clear you were annoyed by his previous actions.
He passed a hand through his curls, tugging slightly at them to relieve some tension. His eyes scanned you once again before breaking the space between your bodies and walking over to you. He stopped right in front of you, his hips resting against the countertop next to where you were dinner prepping, his arms loosely crossed over his chest.
“Y/N…”
“No,” you warned him before he could go on, eyes never leaving the food in front of you. “If you think I look fat and unattractive right now you can just say it, you know? No need to bullshit me like that.”
You spat the words like venom, like they had been resting in you tongue for sometime now before you had the courage to finally spill them out.
“Hey. Hold on,” Harry reacted, brows pinched together as the frown in his forehead grew stronger. “None of that, Y/N. What the fuck? How can you even suggest that?”
He ventured forward, forcing himself in your line of vision. “Look at me,” he asked, resting a hand over the one you were using to cut the food, wanting you to stop and focus solely on him, “Where’s all this coming from? You can’t just say it and keep on like nothing happened. Talk to me. What’s going on right now?”
Your lip trembled, and you blinked three times as soon as you felt water in your eyes. Your facade fell down completely. You no longer could keep your feelings hidden, in place.
You took a deep breath before looking up at him, his eyes worriedly scanning your features the moment you allowed him to.
“You think I don’t notice?,” you mumbled, “You think I don’t know I look nothing like I did seven months ago?”
His frown accentuated in more confusion.
“You’re pregnant, Y/N,” he stated matter of fact, bringing his hand to your cheek and caressing it, capturing with his thumb the tear that escaped from the corner of your eye. “You’re growing a human being inside you. That’s our baby right there, mama.”
His free hand went to rest on your belly, sweetly stroking it over his t-shirt. Your clothes didn’t fit anymore, so you borrowed his to walk around comfortably. And he didn’t mind. Didn’t mind back then when you wore them just because you wanted to feel him close, and didn’t mind now that it was the only thing that fitted the body of the woman he loved the most.
In fact, he’d never mind. There was nothing as sexy as seeing you in his clothes.
“I know,” you gulped, trying to swallow your need to cry, “But I don’t feel like myself at all. I can’t recognise my body anymore, and the hormones aren’t helping. One second I’m a crying mess and the next a horny teenager. And you don’t even wanna touch me, Harry.”
He felt his heart clenching at your raw confession; at your now no longer hidden insecurities you’d managed to keep to yourself for God knows how long.
“Is that what this is about?,” his voice low as he spoke every word carefully, “I made you feel like that? You think I’m not attracted to you anymore because you’re pregnant? Fuck, no, Y/N. Never.”
“Then?,” you whispered. If you spoke any louder you feared your voice would tremble and you’d break down in front of him. Not that he hadn’t seeing you like that before, but you felt overwhelmed enough and didn’t want to add more fuel to the already existing pile of bitter emotions burning inside you.
Your gaze fell down to the floor, but couldn’t even see it because of the size of your belly. It had gotten so big in the last few weeks you couldn’t put shoes on by yourself. God, you couldn’t even get up from the bed without a helping hand.
Harry cupped your face between his hands, thumbs purposely rubbing your cheeks in tender, sweet strokes. “Listen to me, mama. Pregnant or not, you’re sexy as fuck.” His eyes searched for yours, anxiously wanting for you to believe him. Pleading you to take his words and engrave them in your brain forever. “If I’ve been avoiding you in that sense is only because I don’t wanna hurt you. I’m scared I’m gonna make a wrong move and hurt any of you. I know you’ve been in a lot of physical pain lately and I don’t wanna cause you more, love. That’s all. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you, I swear. Pregnant or not you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
His words flew out of his lips hurriedly, as if he was fighting against your mind to see what words you would hang onto first. What words you’d end up believing: your husband’s or those of your treacherous subconscious.
You bit hard the inside of your cheek as you looked up to the ceiling internally begging your tears to evaporate. They were already stinging your eyes, and soon enough ran down your cheeks without your permission, soaking your cheeks and Harry’s fingers.
“Ah, shit. The goddamn hormones,” you groaned in between quiet sobs.
Your husband let out a soft chuckle, his eyes glistening in adoration for you, “C’mere…”
He pulled you to him after drying your tears off with his fingertips, your body resting in between his parted legs while his hands entwined in your back to keep you glued to him. He rested his forehead against yours, and you closed your eyes allowing yourself to embrace the peace he always transmitted you.
“I love you,” Harry reminded you.
“I love you more.”
“Nuh.”
You giggled. “But it’s only fair. There are two hearts inside of me right now, both of them beating with love for you.”
The corners of his mouth widen to form the biggest smile, his dimples and bunny teeth showing, his eyes sparkling happily.
And then it clicked. You understood everything you both wanted and needed was right there.
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masterlist
1K notes · View notes
venuszn · 5 months
Text
☆ : Open When
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Summary / In which Bada writes you letters to read whenever you miss her presence
Cw / Angst, Fluff, Smut, Dom!Bada, Fem!Reader, Phone sex, ummm probably missed some, MDNI
Wc / 5.3K words
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Open when you’re sad
“Hi princess,
I’m sorry that you’re feeling this way right now and that I'm not there to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay. But I can and will tell you that with the words in this letter. You know that I love you and I will keep saying it till the words dry up my throat.
I wish nothing but happiness for you but I’m also aware that bad days are inevitable and that sadness is a human emotion, which like happiness, you should be allowed to feel in all its entirety. I know it's hard right now, but allow yourself to feel sad. You’re allowed to cry, you're allowed to scream and maybe even throw something (like a pillow or teddy - don't hurt yourself). You’re feeling down and that's ok, you’re human.
I know I always say that you're perfect (to me you are, you’re literally heaven sent you’re my angel) but to the rest of the cruel world perfection isn’t possible and so you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. I like to remind myself that sadness is an emotion. Its power is not absolute. It will come and it will go making room for other emotions such as relief, happiness, hope . . .
There will always be hope.
You are strong and you can take back control of your emotions. But allow yourself to feel them first, it doesn’t make you weak. It takes a lot of courage to face the raw and uncomfy feelings we have and I know you can do it. Go at your own pace and remember that your feelings are valid and that you are loved.
Especially by me, your loving and maybe a little bit obsessed girlfriend.
Lots of love,
Bada.”
A tear dropped onto the paper. You blinked and quickly wiped your eyes, not realising that your girlfriend's heartfelt expressions had triggered an earthquake of emotions within you. Bada knew that you had a tendency to repress your emotions. She knew that when you were sad you skillfully put on a facade, a mask, and played the ideal role of the happy easy going girlfriend. You didn't want to burden anyone with how you felt. You were used to dealing with it alone and so you always did.
But Bada showed you that it was ok to not always be ok. That you didn’t have to bear it all alone. You weren’t perfect, some days you fell back into old habits and distanced yourself from her as the exhaustion from faking happiness would overwhelm you. But she was always patient and waited for you.
She showed you that you could still be loved even on your bad days.
Sobs thundered in your chest. You gripped the letter as if the words themselves would slip between the cracks of your fingers and drift away into the night. Your face grew hot with tears and you allowed yourself to be. To simply be.
Bada wasn’t here with you right now but you knew her love was.
Open when you miss me
Gentle rays of sun shine through your curtains. It illuminates your skin as it kisses it with its warmth. You sit up and raise a tired hand, attempting to shield your eyes as a loud and unflattering yawn rolls from the back of your mouth. Your hazy eyes drift towards the empty space beside you. If you stare long enough you can still see the outline of her presence, hear the whispers of her slow words thick with sleep as she would pull you closer by the waist and join her lips to yours - the sweetest of good mornings.
But now those mornings were not a reality but a memory.
Mornings like this weren’t foreign to you. It had been a couple months now and you had grown used to waking up alone. You missed Bada and this was the first time you were both spending months apart from each other. You were caught between sadness and pride. Of course you were sad but at the same time you couldn’t help but admire the achievements of your girlfriend. Bada’s popularity had skyrocketed beyond the heavens themselves and many artists and idols were reaching out to her for collaborations and such alike. You had never seen Bada glow the way she did. Joy seemed to radiate from her and your chest could barely contain the swell of your heart as it pumped in pride for her.
That is why you smiled and swallowed the lump in your throat as Bada said she was leaving behind her favourite sweatshirt, “because I know it’s your favourite too”. It is why you insisted on driving Bada to the airport and it is why the both of you held each other a little tighter that day and allowed your lips to linger a second more. Bada knew you were trying to be brave for her but that wasn’t what she wanted.
“I’ll see you real soon. Four months will fly by.” Bada said as she gently rubbed your cheek with her thumb.
“I know it will. Have the best time won’t you ? I mean, you’re touring with an idol. That's amazing.” Your voice betrayed you as a slight quiver slipped through.
Bada’s gaze saddened. “I’ll try. You know I'll miss you right ?”
A sob threatened to rise from your throat and you tried to swallow it once more.
“I’ll miss - I’ll miss you more . . .” You choked out.
Bada wrapped her arms around you and brought you to her chest, your arms locked around her sides and you swore you would need to be pried away from her. Her head rested comfortably on top of yours and she squeezed you gently.
“I’ve left you something.”
You pull back and look up at her, confusion knitted your brows. “What do you mean you’ve left me something ?”
“It’s under the bed in a shoebox. And no, it's not shoes.” She smiled down at you.
When you got back to your shared apartment you searched under the bed and immediately found the shoebox. You scoff lightly with a small smile, not believing that you didn’t notice it earlier.
You remove the top and your breath catches in your throat.
A library of letters sat in two neat rows, filling the four walls of the box. You gently run your fingers over the edge of them, sneaking glimpses of the words written on the envelopes.
‘Open when you’re sad.’
‘Open when you need reassurance.’
‘Open when you want to punch your annoying coworker.’
You choke out a laugh mixed sob and tears threaten to spill. You wondered how you got so lucky to have someone like Bada in your life.
The morning sun had shifted slightly, its rays now painted your room walls a warm golden. Bada’s words stared back at you on the envelope as you traced the curves of her letters with your finger, following the path of ink as it journeyed into words.
‘Open when you miss me.’
And so you did.
“Hello my princess,
I miss you too. Very much. I know you’ll see me on social media smiling and dancing but just know that I'm always thinking of you. I wish I could be there with you right now, to hold you and kiss you. I’m writing this before I leave but I just know that I’ll miss your kisses. Of course I will. Kissing you feels like home and I’ll miss my home. Even now as I’m writing this I’m wishing that I was kissing you. But they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. My heart will probably explode from the overflow of fondness. However, I want to apologise in advance for how busy I might get. But I promise I will do my best to talk to you. I have no idea what to expect but I imagine there will be days where our communication is sparse. But always remember that I still love you and miss you.
Please take care of your health, make sure to eat your meals and go to sleep on time. I need you to be happy and healthy when I get back.
I love you and I am counting down the days till I see my baby again.
Lots of Love,
Bada.”
Open when you’re happy
The chime of the doorbell danced through the air and you perked up.
Your lips stretched into a smile as you bounced toward the front door, almost running. You were expecting this as it had become a weekly routine and truthfully, you were near enough befriending the delivery man who you were now seeing more frequently than some of your friends.
You swiftly swing open the door and your eager eyes meet the familiar smile of the old man but you couldn’t stop your gaze from jumping to the brightly coloured item that sat in his arms.
“Good afternoon to you.” He greeted warmly.
You smiled and returned his warmth, “Good afternoon to you too.”
He chuckled and outstretched the item toward you and you took it from his hold.
“Today's flowers are pink asters.” The man said with enthusiasm.
“They represent love and sensitivity. They're also the emblem of Venus - the goddess of love. Your girlfriend is putting all of us to shame.” The man chuckles and you watch as his crows feet deepen. You remember the way he praised Bada, saying that he has never seen such heartfelt dedication from a person.
Bada had scheduled flower deliveries each Monday because she knew that you loved flowers and also because she knew that you loathed Mondays - the man was slightly speechless. He called it young love and made a comment about how some people go through their entire lives unable to find love and that if you find it with someone - anyone - then that's a blessing you should cherish.
And you truly did. You now sit in front of the vase of flowers and you admire its beauty. If the stars themselves fell to the earth and sprouted seed this is what the result would be - vibrant hues and an explosion of petals. They were truly beautiful and your heart pulsed with love for Bada. She was your happiness.
Your gaze shifted back to the opened letter on the side and you read it once more.
“Hi baby :) Happiness looks beautiful on you.
You’re always beautiful but I love the way you gleam and radiate when you’re happy. I especially love your smile. I feel like everytime you smile a fairy is born. I hope to one day meet one of your many fairies.
But I digress, I’m happy that you’re happy. I wish I could see you and be happy right there with you. But feel free to send me pictures of your smile (many of them) and tell me in detail about what made you happy ! You know I'd love to hear all about it. I hope you continue smiling and I know that there are more happy days ahead for you. There definitely will be - you are an attractor of everything pure and joyful (and of me).
I love you lots my angel,
Bada.”
Open when you’re in the mood
You remember when you first saw those words on the envelope. You remember scoffing at your girlfriend, not taking it seriously. She was oceans apart from you, there’s not really much that she could do when you were feeling needy and missing her touches.
You thought wrong.
You also remember the way your brows twitched in curiosity and how you felt a subtle rise of intrigue within you at the two words written on the paper.
“Ring me.”
Though you never thought that you would find yourself in this position. The position being your legs spread apart, your two fingers stretching out your dripping cunt and Bada - on speaker phone listening to the entire thing.
“Keep touching yourself for me, princess.” Bada breathed through the phone. She had been instructing you on what to do, how fast and how slow, ordering you to not hold back your moans because she ‘wants to hear your pretty sounds’.
“Add a third finger.”
You’re not sure if its because of her words or because of how fucked out you were but you nearly come right then. You let out a shaky breath and slide your free hand down in between your legs, you spread yourself a little more, giving your third finger room to enter. The dull sting mixes with the sensitivity and pleasure and you hesitate.
“It only feels good when you do it.” You whine as you slowly push further, your tight hole sucking your fingers in.
“Imagine that those are my fingers. You like it when I finger fuck you, don’t you ? The way you cry out my name and grip onto me as I pound your hole.”
You grew wetter at Bada’s words.
Your fingers slide in and you begin thrusting in and out. A thin layer of sweat glistened your skin as you lay half naked on the bed with your eyes fluttering up at the ceiling. You did as Bada said. You shut your eyes and imagined that your girlfriend was there - above you with her slender fingers stroking your pussy walls. You imagined her kissing the side of your neck as she usually did, and then slowly making her way down to your chest. You imagined her taking your hardened nipple into her warm mouth, her tongue sliding against it as she licked and tasted your tits. Her free hand would then join, playing with your other mound of flesh as her mouth busied itself with the other. She would start off by teasing your nipple by ghosting over it with her thumb. She would then gently tug at it before rolling it between her fingers. You imagined her hushed words, saying something about how beautiful you were and about how good you were being for her before she would mercilessly thrust her three fingers into your cunt, her thumb teasingly brushing over your swollen clit ever so often.
The tightening of the knot in your stomach pulls you out of your fantasy and a loud moan falls from your lips. Your breaths pick up speed and a chorus of whines and whimpers flow from you as you begin to chase your climax. Your back arches and your fingers move faster, curling up as they rub against the top of your walls.
“Fuck - Fuck, Bada.” You cry out as you feel your legs begin to shake.
Bada lets out a breathless curse and you hear shuffling in the background and then a door shut.
“You coming, princess ? I wanna hear you moan my name.”
You nod your head, forgetting that she can't see you, coherent words fail to leave your mouth. Your body tenses and your walls contract around your fingers. Pleasure rushes through you and for a moment you swear you see stars. Your body trembles and your legs shake as cries and moans for your girlfriend fall from your tongue.
“You’re so hot. Fuck. I wanna see you, princess.” Bada says, voice dripping with want.
You lay breathless, fingers still nested in your aching hole as you slowly guide yourself down from your high with slow thrusts. “But you’re not - you're not in your hotel room.” You breathe out.
“I’m farther away from everyone now.” Bada said as she reassured you. “ I’m in an empty room. It's okay baby . . . Plus, this makes it hotter.”
You let out a light breathy laugh, “You’re such an exhibitionist.”
Bada chuckles, “So are you. Now let me see you, princess.”
You reach for your phone and accept the video call request. Bada emerges onto your screen and your heart flutters. You smile and bite your lip slightly. She was wearing her glasses and you had always had a thing for her in her specs. You gazed at her and the lazy smirk that sat on her pink lips.
“Hi baby.”
“Hey princess.”
Your cheeks grew warm and you looked away for a moment.
“Now don’t get shy on me. We’re just getting started.” Bada says with a slight raise of her brow.
“Prop your phone up against something. I wanna see you properly.”
You obeyed and you positioned your phone on top of the bedside table, angling it toward you as you sat with your knees together on the bed.
Bada drank in the sight of you, she licked her lips and you saw her gaze deepen.
“Fuck, you’re wearing my shirt. You fingered yourself in my clothes ?” Bada said as she leaned into the camera slightly. “You’re so dirty aren't you princess, such a slut for me.”
You nod and fiddle with your fingers in your lap. Your body burned with both desire and slight humiliation.
“Go and get my strap.”
Your breath caught and your eyes widened. “What ?” You say, unsure of if you were now experiencing auditory hallucinations.
“I want you to fuck yourself with my strap. Go get it.” Bada stated coolly.
You now found yourself in another position. That position being your legs spread apart, once again, but now with Bada’s thick strap rubbing against your pussy lips, your wetness coating its length. And Bada sat watching through the camera as she once again instructed you on how she wanted you to touch yourself.
Bada stared at you hungrily with pupils blown.
“Keep rubbing your clit with it. Just like that princess. Don’t stop until you’re dripping and desperate, just how I like you.”
Your mouth hung open as you sang soft moans. You guided Bada’s strap against your clit, now swollen, as you rubbed yourself along the length of it in desperate motions.
“Bada - Bada, fuck.” You whine. “I’m close - gonna come . . .”
Bada’s smirk stretches. “Stop.”
Your eyes snap to the screen and you blink furiously. “Pleas-”
“I said stop, princess. Be a good girl for me, hm ?”
You reluctantly come to a stop, your hips slow its pace and you remove the strap from in between your legs.
“As much as I love seeing you touch yourself in my clothes, I want to see your pretty tits. Take your shirt off.”
You do as she says and pull the shirt over your head, your chest now on full display to Bada’s eager eyes.
Bada lets out a breathless curse as her eyes roam your body. “You’re heavenly.”
Your heart flutters at your girlfriend's words.
“Now spread your legs for me and fuck yourself with my strap.”
You moved closer to the camera and positioned yourself in front of Bada’s waiting gaze. You leaned back on one arm and parted your legs, your aching cunt now on show. You guided her strap along your pussy lips coating it with your juices. You hum slightly and a whimper leaves your lips as you gently push in the tip of the strap.
Your eyes flicker back to the screen and you swear you've never seen Bada’s gaze as intense as it was.
“Just like that. Stretch yourself out good for me.”
You sink onto Bada’s strap and your cunt clenches around it. You begin slow motions of gentle thrusting and then throw your head back as you feel the tip hit a particular spot within you walls - cries falling from your lips.
“Fuck. I wish I was there, baby. Gonna fuck you into the mattress when I get back.”
And you knew that was a promise she intended to keep.
Open when we fight
It had been nearly a week since your last proper conversation with Bada. You were both busy and had been adjusting to the constant changes of time zone differences. It was becoming a little draining for the both of you but the daily little check ups and good morning and night messages cushioned the pain. It was the little things that kept you going all this time but you were beginning to crave a little more attention from your girlfriend.
Bada, on the other hand, was becoming stressed. Rehearsals were tough and the jetlag exhausted her. Simultaneously, Bada was also worried about you. She was aware that the communication between the both of you had dwindled recently and she knew you did your best to work with her schedule but she also knew that deep down you were hurting because of it. Bada was beginning to feel inadequate and she carried the blame.
That is why she regretted it as intensely as she did when those harsh words flew from her mouth that one evening.
“You’re suffocating me. You know how busy I am and honestly right now I need some space.”
Bada’s words were like ice to your ears and you felt the frost of her tone bite and sting you. You shivered, slightly taken aback by her words.
“Oh . . . Okay then. No worries, see you.”
You hang up the phone.
You stared into space for a moment. Numbness spreading over you as you swallow your sorrow.
Your phone vibrates and you force your heavy eyes to look over to it. You see Bada’s contact flash on your screen. You scoff and deny the call before putting your phone on do not disturb.
The moon peers at you through your window and you only hope that she’s gazing at you with empathy. She too was worlds apart from her lover, unable to meet. Tears brim in your eyes and you blink them away.
The sun rises and you soon follow. You turn on your phone and then turn off do not disturb only to find countless missed calls and messages from Bada pleading for your forgiveness. Your heart pangs and you decide to respond.
“I just woke up. Went to bed early last night.” You type and hit send before tossing your phone onto the bed.
You were still a little sad. You felt dejected and you felt unwanted. Perhaps you were a little pushy, but all you wanted was to speak to your girlfriend. You sigh as you stare into the mirror at your deflated reflection. A small box under your bed then catches your attention and you find yourself kneeling to pick it up.
Bada’s letters.
You had gone though nearly half of them by now but you had yet to open this particular one.
“I’m sorry.
I don’t know what we fought about but that doesn’t matter because I apologise for making you upset. I would never intentionally hurt you but sometimes I can be a dummy and I make mistakes. So I'm sorry baby. I hate seeing you upset or angry and especially if I'm the cause. I want to thank you for still staying with me all this time regardless. Everyday I'm still learning and growing and everyday I'm thankful that I get to do that by your side. We are two imperfect people but we make a perfect pair if you ask me. I know sometimes you also make mistakes but I forgive you. I will always forgive you. When we fight we showcase our room for growth as a couple and as individuals. We disagree sometimes but that is normal. There’s nothing wrong with you and nothing wrong with us. I still love you baby. I always will.
Lots of love,
Bada.”
Just as you finish reading your phone vibrates and you look to see Bada's name on the screen.
“Good morning baby. I’m sorry about last night. You’re not suffocating. I'm just really stressed right now but I promise it’s not because of you. It will never be you.” Her message read.
Your lips pouted slightly and you typed back, “I'm sorry too. I know I can be extra clingy sometimes. But please don’t feel pressured to always respond. Take out time for yourself too, it’s okay. I’ll always be here.”
On the other end Bada let out a small breath of relief and finally allowed her body to relax. She read over your words and her heart yearned for you.
Another message pings through and Bada breaks out in the first genuine smile that week.
“Btw your letter was cute. I’ll always love you too.”
Open when it’s our anniversary
The chime of the doorbell rang through the apartment and your brows twitched in puzzlement. You double checked the day - it wasn’t a Monday - so weren't expecting any deliveries. You also were not expecting any visitors. Regardless, you make your way over to open the door.
Before you stood none other than the delivery man. Who boasted the widest of grins as he held out a wonderful arrangement of flowers toward you.
You stand, mouth slightly agape as you take in the beauty of the blossoms before you. The sweet aromas danced through the air.
Today was your anniversary with Bada and you had both planned to video call later that night. You knew Bada was busy and that she was gearing up for the finale of the tour later that week, so you were grateful that she cleared out a few hours of her schedule to spend with you. But you had not expected anything like this.
“Your girlfriend really outdid herself with this one.” He chuckled as you took the bouquet into your arms, its sheer size competed with the top half of your body. You poke your head around the bouquet and you smile back. “It’s our anniversary. I had no idea she scheduled flowers for today - and flowers this big. I’m so sorry you had to carry this.” You say with a meek laugh.
“Nonsense. It's my pleasure.” The old man waves his hand, swatting away your words. “You have grown to become me and my wife's favourite customers - both you and your girlfriend. We’re honoured that she chose our small flower store and made all those orders. So please, it’s not a problem my dear. I hope to see you both around sometime and feel free to stop by, my wife would love to meet the lovely lady that she picks flowers for.”
Your heart warms and you nod your head, “Of course. I’d love to stop by. But I'll see you on Monday won’t I ?”
The man shakes his head, “This is my last delivery dear.”
You frown slightly and you feel your mood dampen. “But why ?”
“Because I’m back.”
That voice.
You step out into the hallway and your head spins to the direction it came from.
Bada Lee.
Bada walked toward you. Your eyes scanned her tall frame, her oversized shirt that draped around her body, her grey baggy sweatpants that hung from her hips and her wide and comforting smile that plastered her face.
That was your girlfriend. And she was home.
You ran towards her and she met you halfway, scooping you and the large bouquet into her arms before spinning you around. You laugh and you cry. Trails of tears fall as happiness overtakes you.
“You’re back ?!” You exclaim as you hastily wipe your face.
Bada gazes down at you with the fondest of eyes. “For now, yes. Happy anniversary baby.”
She leans down to gently press her lips to yours.
The old man chuckles in delight, “Congratulations to the both of you. I expect to see you both at my shop very soon.”
You and Bada grin and you wish him well after agreeing to pay him and his wife a visit.
Your head remains in a daze and you squint your eyes at Bada, unsure of if you were now experiencing visual hallucinations.
Bada laughs as she puts down her suitcase, “What ?”
You fold your arms, “You’re really here ?”
“I am.”
“You said next week.”
“I might have told a little white lie . . .”
You whine and gently smack her arm causing her to laugh even more.
“And all those flowers you’ve been sending . . . and the letters ?” You pout slightly. “I don’t deserve you.”
Bada steps closer and takes your chin between her thumb and index. “You deserve everything and more. There was no way I wasn’t going to see you on our two year anniversary. I planned to be here from the very start.”
You look up at her and you hold her gaze. “You did ?”
Bada hums. “I did. However, I'll be catching a flight back tomorrow but by the end of the week I'll be home for good.”
You nod your head in understanding and Bada smiles down at you before leaning in to bridge the gap between your lips. Your arms rest around her shoulders and hers on your waist, her grip firm as she gently caresses your skin with her thumb. You part your lips and tilt your head, Bada hums against your mouth before slipping her tongue through your lips - deepening the kiss.
Moments pass and you are forced to come up for air. Bada then rests her forehead against yours.
“You read today's letter yet ?” She mutters softly.
You gently shake your head, “Not yet. I was about to but then the doorbell rang.”
Bada smiled and took your hand into hers.
“Perfect.”
Bada now sat beside you on the bed with the letter in hand.
She began to read.
“To my princess, my baby, my best friend and to the love of my life,
Happy Second Anniversary <3
Happy 730 days of us and of our love. These 730 days are just the beginning because I know that we have a lifetime ahead of us. Thank you for staying with me, for being with me despite my shortcomings. Thank you for being my best friend, my confidant and thank you for loving me back.
You truly are an angel walking this earth and I sometimes wonder if heaven misses you. I’m prepared to put up a fight because now that I have you - not even Zeus himself could pry me away from you. Nothing on earth nor in the heavens above could taint the love that I have for you. Know that my heart belongs to you and that I am ready to cross whatever seas that may lie between us.
I’ll see you soon my love.
Bada.”
You were at a loss for words and watched as Bada neatly folded the letter and placed it back into its envelope. She then looked at you and gently took your hand intertwining your fingers.
“I love you so much.” You whisper, afraid that your voice would fail you.
“I love you more my princess.” Bada pulled you closer and then set you on her lap.
You gaze down at her and she peers up at you, her fingers ghost over your thigh, tracing lazy shapes over the fabric covering your skin. Sparks of electricity shoot through you and you lick your lips slightly. Bada’s gaze intensifies. Her hands now slowly creep up your shirt, your warm skin under her fingertips.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe out, gravity pulling you in.
“I’ve missed you too.” Bada’s hands lingered as they explored the familiar territory that was your curves.
You shudder and your breath picks up.
“Wanna show me how much ?” You say softly.
Bada’s lips stretched into a slight smirk but her eyes overflowed with love.
“Of course baby. I’m gonna take my time with you . . . Missed you so much.”
Bada kept her promise and she took her time with you, exploring the work of art that she swore had no price.
Your body, your soul - you.
Author’s note / Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3 Feel free to send me requests of letters that you’d like to see Bada write . . . Totally down to do more of those :3
Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight , @nimxie , [Open]
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bloodynereid · 6 months
Note
Hi, Jordan Li fan here again! Could you maybe write an angst/comfort fic where (preferably gender neutral) reader really likes Jordan, but because Jordan and Marie have been getting closer they’re scared to confess? So they try to distance themselves from Jordan and eventually the secret comes out? Bonus points if there’s some sort of panic attack + comfort in there :). Again, completely understand if not, no pressure. Have the best day!!
Whiskey in the Shadows
pairing: jordan li x gender neutral reader
tw: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide, death, canon typical violence ish, panic attack, kissing
description: jealousy is a rather stupid emotion that unfortunately you have to contend with.
a/n: hope you enjoy this one <33 i literally wrote it out in like less than an hour and i'm actually happy with the result so yayyy. requests are open as always and yeah don't have much else to say.
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Life at God U was something you had to adjust to over the years. It was completely different from the time you spent in high school but it definitely felt way better to be surrounded by supes, not just humans who constantly pushed you away because you were ‘different’. A plus was definitely being in the top 10, which meant you had extra privileges the other students didn’t have. One was your friend group.
You first met Luke in the first week of school. You were both taking the same mandatory intro to marketing seminar and were paired up together to make a sales pitch for a product that could combine both of your powers. God, that day was almost as vivid as if you were living it right now.
“Hi.” You jumped slightly and looked up from your notes to see a tall blonde guy standing in front of your spot. 
“Uh hi.”
“You want to be my partner?” You scanned the room and saw that everyone had already paired up.
“Sure, I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” He was about to set down his bag when he realized the mess that surrounded you was going to make that difficult.
“Right, shit. Let me get this out of the way.” You quickly took all the multicolored folders from the spot next to you and shoved them into your bag, Luke pulled out the chair and sat down next to you before pulling out a notebook.
“Why the fuck do you have so many folders?” Luke said as he watched you struggle to organize them in alphabetical order.
“This class is bullshit so I mostly spend time catching up on outside projects.” You say as you are finally able to fix all your folders and turn towards Luke who has an incredulous look on his face.
“Jesus, I guess I picked the right partner then.”
“Oh don’t count on me doing all the work.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He said with a smirk before he started to rattle off ideas of what your pitch could be.
From that moment on you two had become instant friends, eventually your little group expanded to include Luke’s girlfriend, Cate, who was probably the nicest person you had ever met. Then Andre, a legacy who didn’t actually act like it. Jordan was the last to join and all of it happened during one of your many sparring sessions with Luke.
“Ok come on you have got to be cheating!” Luke complained as you once again pinned him down on the soft mat. Your little spar was gathering some attention because the boxing ring was now crowded with supes holding up phones.
“Nope. I’m just better than you. Oh shit.” Luke took advantage of your distraction to grab your shoulder and flip you around so you landed hard against the mat.
“I win.”
“Fuck you.” You bit out before you used your powers to wrap and twist shadows around Luke’s wrists so he tumbled down next to you.
“Ok now that’s cheating.”
“We never said no powers.”
“It’s an unspoken rule!” Luke exclaimed but he had a big smile on his face as you offered a hand to him after jumping up from your own spot.
“Truce?”
“Truce.” Luke said as he smirked and grabbed your arm, allowing you to pull him up. The crowd around the ring started dispersing as you climbed out through the ropes.
“That was pretty fucking badass.” Came a voice from one of the few remaining spectators, you expected their voice to be focused on Luke but their intense stare was pinned on you.
“Why thank you. Luke’s an easy one to beat.”
“Hey!” Luke exclaimed in indignation as he jumped down next to you and threw you one of the spare water bottles he had. You grabbed it with one of your shadows and screwed open the cap.
“I’m Jordan.”
“Nice to meet you Jordan, I’m Y/N and this is Luke as you already know.”
“Hey.” Luke said as he did some kind of military salute.
“So what are your powers?” You asked when suddenly Jordan shifted in front of you. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s fucking awesome.” Luke said as he finished taking a long drag of the water bottle.
“If you’re ever up for a spar come find me.” You said as you checked the time on your phone and realized you were going to be late for class. “We have to go but it was great to meet you Jordan.”
“You too.” They said with a smile as you and Luke grabbed your bags from the floor. You waved as you went your separate ways.
“Someone has a crushhhh.” Luke said with a sing-song voice when he realized you were still staring at Jordan’s retreating back.
“Fuck off.” You said as you slapped his shoulder, making a booming laugh explode out of Luke.
Somehow you had managed to keep your crush on Jordan secret when you all reached junior year. Luke was the only one who knew and he constantly teased you about the situation, any time you stumbled over your words or got flustered in front of them. It just seemed harder and harder over the years to actually confess to Jordan. They had gotten so damn confident and like a thousand times more attractive - which is something you didn’t think was possible.
Everything sort of started to fall apart in your life the first days of junior year. It was like the universe decided to throw a wrench in your stableish life. Incident 1: Andre nearly kills a woman in the club you like to frequent. Incident 2: Luke’s nightmares get worse and he keeps having to bunk in your room because for some fucking reason he’s getting suspicious of Cate. Incident 3: Jordan is making heart eyes to someone who is not you. (not that you don’t like Marie but that was the problem, she was too damn perfect) Incident 4: Luke kills himself…
It was like your world was torn apart in the space of half an hour. Your best friend, who you considered a platonic soulmate and brother, killed Brink and then himself right in front of you. The last thing you said to him was that you loved him. Right after he hugged you as tight as humanly possible before flying off to his doom. He was fucking Icarus in that moment.
Incident 5: Luke has a brother, who’s somehow stuck in a fucking underground experimental facility in the school. Incident 6: Brink’s memorial gala…
You carefully adjusted the all-black suit embroidered with shiny black vines that you had gotten in preparation for Luke’s birthday… something that wasn’t even going to happen this year or any year for that matter. Fuck, not the time to cry. You mentally chidded yourself before assessing your look one last time in the mirror before making your way out of your dorm.
You really fucking hoped you wouldn’t run into Jordan tonight. It was getting harder to be around them… every time you saw them, they either started ranting about why Marie was around so much (you almost hoped they actually hated her for a second there but there was a certain spark in Jordan’s eyes whenever they spoke about Marie) or well yeah more complaining about Marie.
You had taken to spending more time alone, you still had a bad feeling about Cate and Andre spent most of his time with Cate so that left alone time as your only option. It had started taking a toll on you though. Mourning wasn’t exactly your strong suit. 
You stepped into the decorated hall and cringed at all the posters with Brink. You knew he was a good man but… Luke wasn’t fucking crazy. You had been trying to help him for months, he had a reason to do it and you were going to try to find his brother… as soon as this damn gala was over.
You picked one of the champagnes off of a random waiter’s tray and quirked your lips up. Time to put on a real fucking show.
The next hour was spent mingling and chatting up potential sponsors. They all seemed hesitant to even speak to you because they knew how close you and Luke were but you reassured them that it was nothing to worry about. The Vought PR lines left a sour taste in your mouth that by the end of the hour you were itching for something stronger than champagne.
Once you were sure that the bartender was looking the other way you extended one of your shadows and snatched up one of the good whiskey bottles off the shelf and into your hand. You fucking loved your powers so much sometimes. Happy with your little prize a genuine smile made its way onto your face. Only to fall when you saw Jordan directly talking to Marie. They were smiling softly at each other, making a knot form in your stomach.
You hadn’t cried since Luke. All that had managed to come out of your eyes was a single measly fucking tear right before blood rained down from the heavens. But it seemed like Jordan’s moment with Marie was your fucking breaking point.
A sob threatened to force its way out of your throat as you hurried towards one of the alcoves that you knew this damn place had. What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of brown eyes followed your rushed movements. The second you were cocooned in your shadows was the moment that the tears slowed and a hiccup left your throat.
Safe. Safe. Safe.
“Y/N? Look I know you’re in there. I know your shadows when I see them.” The distinct voice of Jordan Li permeated your little hideout, disturbing the peace that you had somehow been able to culminate.
“Fuck off.” You said in a strained tone, tears were threatening to force their way out of your eyes once more so you opened the bottle and took a long swig of burning whisky.
“Y/N… is this about Luke? Shit- I haven’t even talked to you- I’m so sorry.” Those last few words made the stupid little resolve you had left deplete so you waved your hand and the shadows parted like curtains exposing Jordan’s ethereal face which looked incredibly apologetic. She climbed into your alcove as you closed the shadows back up.
“It’s fine, Jord. You had your own shit to deal with.”
“No, it’s not fine. You- you’ve been listening to me rant about Marie and I didn’t even ask if you were okay. I’m a shitty friend.” A resounding pang echoed through your heart at the word friend. Fuck. Another swig of the fancy whiskey.
“It’s not about that Jord, I’m really fine.”
“You’re drinking whiskey… you only do that when you’re stressed and/or depressed.” It almost hurts to realize how much Jordan actually knows you.
“It’s not that Jordan.”
“Then what is it?!” Jordan almost yells, probably exasperated by your perceived stubbornness.
“I fucking like you okay? I’ve been in love with you for fucking I don’t know how long. So can you please just fuck off and leave me alone.” You yelled out, only realizing after you finished speaking what you had just said. Oh. Oh no. A familiar panic started to seize your chest. Shit, they were going to reject you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You could almost feel yourself drifting off to join your shadows when warm hands gently got a hold of you.
“Y/N, Y/N. Listen to me, you have to breathe. You have to breathe with me. Come on. No passing out on me tonight. You didn’t even hear what I was going to say. Hey.” Your breathing started to slow down as you listened to Jordan’s calming voice. They were slowly bringing you back to earth as their hands rubbed against the material of the suit, creating a calming pressure. 
“Sorry about that.” When Jordan realized I was calming down I saw a quirk of a smile appear on their face, her eyes twinkled in the dark with an intensity I had gotten familiar with over the years.
“You don’t have to be sorry at all. You get those often?”
“More now than before. I’m really fucking sorry, let’s just forget I sa-”
“No, nope. No take backsies. How the fuck did you think I didn’t like you, no wait sorry, love you back?”
“I-umm” You stuttered out as you looked at Jordan in awe. They loved you back. Holy fucking shit.
“Who came up to who first? I’ve wanted to ask you out on a date for years.”
“And why didn’t you?” You said as Jordan smirked at your renewed confidence.
“Because you are wayyy out of my league. I mean you are like the most incredible being to grace the Earth.”
“Ok now you’re exaggerating things, Jord.”
“No I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t realize I wasn’t totally gone for you before.” You let the giddy feeling of love spread through your extremities when a realization made you stop short.
“What about Marie?”
“Marie? What are you talking about?”
“You’re like-” You made wavy motions with your hands that had Jordan’s laugh resonating against the shadows, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watched them.
“Oh fuck, you are too funny, love. No, me and Marie are not-” Jordan repeated the wavy motions you had just done which made you smack her playfully. The movement had you shuffling closer to Jordan so now your faces seemed like they were only millimeters apart.
“Fuck.” You uttered under your breath as your nose skimmed against Jordan’s.
“Fuck is right. Can I- I umm really want to kiss you right now.”
“What are you waiting for?” You answered just as Jordan surged forward and your lips met in an explosion of sensations. You felt your shadows jump and play around you excitedly as you pulled Jordan impossibly closer by threading your fingers in their oh so soft hair. That decision rewarded you with a little whine from Jordan that had warmth spreading over your body once again.
Reluctantly pulling away you rested your forehead against Jordan’s as they smiled giddily up at you. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness and you smoothed the pads of your fingers against their cheek.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I really fucking love you.” You said as you looked into those brown eyes that looked just like the perfect cup of coffee. Inviting, warm and absolutely enthralling.
“I love you more.” 
“Always a competition with you Jordan.” You said with a chuckle, making Jordan laugh in response.
“Well you should have known what you were signing on for when you fell in love with me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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so... reader's powers in this one are known as darkness manipulation which are sort of like the darkling's powers from shadow & bone (they're suit for the gala is literally directly inspired by the darkling's kefta lol) also here's the link to the superpower wiki page if anyone's interested.
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I think I'll always be impressed by how excellent OFMD is at making Ed and Stede flawed in very realistic, relatable ways while also keeping them extremely likeable.
Part of it is casting - I genuinely don't think anyone else could play a better Ed and Stede. Rhys and Taika bring so much charm and likeability to the characters and they have an amazing chemistry on screen. It's incredible.
But the writing is so tight and efficient where this is concerned. Yes, we're shown Stede abandoned his wife and children, but we're also shown how incompatible he was with Mary and how he felt trapped and miserable. Yeah, Ed's a very successful pirate, but he has an extremely traumatic and nuanced relationship with violence and is actually really sweet and goofy. For both of them, the way other characters see them informs how they act. It's such good writing.
Stede can be selfish, and short-sighted, and overly hungry for the acceptance of others. Ed can be very emotional, and he can have tunnel vision, and he has no idea how to sit with his feelings. And we're consistently shown exactly why they're like this and we love them all the more for it.
I think OFMD is honestly an absolute masterclass in how to write realistically flawed but still deeply sympathetic characters. Both Ed and Stede genuinely try to do right by each other and by their friends, and their moments of character growth are so well done. Not a minute in this show ever feels wasted. They're allowed to have complex feelings, and panic, and make snap decisions that boil over after years of desperation, and they feel all the more human for it!
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monimccoythings · 2 months
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Human!Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Devotion
These are all part of the same AU, I suppose, or not. But I like to think they are all part of the same AU, sometimes I forget what I write. Now this are just some deranged feelings and thoughts of Alive!Alastor.
Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.
Tw: obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, mentions of blood, implied murder, manipulation.
tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog
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Alastor had never been a sentimental man. Of course he loved his mama, she was a wonderful woman and her death had definitely caused him a great amount of grief.
And then you came along.
Your soft skin, your chubby hands that tried to grasp his larger fingers to no avail, your wide unfocused eyes that darted everywhere, taking notice of everything. How delicate you felt in his arms, you fit perfectly, like you were made to be there.
How easily he could break you, he ponders. One little snap and there would be no more of you. It would be so quick and simple. There was only one little thing.
He adored you.
Your quiet little coos, your incomprehensible babbling that sounded like you were trying to carry an adult conversation with him, the way you squealed with joy whenever one of your favorite songs started playing on the radio. You were delightful, and provided him with more enrichment than any of the bumbling fools he usually associated himself with could provide.
As years passed by, you started to get bigger, your world expanding, your knowledge growing. And with it, came the risk of having you slip away from him.
He had modeled you to be his perfect little angel, his little fawn. His obedient child. He would not allow anyone to take you away from him. He was your guardian, your protector. Some asshole looked at you the wrong way while you two were going on a walk? He was never heard of again. Some low-paid teacher was becoming some sort of role model to you? Ooops! Accidents happen!
He found that his reasoning for protecting you was also a good excuse to indulge in his darkest desires. A way to calm the itch that was always nagging at the back of his head.
Alastor did it for you. He was making the world a safer place for you. No matter how much fun and enjoyment he got out of it. None of those buffoons would ever taint your innocence with their dirty souls. Not even himself.
He would take his secrets to the grave, always hidden behind a wide smile. he would be the good father, the charming radio host, the modelic citizen. The blood in his hands, as delicious as it tasted, would never stain your clothes.
No one would keep you two apart, he would make sure of that. He was all that you could possibly ever need. Your world started and ended with him, as it should be. Let him be the barrier between your purity and the rotten society that lurked outside.
He suffered everytime you were forced to spend time apart of each other. Couldn't you see it? Did you feel it too? Whenever you were in school or he was working, it was complete suffering for him! His fingers drumming impatiently on the surface of the table, counting the seconds until he was back at home with you. Only the mental stimulation that took directing, writing and starrring in his own radio show for which he held great passion and the delightful hunt his side job provided were enough distraction to cope with his sorrow.
When did he become so emotional? He should be feeling embarrassed of himself or at least be very thankful that his mask of sanity wasn't cracking with all those feelings. Instead, he found himself embracing them. He embraced the painful worry about your wellbeing and his influence over you, the obssessive and twisted love he felt, the need for control, to ensure you remained his innocent and good child, and the bitter despair at your absence that sunk into his heart like a knife. Only his little baby could give him such a rush.
He was sure that not even death would be able to take you from his hands. He would personally fight God, the Devil, and anybody who got in his way. Alastor would tear the fabric of reality apart just to get to you.
You would never run away from him. There was no reason to, as he had made you as devoted of him as he was of you. Or at least he hoped so.
Having you leave him would surely break his heart, as it would mean to Alastor that you had chosen to do things the hard way. But maybe, after a very detailed and complex planification on his part and some casualties orchestrated by him, Alastor might be able to convince you to return back home, with a grim reminder about the dangers of the outside world.
For there is no safer place on Earth than in your father's embrace.
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