#so now I hate work and I hate not being at work and it’s like ok so what’s the point??? what was the point of all that

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

You hate Logan but you have a child together

You had a complicated relationship with your Logan. When he first came to the mansion the two of you hit off immediately. The typical good girl bad guy dynamic, but there always a layer of Logan you couldn't quite get to. He wanted to be with you, but he didn't want to do the work in order to keep you. He struggled with being emotionally vulnerable and you were the complete opposite. You told him you felt, you spoke through misunderstandings with him, and you were always there to listen. To try get any piece of your lover that you could. But after years of begging Logan to love you, when you told him you were in love with him. He said he was not, and that was the end of your relationship.

Or so you thought. Because your relationship couldn't end that easily, but you discovered you were pregnant. Logan tried to make things back to normal, but you rejected him at every turn. He hadn't ever wanted to hurt you, but as he realized your unrelenting anger, he knew he did. He knew that you cried when you were alone, that you'd start going to therapy again. That being pregnant with Logan's child was literally the last thing he thought you wanted. Maybe before when you were together when Logan wasn't confronted on being a coward.

He calls this karma, watching you go to Jean and Scott for support instead of him. Watching you grow progressively more pregnant with his child, and he couldn't hold you or kiss you. Logan thought about leaving, it was he had done so many times before. Even when the two of you were together, he'd leave for long periods of time. Breaking your heart over and over again but coming back asking for forgiveness. You'd given him so many chances and he had wasted them on being a brainless dick.

Little did you know how hard it was not to run back to him, not to give him to his promises. But you couldn't trust that he was going to come through for you. You didn't have any doubts about your child together, you knew that you meant something to him. You'd hope that his anxiety wouldn't pull him away from his own child. Because you knew he'd be a good dad, the way he was with Rogue, always checking in on her, making sure Bobby was being respectful. He loved her like a daughter, and you only hopped he could love your child the same.

Logan was going to have to be a part of your life no matter what now, or so you hoped. There was a hope in Logan that when your daughter was born that you would accept him again. He'd plan to tell you he loved you, that'd he give anything to you, that he'd wait for forever. It took him 9 months to grow the guts to do it.

It was a no brainer when he had their baby in his arms, you laying in the med-bay, he'd never seen you so tired but so happy. "Y/n." He murmured, looking over at you with his soft eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you made eye contact with him. "I'm sorry for letting you down, I-I want to give you everything, I-I loved you for so long, I've just been too scared to say anything." He admitted, wearing his heart on his sleeve for once in his life.

You felt tears well up in your eyes at the pang in your chest, you shook your head as you looked away. "I-I can't risk it, Logan. Getting hurt by you-." You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I can't do it again, and I can't focus on you anymore and how you make me feel, I gotta focus on our girl, make sure she has the life she's supposed to."

Logan didn't say anything as he looked back down at his daughter, a shaky sigh falling from his mouth as he tried to keep the tears welling up in his eyes at bay. He didn't think he would cry if you said no, but Logan also thought you would forgive him. "I uh-I wanna name her Hazel."

"Yeah?" He grinned over at you, even just the slimmest of hope fluttering in his chest. You also spoke about his hazel eyes; it was one of your favorite things about him. Even if you didn't consciously pick it because of him, he had given him the glimmer of hope he needed to completely devote himself to you and Hazel.

Logan didn't confess anymore feelings or push you to be with him. But you grew rather annoyed by his presence always a reminder of something you wanted desperately but whenever you got it hurt you. It was like the apple that you wanted so desperately but everything was telling you to not grab the apple, don't eat it. Don't give into those green eyes and that handsome smile. Try not to focus when he was talking in that almost condescending way while his eyes flitted up and down your body. This man had no shame in showing you how much he loved you, by teasing, poking, antagonizing. But also being the first one to show up when you were overwhelmed with Hazel or you were just having a rough time. He didn't need to ask, he just did.

Being so agonizing good with your daughter that it was hard not to fold when he was such a good man. But instead of giving him a chance, you only pushed him away more, complaining about the littlest things and not giving Logan the benefit of the doubt. When Hazel wasn't around, it was you calling him some name and trying to start an argument with him.

But it was hard to act like a bitch when you saw your one and half year old on Logan's hip while he made her breakfast. It was his morning to take care of her, but you'd waken up early so you went for some coffee. "Morning beautiful." Logan grinned at you, you were suer he said those things to purposely piss you off. You ignored him as usual coming up to Hazel and kissing her cheek.

"Good morning love bug." You murmured to her, as she grinned over at you before putting a kiss on your own cheek. Logan gazed over at the two of you, imagines of you calling him that nickname, 'Love bug'. You'd explained to him how much that nickname actually meant to you, how it was favorite term of endearment. Something that you called him for a long time. He just wished it would be directed at him one day, one day he'd regain your trust again, right?

Logan wasn't a patient man.

But he was patient for his girls.

Notes: angsty moment here lmao got this idea last night just didn't have time to write it. hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a part 2

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland

[sunflowerreid]

“Please I haven’t felt you in a month” sub Spence! Love ur work babe!

I’m so sorry that this took so long but I’m back now hope you like it :))))) x

Finally - S.R

Warnings : sub Spencer, quickie, sex against the door, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), dry humping

Twenty three days. It had been twenty three days since you’d last seen Spencer. He’d been working a challenging case and had to stay behind afterwards to help with paperwork and to help the families of those that has lost loved ones. You’d of course spoken to him over the phone, helped him calm his anxiety whenever he was feeling stressed or confused but it wasn’t the same, you hated waking up alone in a cold bed. The phone calls were almost always cut short, Spencer had been sharing a hotel room with Morgan so your calls always ended up being interrupted by his snoring or complaining. To put it in simple terms, you missed him. His touch, his smell, how he snuggled up to you in the morning, you missed everything about him, big and small. Luckily you’d received a phone call from him before you went into work claiming he’d be home and waiting for you when you got home tonight. The relief you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced; since the moment you both became official this was the longest amount of time you’d spent apart from each other and you couldn’t wait to get back to him.

~One hour later~

He was home. The first thing you’d tripped over as you rushed through the door were his worn out, purple converse. They’d been chucked messily in the entranceway of your shared flat along with his satchel and coat. “Y/N!! Y/N!!” Spencer shouted, appearing from the bedroom after he’d heard the door open. “ANGEL!” You replied as he rushed towards you, arms wrapping around you, holding on as tight as he possibly could as he hid his face in your neck. “Missed you, missed you so much, love you” he whimpered trying to get impossibly closer to you. “I know angel, I know, never again okay I love you too honey” you soothed as you gently stroked his hair, fingers softly tangling in his curls.

His breathing slowed as his arms tightened around you, beginning to leave gentle kisses against the sweet spot of your neck. “Angel” you moaned as your finger tugged at his hair, bringing his head up to face you. “Please, please need you please” he whimpered as his hips began to grind gently against you, his head tilting back as he softly moaned. “So desperate for me angel” you whispered, putting your thigh in between his legs as his thrusts quickened. “God please, need you so badly haven’t felt you in a month” he sobbed getting closer to staining his boxers. “I’ve got you angel don’t worry” you reassured him, gently pushing his hips back and undoing his belt. “Against the door angel” you demanded, him immediately following your instructions as you pushed his trousers and boxers down together. His erection slapped up against his stomach, leaking, pulsing and as flushed as the rest of him. “FUCK” he shouted tears streaking down his face as you lowered to your knees taking the leaking tip of him into your mouth, tongue swirling against the sensitive slit. “God please, fuck please, need to cum please, PLEASE” he sobbed, hips twitching, thighs shaking as he hunched over slightly tangling his hands in your hair for some support.

“Alright honey, clothes off” you whispered realising how desperate he must be as he stripped himself of his shirt and with shaking hands helped you with yours. You jumped up into his arms as he held you up against the door pushing his sensitive tip through your wetness gently nudging your clit at the end of every thrust. “Alright angel no more teasing” you moaned. “M’sorry, gonna push in have to push in need to feel you” he begged, his ears ringing slightly. “Do it angel need to feel you as well” you whimpered slightly as he nudged the his thick tip inside. “FUCKK” he moaned as he thrusted inside filling you fully, “That’s it angel that’s it” you whispered head falling back against the door as he thrust up gently. “Please need to go faster can I go faster? Please baby please” he begged desperately. “Go on angel been so good for me” you moaned as he immediately pulled out before pushing back in. “God fuck, love you so much” he sobbed, head falling back into your neck as he thrust erratically into you hitting your spot every time. “That’s it angel so good” you moaned getting closer with every thrust. His legs shook desperately as his hips sped up losing his rhythm, “M’sorry m’so sorry gonna cum I can’t hold it M’sorry please can I cum?” He whimpered. He’d held on for longer than you’d expected, denying him would’ve been cruel. “Cum for me angel” you whispered in his ear. “YES FUCK YES” he screamed as he thrust one final time, his eyes rolled back as he shook violently against you. “Fuck angel that it” you moaned as you tightened around him, his orgasm triggering yours as you melted in between him and the door. “That’s it angel come back to me, did so well honey, love you so much” you whispered, soothing him after his harsh finish.

Hundreds of kisses, fifteen “I love you’s” and one shower later you were both tucked up in bed, legs tangled beneath the sheets as you slept peacefully for the first time in twenty three days. Blissfully unaware of the noise complaint currently being written by your neighbour. Nothing else mattered, absolutely nothing, he was finally home.

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader - A Little Birdie Told Me

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

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Warnings: Jealous Sylus, hints of mature themes towards the end

Sylus was fully expecting to get back home to feathers, metal and blood everywhere; what else was he meant to expect when leaving you and Mephisto together for a prolonged period of time. 

You two didn’t get along. 

Sylus knew this. 

But you owed him, since he looked after the dove you found, just before going away on a work trip. 

Much to his own surprise though, you didn’t argue with him when he asked you to check in on Mephisto; which naturally only made him more suspicious. 

You were planning something. 

He didn’t know what, but the mischievous glint that was showing in your eyes as he left, confirmed his suspicions. 

That’s why he was expecting at least part of his mansion to be somewhat trashed. 

But it wasn’t. 

There were no stray feathers. 

No shards of metal. 

No specks of blood from where Mephisto could have pecked you. 

There was nothing; everything was exactly how he left it. 

And instead of his home  being filled with the sound of yours and Mephistos petty squabbles, something that he’d gotten quite used to recently, his home was silent. 

‘Maybe Luke and Kieran were right,’ he thought to himself, hanging his leather jacket on the coat hook by his front door, thinking back to what the twins had told him a few days ago as he made his way down the hall. 

According to the twins, you and Mephisto were getting along fine; more than fine in fact, according to them you two were almost inseparable, like you were friends. 

But that was a ridiculous thought, you two didn’t get along, you’d both told him that, which is what made the picture he got sent even more puzzling. 

The picture was of you, reading, as you so often do, but this time Mephisto was perched on the arm of the chair next to and your free hand was on his head, petting him.

Was that part of the reason he came back a few days earlier than he’d intended to from his trip?

Yes. 

He needed answers. 

Though it was also because that picture made him realise just how much he hated being away from you and how much he hated that he wasn’t the one being given your attention. 

Granted you could be a pain in the ass at times, sassing him at any given opportunity as well as always pushing him to do the ‘right’ thing…but he’d grown to love those qualities about you. 

You changed him. 

He knew you’d had an affect on him long ago, however it wasn’t until recently whilst he was away from you that he realised two things, 1) How much of an affect you’d truly had on him and 2) How much he’d missed everything about you; your witty and sarcastic remarks, the way your infectious smile could light up a room, the way you hummed  along to whatever song was playing through your headphones as you danced in his kitchen, completely oblivious to his presence. 

Everything. 

And now that he was home, he just wanted to see you. 

Needed to see you. 

That was the whole reason why he asked you to look after Mephisto in the first place, not that he’d ever tell you that. 

He walked into the living room, a soft smile quickly forming on his lips as he saw you fast asleep on the sofa, your body wrapped in the blanket you’d claimed as yours after a few visits, your music blaring into your ears at the loudest possible volume. 

Though Sylus’ smile faltered as he took a few more steps closer to you, allowing him to see his mechanical bird nestled in the crook of your neck, little satisfied coos left his beak as the two of you continued to sleep peacefully. 

Of all the scenarios he thought he’d be walking into, this was the most unexpected; a complete juxtaposition to what he’d assumed he’d be walking into.

He should’ve felt relief in the fact that neither of you had killed the other, but relief was not the emotion he was feeling. 

Jealousy however was. 

The same feeling that he’d tried to push to the side when he saw the picture from the twins

That’s how maddening his feelings were for you, only you could ever make him jealous of Mephisto. 

What had happened whilst he was away?

Had he somehow ended up in an alternate reality where you and Mephisto were friends? 

He shook his head at the absurd thoughts racing around in his head; but what he was seeing was exactly that, absurd. 

He wanted to wake you so he could get some answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, mainly because of how peaceful you looked. 

Mephisto though was different. 

Sylus had no issue in waking him up and thanks to the music you were listening to, you wouldn’t be disturbed by his annoyed caws once he was awoken. 

~~~~~~

Safe to say, Mephisto was very unhappy at being woken up. 

And his grouchiness was naturally directed towards the person who’d disturbed him. 

“All I’m asking is, what suddenly made you two so close?” Sylus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the jealousy remarks the crow was making. 

One thing was immediately clear to Sylus, Mephisto had certainly adopted your sassy retorts to questions. 

“I’m not,” Sylus denied; only to be mocked by the bird in front of him. 

He was becoming as infuriating as you were. 

“Are you two arguing?” You asked, your words catching Sylus off guard; he’d been so busy interrogating Mephisto that he’d been completely oblivious to you waking up or finding them in the study that they were currently standing in. 

“No,” Sylus answered simply, turning around to look at you. 

You were leaning against the doorframe of his study, your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze; it was like you were trying to read his thoughts. 

Thankfully, mind reading was not a skill you possessed. 

Much to Sylus’ dismay though, he didn’t need to answer you, because Mephisto answered for him. 

“Mephisto says you’re lying,” you stated, biting back the triumphant smile that wanted nothing more than to spread across your lips. 

Sylus didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that she understood the Crow now behind him, or the fact that said crow had betrayed him in such a way. 

“I’m aware of what he said, sweetie,” Sylus pointed out, his voice laced with frustration as he quickly shot a glare at Mephisto. 

He knew you were going to ask why he was lying and just like that, those very words fell from your lips. 

Once again, Mephisto answered before Sylus could even open his mouth to speak; before flying very, very quickly out of the study, leaving you and Sylus alone together. 

“You were jealous?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to Sylus. 

Sylus didn’t want to admit it, but you were annoyingly persistent when you wanted answers. 

So unless he wanted to be continuously asked about Mephistos comment (Which he didn’t) he had no other choice to answer your question honestly.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice low as you continued walking towards him, only stopping once you were directly infront of him. 

“Why?” You pushed.

He hated to admit that he was jealous; let alone saying the reason why…revealing how much he really craved your attention.

“Because I-” his words trailed off as he began to notice a playful smirk tugging at your lips, the realisation dawning on him in that very moment. 

You already knew why. 

This had all been some elaborate plan to get him to admit his feelings for you. 

“Who told you?” Sylus questioned, watching as your smirk grew.

“Who told me what?” You teased coyly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie,” he whispered, leaning down slightly so that his lips were brushing over the shell of your ear. 

His words alone were enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“Who’s idea was this, yours or Mephistos?” He asked, placing a feather light kiss just under your ear. 

“Both,” you breathed out; reveling in the closeness between the two of you. 

“Thought you two didn’t get along?”  He asked quietly. 

Granted, you and Mephisto had your differences, and you didn’t always get along, but recently you’d grown quite accustomed to one another. 

Of course you squabbled, but the same way someone would with a sibling.

You knew Sylus was going to ask you to look after Mephisto, because the crow had told you so in secret.

That’s when the two of you came up with this plan. 

A plan to make Sylus jealous. 

You were never one hundred percent sure of his feelings towards you, you flirted often enough, but some people just had that type of connection, it didn’t mean he felt the same way about you, that you did him. 

“Things changed,” you answered back, your voice just as quiet as his.

“Is it true?” You asked, changing the topic of conversation as you turned your head slightly, so now your lips were inches apart. 

“Is what true?”

“What Mephisto told me about how you feel about me?”

Being this close to him was torture for the both of you; both of you waiting for the other to make the final move and close the little distance that was between you both.

He saw the anxiety creeping in your y/e/c orbs as you waited for him to answer your question. 

But he knew that he could do something better than telling you how he felt, he could show you. 

And with that thought in mind, he closed the distance between your lips. 

It took you a few seconds to actually process what was happening; but once you did you wasted no time in allowing your eyes to flutter shut and melt into the kiss. 

The kiss started off gentle, soft, the two of you clearly processing what was happening; but everything changed when you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.

His hands found a home on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified.

“Does that answer your question, kitten?” He murmured, pulling away from you slightly. 

“I don’t know, I think I could use some clarification,” you breathlessly chuckled before his lips met yours again, obliging to give you all the clarification you needed. 

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @inlovewithsylus

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Listen, I love Fiddlestan as much as the next guy, but where did we start getting the idea Ford was cold and dismissive towards Fidds during their time working on the portal???

I could totally be wrong because I haven't read every single GF related thing (hell, my journals aren't decoded because I'm a slacker), but like??? The first time he saw him, he bought him his favorite snacks *and* a whole ass banjo and said he'd make it his mission that Fiddleford would be comfortable in his home.

They go adventuring together and talk about things like fashion trends and the future and go stargazing.

Ford is *so* happy when Fiddleford returns that he hugs him immediately. Abd then he feels bad that Fiddleford feels bad about his failing marriage that he throws him a holiday party even though he doesn't celebrate and hates the holidays honestly. And he put on Fiddlefords favorite song (which he despises and honestly? ME TOO FORD. I HAVE BEEF WITH THAT SONG) and drank seemingly spiked eggnog with him despite not usually liking to drink. So that he could make Fiddleford feel better.

He also just openly adores everything Fiddleford does. Maybe it's only in his journals. You could argue he doesn't say it out loud but, like, he exclusively describes him as impressive all of the time-

And I get where it's coming from in like a "oh he's a workaholic who has the pressure of Bill breathing down his neck that he has to be working on the portal 24/7." And like yeah, but in the pages he's a workaholic he's a workaholic practically begging Fiddleford to stay up with him because he loves working along side him. Fiddleford and him work *together.*

Like the page where they're sorta fighting with each other because Ford wants to work more its not "leave me alone Fiddleford, I have to do this" it's "hey! How come you won't stay up with me! Ugh this is so unfair that you're going to bed even though you know I plan to continue working for another hour."

I'm just saying if Fiddleford wanted to cuddle, I imagine Ford's response would be "Oh! Awesome, I love spending time with him 🥰🥰🥰" but he'd just end up using Fidds' back as a table for his studies. Or they'd do that thing where one of them is working on a desk and they sit on one chair in each other's arms.

And, while we're here, realistically? Emotionally stunted, slapped by more women than He's dated, "I can't cry in front of people, and the only thing I'm good for is my fists." Stanley Pines??? He's not cuddling shit. He's got that toxic masculinity ingrained into him. It doesn't matter how incredibly touch starved he is, cuddling is too emotionally intimate and "girly" for him. Honestly if Fiddleford tried to cuddle him he'd probably throw him in a headlock because he's also been on the streets for years now with people constantly trying to attack him.

And I'm not saying this to diss on Fiddlestan. Again, I *like* Fiddlestan! But when I read "Ford could never appreciate him like Stan could" I don't understand it.

They so clearly bonded well together, and if Ford truly was being an asshole (or not an asshole, but just generally unpleasant even when he wasn't possessed) the whole time, I doubt Fiddleford would've stayed. Nostalgia and physical attraction can only get you so far, and Fidds is already facing the horrors in Gravity Falls, Stanford has to be a hell of an amazing person to make someone want to stay. Like, he's a grown adult. Sure he really wanted to impress Ford and allotted himself to be "the tech guy to Ford's smarts" but if he wanted to leave, he could've. And there didn't seem to much keeping him there. Especially when he was having doubts on the portal.

[mischievousmoony]

Omg I love ur James fics. You think you could do one where reader finally feels comfortable getting drunk while going out with their group because she knows James is there to take care of her. Ur drunk reader x James interactions are too cute. I feel like I always have a hard time letting go cause I’m afraid I’ll need to take care of my other friends haha. Love your work!

thank u love! i have fun writing them, i just know james would be so caring! ps thank you for being patient ik this request came in a while ago

𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍

⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (i think that’s it but lmk if i missed any pls)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"But what if Sirius tries to get a new tattoo again?" you ask, twisting back and forth with a steady squeak, squeak, squeak of your barstool.

James clasps his hand on your shoulder, turning you one last time to face him. "Remus is watching him."

"What if Marlene tries to go on another one of her adventures?"

Marlene has a knack for getting herself into precarious situations when she gets drunk, which she likes to call her “little adventures.” Usually, this means going home with a stranger, whether it’s for a hookup or to steal their lightbulbs because they looked at her wrong.

"Lily’s got her.”

"What if I do something stupid?" you ask, now swinging your legs. The nerves eating away at you just won’t let you sit still.

James puts his other hand on your knee, soothing you with a gentle squeeze. "I'm watching you," he says. After thinking it over for a moment, he adds, “And I don't think you'll do anything stupid. Even if you do, I'll do something more stupid so that nobody notices."

This earns him a giggle from you, and he’s happy to see you smiling. He picks up your glass, which is now covered in beads of water, plenty of time having passed for condensation to run its course. He dries what he can with a napkin because he knows you hate when the droplets land in your lap.

You once asked him why it happened, even though you knew the answer. He simply told you it was science.

“Science is stupid,” you had said, eyes fixating on several small spots of water soaking into your jeans.

Now, James wraps your glasses with napkins. He holds out your drink, a black napkin enveloped around it, as he asks, “You want to do this, right?”

You peek into the glass and watch the dwindling ice cubes swirl around in a vodka cran; a drink that James had called “beginner friendly.”

“Yeah,” you answer shyly.

James frowns. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”

You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over. A part of you wants to forget it, but another part of you knows you’d be disappointed in yourself for chickening out again.

You wrap your hand around the glass, cringing at the squish of the soggy napkin beneath your fingertips. You don’t know what’s worse: this feeling or the water dripping all over you. But James’ attempts to help make you feel warm inside, so you don’t complain.

“No, I still want to do this.”

“Then I’m here for you. Promise.” James gives your knee another squeeze.

You cast a look toward your friends. For years, you've nominated yourself as the designated driver. Or you've claimed to have early morning obligations. You've always felt better knowing someone sober was around to deliver plenty of water and carb-rich snacks to your incapacitated friends.

That was your excuse, anyway. Not that it isn't one of your concerns, but truthfully, something about drinking makes you feel uneasy. You always knew your friends were safe because you've been there, ready to hold back anyone's hair or stray them away from bad decisions. If you drank too, how could you be sure your friends would have someone to depend on? How could you be sure you would have someone to depend on?

Then, you started dating James, and you found a level of trust you never knew was possible. You know you can depend on him for anything.

When you admitted to him why you never drink when you go out, he swore up and down that he would be there for you.

Remembering his promise summons a wave of courage. You shoot James a nervous smile, and take your first sip, scrunching your nose as it burns your tongue.

"This is kind of gross."

James barks a laugh, "We can try to find something you'd like better next round. That is, if you decide to have another."

Feeling brave, you do have another. That's when you discovered something called the Cosmic Lemon Fizz; a drink that sparkles with edible glitter and manages to be blue, green, and yellow all at once. You laughed when you saw it, not knowing how in for it you were.

"Jamie!" you exclaim after taking a sip of your third Cosmic Lemon Fizz. "This tastes like happy feels!" you gasp as if the thought had just occurred to you, despite this being the fourth time you tell him.

"I bet it does!" James cheers. His eyes wrinkle in the corners as he beams at you.

"You should try one!" you declare, and immediately try to flag over the bartender.

James smoothly takes your hand, stopping you as he says, "No can do. Made a promise to a pretty girl that I wouldn't have a drop tonight."

You whip your head around. "Who!?" you ask, eyes wide.

"Who do you think, pretty girl," he says, poking you in the side.

Giggles escape you and you swat his hand away. He doesn't go far, lifting his arm to brush some stray hairs out of your face. His hand lingers on the side of your face, soothing the pad of his thumb against your cheek.

You lean into his touch, gazing up at him with an affectionate glaze in your eyes; a look that gives him butterflies.

"Wowww," you say dreamily. "You're handsome."

James feels his heart flip in his chest. "Thank you, love," he says, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Hey," Sirius says, appearing out of nowhere as he lazily throws an arm over your shoulders, "How's it going over here?"

While you're distracted with Sirius, James waves over the bartender and replaces your drink with water. The next time you reach for your glass, you hesitate.

"Where's my cosmo magic fizzy thingy?" you ask, an eyebrow raised as you glance at James.

"You must've finished it," he shrugs, acting clueless.

"That's like the oldest trick in the book. You replaced it with water and now you're trying to be sneaky!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," James feigns innocence.

You giggle, bringing the straw to your lips. "I knew you'd take care of me. I love you," you say, happily sipping your water.

James feels another eye-wrinkling smile break out on his face. "I love you too, pretty girl."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[shaisuki]

pleasantries

CONTENT WARNINGS. anxiety + references of cheating + power play

NOTE. yay! updated this one and more to come? seriously i don't know how to continue this.

SYNOPSIS.

chapters one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

you hate overtime. you finally understand what nanami meant when he said it to you one time while he visited you to look after the twins. you remember it was a cold night and he's hanging his coat in a spare chair of your house while the twins were still crawling. their little bodies wrapped around your legs, afraid that you'll leave them but you won't. they're just that clingy and needy to you, their mother. you appreciate nanami when he took the time to look after the twins like they were his own but you thrown that thought away. you made clear that as much as you appreciate nanami when he helps you of raising the twins, it is not his responsibility. it is yours and nanami respected that which you are grateful for.

late nights at this office made you miss the twins and haibara and nanami. you began to wonder what they're doing right now. the twins were surely sleeping after being tucked by their uncle haibara and nanami, you were not so sure. he could just be out and doing his stuff. the unfinished paperworks was sure you were not getting home anytime soon but certain circumstances may push you to finish this tasking paperworks.

your eyes glazed at the screen in front of you. not even the blue light saved you from getting your eyes strained and the impending headache is already building up throughout your skull. a soft hiss leaving your mouth as you blink your eyes and taking your eyes off the screen. you need to take a break, away from this.

“take a break, will you?” a voice popped beside you. playful and concerned the tone is but it almost made your heart crash and your body freeze. a shaky breath escaping your lips. from your reaction it was like a serial killer hunting you had found you and got you cornered with no means of escape. a thousand anamnesis briefly flashed through every corners of your brain. the long buried came surfacing and it took was just his and presence of your former bully now ceo of the company where you work at.

you firmly planted your feet on the floor before using it as a leverage to push the chair you sit to gain a not-so-rude distance to your boss. placing your hands in your lap before clenching it to fist to calm yourself and to stop the small tremors of your hands. might as well to stop your legs from bouncing. “i-i was about to. i'm c-close to finishing.” you stammer. wincing at the way you spoke internally and trying not to cringe.

the dimness of the office floor and the sudden drop of temperature didn't do anything to ease your nervousness and realizing that you were the only one left except with him. the dark glasses he wore did nothing to conceal the color of his eyes and it was lighter with the dimness surrounding both of you. it only brought you bad memories and you don't want to lose composure because of it. “you didn't change. you were always the diligent one. keep doing that and you will might be my favorite employee.” he scoffs at what he said. clearing his throat. “scratch that, you are my favorite.” grabbing a nearby chair for him to sit down and the chair seems to be smaller than it was from the his huge stature made it. he sat and faces you. your knees almost bumping but you recoiled at the closeness.

it didn't escape gojo's gaze at the action. a pang of a pain that he didn't recognize blooms in his heart and he didn't like it. he was sure the building would be empty minus the staffs who maintains the cleanliness in their designated spot. he was wrong. when he stops at your floor to check up on you or think of whatever gift he can leave at your desk, he found you. working tirelessly at whatever work you need to do. thus, a chance was presented to him. it's a chance to get you closer and crack the tough exterior you have. he was redeeming himself to you. however it was difficult seeing how you defend yourself from him. afraid that he'll harm you again but it was past like that. he wasn't his past self and so are you.

“are you not going home?” you ask him. he gave you a quick shake of his head. “i'm not until you're finished.” he reasons. part of it true and a lie. there's no rush to go home when all that awaits for him is the coldness of his penthouse. spacious and designed for his taste. it's devoid of warmth and sayuri wasn't too fond of it and he wasn't with his fiancee. sayuri's spoiled and even with the few hints of her being there, it bothers him. what he needs is someone. someone who can share a home with him and the answer's in front of him.

there's no use arguing to him. he's your boss and you can't say that his presence is unneeded and you did what's best. ignoring him like he didn't exist but it's impossible that he's dead staring at you. watching your every move. waiting for you to fumble and that brings the unnecessary anxiety you have been feeling lately.

since when's the last time he had the chance to look at you like this, gaze at you like you hung the moon and stars and even more than three years had passed since he last saw you, there isn't a bit that you had changed except maybe for the weight that you gained more and the look in your eyes. despite the uncertainty with how things have been for you since you stepped in his company and meeting them two, there's a look of fierceness in them like you're protecting someone and needing the strength to protect them and it's the look he have seen from his mother. a thousand times she did when he needs her. shielding from his father's demanding orders about him being his protege, his heir. the days would come back haunt him if his father had seen as his son. his blood and nothing else but a child of his own.

it's a memory he didn't want to think of, now he took over of his family's legacy. he should be focusing on what's present in front of him and he gladly drowns in your presence. looking at you and memorizing every inch of your features. still in his position he can see that natural eyelashes of yours, the roundness of your eyes and when they look at him, he gets a little weak. gojo would like to brush his nose against to yours. feel the roundness of your cheeks like he did when you slept in a little the morning after he and suguru had ravaged you. takes a glance at your sleeping figure and he didn't realize that he was already admiring you and he would like to kiss you once again. the softness of your lips in his while he takes you fully. it will come a long way before he can do that again. forgiveness isn't a easy thing to do and he regrets it a little bit of how he treated you.

enthralled by the menial tasks you were doing, the beep of the monitor shutting down brought him back. you were packing up and sorting the folders and putting them by the small rack of your desk for tomorrow's use. you didn't wait for him after you've slotted your chair below the space of your desk. walking towards the elevators and he follows suit. pressing the button for ground floor. there's only a ding and then the casual whir of the elevator. none of you dared to break the silence despite gojo's chatty nature. not wanting to make you uncomfortable furthermore and he only looks at the reflection of you both in the elevator doors.

ding!

the elevator stopped before opening its doors. you both stepped out and made way through the exit of the building. the cold night air hits you both. nipping the skin that is left uncovered. the young ceo glanced at his watch before looking at you. “shall i escort you home?” you were quick to dismiss his offer. “no, thank you. i can take myself home.” you say before leaving him in front of the glass doors of his building. you take a pause to your steps. contemplating and you hope you're not going to regret what you're about to say. “thank you for staying with me until i got my work done but please don't make it a habit. i don't want trouble.” you told him. “have a good night.” you slightly bowed as a sign of respect to him, not as a person but as an employee.

you didn't gave him room to reply and you were off. down to the direction of the nearest train station. his car already in front of him before the valet stepped out to give him his keys and before he took off. his blue eyes shimmer behind his dark glasses until he can see no longer of your retreating figure.

the chains make a clanging sound. resonating in the empty room and there's a sharp rattle of the chains mixed with the sound it was making as the sandbag was swung in different directions. it rounded into a circular motion until it was back again to the cause of the movement. steely purple eyes fixated on the poor equipment and anticipating the movement of it coming back to him, his fist collided with it again. followed by more and with a harsh punch, the sandbag broke the chain where it was attached. toppling on the corner with a thud and that was the cue for him to stop. the equipment no longer useful to him.

geto swiped a sweat in his forehead. finding the end of the strip of the cloth wrapped around his hands before pulling it and dumping it to the trash bin. he take a bottled water for him to drink and plopped down the couch. before his lips can taste the water, his phone rang. the caller id flashing in the screen of his phone and geto sighs before swiping to answer the call.

“any progress?” he say without greetings. anticipating the answer on the other end and he hears a shuffle before it was answered. “barely. she's avoiding me. i managed to stay with her after i found out she was staying late.” he can hear the frustrated tone of his friend. “she told me i shouldn't do it. she don't want to be in trouble.” gojo huffs. annoyed how the night ended but at least you talked to him even it was brief. “you are trouble.” suguru chuckles before turning into one of a serious. “it doesn't help you're her boss and you're engaged. they will talk and you know the jealous fits your fiancee have.” gojo rolls his eyes. wiping the fogged mirror he was staring his reflection at. “i know and that means, it's going well with you?” he bites his tongue to stop the sarcastic tone he was about to unleash.

geto thought about it. his past encounters with you and slowly, you were trusting him. it wasn't the result he wanted cause he can be impatient at times and he's dying to feel you once again but progress is still progress. “yeah. she's slowly accepting me.” gojo scoffs and geto hears it. “you want her to open up to you? stop being an entitled asshole to her. show her you're not your past self. being sincere won't cost you anything.” it have and gojo winces at it.

“satoru?” geto hears a feminine voice in the background and he ends the call before he can hear anything else. he thinks of you. he should take you on a date sometimes. one you can't refuse and show you a good time and treat you the way you deserve and see that smile he have been wanting. directed to him and only him. he's the only one that can make you smile and you won't need gojo. he looks at the time. he should be planning to make you his, again.

there's a sudden beep signalling that the call was ended. gojo turned around only to meet his fiancee. standing in the bathroom door. her perfume reeks and her loose waves daintily passed around her shoulders. wearing only a thin nightgown and gojo hides the distaste he have for her. this was an arrangement. both of the families agreed it should be done. sayuri was only her for the night and he can live that. “aren't you going to bed?" her voice too sweet for his tastes. he likes your better. sweet and gentle compared to sayuri's. “just a second.” he says before turning off the light switch and joining her.

“how's your day?”

“the usual.” her fingers came rubbing circles in his chest. she intentionally pulls the straps of her thin nightgown and he wasn't really in the mood and how he can be when all he can think is you. fuck. maybe he can use sayuri and pretend it was you but the delicate features of his fiancee isn't the same as you. a tiny waist and a handful of flesh he can grab. it wasn't enough. he needs you. full and ripe for him to tear apart while you cry his name. he rubs his eyes and looks at sayuri. it would be only temporary. “sayuri?” he call to her. the girl besides him was all ears. “yes?” he would be in trouble if he was to call your name instead of her. “come here.” and without hesitation her lips was on his.

now's the world is getting smaller to you three and you have no excuses of avoiding them. you can endure it. you endured it for the quarter of your whole life, what's the difference if you can do it one more again. now the stakes are higher and you're risking the existence of your children with them. you don't know how it will end but you know you have to protect your twins even it's the last thing you will do.

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[fish-crow-star-snowman]

LaDS Zayne Imagine

Zayne x reader/mc

angst, fluff, pregnancy and labor

You had gone into labor before you knew it. Everything was planned and carefully organized for the big day that your little one would arrive.

No one is ever really READY though. Your excitement and nervousness was getting the best of you. While Zayne whom was often on the other side of that spectrum, calm and collected as ever, was quite the nervous wreck himself.

He'd been at work all day, not too busy. Regardless, he hated leaving you at home. Prayed in hopes that he would conveniently be home by the time you went in labor. His heart dropped receiving a call from the obstetrician gynecology department of the hospital.

"Dr.Zayne, your wife is in labor."

Throughout the months of the pregnancy, there were several talks with your obgyn about this being possibly high-risk. Every possible scenario surged through Zayne's head. During the whole experience, you often were met with doctor Zayne rather than what you needed the most, your partner.

The second the call hung up, he was quick to run to your side. He'd already given notice to his colleagues prior to your arrival just in case. He was almost always prepared. Almost.

His eyes gleamed upon seeing your already exhausted but seemingly relieved look. While he's obviously glad to see you're okay, his attention turns to the doctor, another colleague.

"How is she doing, Dr.Turner?"

"Oh Dr.Zayne, it's been a while! How have you been holding up?"

Silence sweeps the room for what felt like an eternity. Zayne clearly was not in the mood for a reunion. The doctor opting to answer his question instead.

"She is one centimeter dilated. No imposing risks so far. It's been smooth sailing. However she's not progressing nearly as fast as we would like.

"How long has she been here?"

"3 hours, sir."

"Why wasn't I called earlier.."

His tone deepens, irritation seeping from his obviously overworked body. The doctor stayed quiet, knowing the words 'too busy' wouldn't have been a good enough answer.

"My love, I tried calling you first but you didn't pick up. I remembered you had a 6 hour surgery this morning. I chose to call an ambulance instead. I'm sorry."

Guilt stung his chest. Of all hours of the day, why. He walked to your side and took your hands in his, pressing your fingertips to his lips and whispered.

"You always come first. No matter what."

His words were meaningful and for a moment you had the man you had been longing to have for months. It was short-lived however.

Like the doctor predicted, it was an unusually long process. You didn't dilate your second centimeter until 6 hours after your partner's arrival at your room. It's been about 30 hours of nonstop cycles of contractions. Unbeknownst to him, Zayne hasn't been making things easier.

Both of you were completely worn out, haven't ate or slept. Zayne's surgeon mode was still on and you were about to combust. Talks with the doctors about your condition like you weren't in the room, like you were just another one of his patients. Looking over your chart and giving demands to the nurses as if he were still working.

You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure for you. Making sure you were in the best health at all times and he was doing an amazing job. It didn't change the fact it was making you feel a little alone in this. What you needed was his hands on yours, telling you that you were going to be okay. That you can do this. A kiss to your forehead every now and again for reassurance maybe?

Nine centimeters. Finally. You were close to the end and soon you'd be holding the proof of yours and Zayne's love. At least it's what it should have been but you were at your breaking point. Zayne had his back towards you still keeping up conversations with nurses.

"Zayne!"

He tensed hearing your strained shout. He turned to look at you with that oh so familiar concerned gaze. Everything was quiet once again. All that was heard was the sound of the monitors beeping. It was your turn to feel guilty.

You closed your eyes briefly and sucked in a deep breath before holding out your hands for him to take. Understanding your gesture, he walks to your bedside crouching slightly to your eye level.

You fought hard to keep the tears from spilling out of your water line. You spoke in the softest tone possible, in hopes to forget how you just yelled at him.

"You are an amazing doctor and I couldn't ask for a better one these past few months." You paused for a moment, letting a tear shed your cheek and huffing another breath. "But I would like to have my husband for this.. please.."

His eyes widened at the implication of your words and letting out a soft gasp of realization.

He stands up finally relieving himself of his white coat he had been wearing since yesterday and removed his glasses to set on your bedside table. It showed how disheveled he was underneath. Hair was a mess, tie crooked from his constant fidgeting and tugging, and two buttons at the top of his shirt undone.

Zayne motions you to scoot down your bed a little, sitting behind you to cradle you with his strong legs on both sides of your body. His fingers traced the back of your arms before resting them on your shoulder and giving them a tight squeeze. Small kisses made their way from your shoulder to your neck.

Your body reacted immediately, letting loose the tension you didn't know you even had.

"I'm sorry." Zayne's voice a little shaky but gentle and clear nonetheless. "I'm sorry I've left you alone in this. It was never my intention. I love you so much." He repeats those same two words over and over.

While you can feel your gown dampen from his own tears, you can't help but smile. This. This is what you needed to relax. Before you could open your mouth to respond, the obgyn breaks the moment.

"Alright, ten centimeters dilated. Are you ready to start pushing?"

Zayne drops his hands to your side, signaling for you to take them into your own as support. Placing more kisses to the top of your head, he whispers reassurances. 'You've got this' 'You can do it' 'You're so strong'.

You have a tight grip on his wrist threatening to break his arm, but he didn't seem to care. If he could take all your pain, he would. Dilation was a tiring process, everything after seemed to flow rather quickly. The head, then shoulders, and finally legs.

Within seconds of the doctors clearing your baby's nasal passage, you and Zayne hear that oh so beautiful sound you had been waiting for. Before moving on any further, the baby was placed on your now naked chest. You admired every inch of your baby, in awe. Thick black hair sat on top of their small head. Eyes glowing hues of orange and green.

You have a Zayne mini me. Speaking of which, distracted by your own emotions, you forgot to see how your husband was hanging on. And it definitely wasn't like you expected, he wasn't saying anything but he didn't have to. His expression said enough. Your baby already had him wrapped around their finger.

His hand came to rest upon yours that was cradling the back of the baby's head. "Thank you for this new chapter in life you've given me, my jasmine."

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Li, it's a—"

——————————————

a/n: I never intended this to be a fic, it was just meant to be an idea for a better fic writer. one who writes more. It just rolled this way. however if anyone wants to use this, please do. Just give me a little credit ❤️

[fastandcarlos]

Thousands Of Miles Apart : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: you and daniel aren't getting any younger, and yet you seem to find yourselves further and further apart on either sides of the world

There was no response from you as you heard the key finally go into the door to your apartment, hearing the sound of Daniel singing to himself. You remained where you were sat, staring down at the floor as his footsteps echoed throughout the place, a clear spring in his step, the complete opposite to how you were feeling beside him. 

However, as Daniel walked in and noticed you sat on the sofa, a few candles lit around you, his heart dropped. The singing came to a stop, his footsteps became heavier as he slowly walked closely towards where you were. 

There was no acknowledgement from you that he was there as Daniel sat in the seat opposite you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look across at him as you tried to stop the anger in the pit of your stomach from exploding. 

“Babe,” Daniel whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get home so late, we were just testing and time just ran away from me.” 

“Shut up, please, just shut up,” you asked of him, the harshness in your voice taking Daniel by surprise. “I don’t even want to hear your excuses anymore; I’m fed up of you treating me like I’m stupid with all of these reasons.” 

It took a moment for Daniel to comprehend what you were saying, the anger in your voice leaving him dejected. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you by not coming home earlier, I should’ve let you know that I was going to be a while.” 

“I don’t care about work Daniel; I care about the fact it’s another night away from each other.” 

“I know, but we’re both so busy it’s hard to find time together.” 

Your eyes rolled at how careless his voice was, shrugging his shoulders. With time so tricky to find, you were trying to find those pockets of time, however Daniel didn’t seem to be. 

“We spend the majority of our days thousands of miles apart, but when we’re both at home we’re still apart too. What’s the point of doing this to ourselves when we’re just constantly away from each other?” 

Daniel’s body tensed up as you finally looked across at him, your expression was emotionless, sending a shiver down his spine. “It’s not going to last forever, we’re trying our best, aren’t we? But sometimes things get in the way.” 

“You’re really telling me this is you trying your best for me?” 

Daniel’s head nodded, only to feel your eyes narrow in on him, questioning how honest he was being with you. “I’ve always put our relationship first; do you know how hard it is for me too when we’re so far away? It’s not like I want to live like this.” 

At times it felt like you barely recognised the man in front of you anymore. The Daniel you knew at the start of your relationship would race halfway around the world if it meant getting to spend time with you, but now it felt he couldn’t even be bothered to walk half a yard for you, instead deciding to prioritise work instead. 

Your eyes dropped as you struggled to hold back your emotion. “I can’t keep doing this Daniel, I don’t even feel like I’m in a relationship sometimes these days.” 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered, “I hate that you feel that way. You know how much I love you sweetheart; I couldn’t imagine doing life without you by my side.” 

“I love you as well,” you assured him, “but the fact we love each other can’t be the reason why we stay together. We have two very different, hectic lives, and although we always promised that wouldn’t get in the way, I can’t help but feel like now it is.” 

You quickly wiped a tear away, hoping that Daniel wouldn’t see. However, as he stood up and moved himself to where you sat, placing his arms gently around your back, you knew that he had seen just how much you were struggling. 

“Why does this feel like you’re breaking up with me?” Daniel stuttered. “I don’t ever want to make you feel like I’m not trying, or that I don’t care. I wish more than anything that you didn’t have to wait for me constantly, that I could be here whenever I want and spend my evenings cuddled up to you and not letting you go.” 

“I don’t think I am,” you whispered, leaning a little closer into Daniel. “But I just don’t think I can carry on like this, it’s not healthy for either of us Daniel, this shouldn’t be the normal.” 

Daniel pulled you even closer towards him, pressing a kiss against the top of your head, refusing to let you go. “I don’t care what I have to do, but I promise that I’m going to make some changes and make sure that I’m here for you, for us, more.” 

Your head slowly nodded, you could hear the fear in Daniel’s voice, desperate to make sure that you knew just how serious he was about fixing you up and not losing what you had. 

“I’ll do whatever to prove to you how much I want to make this work, even when we’re thousands of miles apart,” Daniel whispered. “I hate the fact that I ever made you doubt how I feel about you or made you feel like I didn’t care either.” 

“Are you really serious about making this work again?” 

Daniel’s head nodded without even having to think, he had never been so sure of anything in his life. “I can’t lose you, even if I made it seem like it’s not the case recently, I cannot stress enough that you really are everything to me.” 

“It’s a relief to hear you say that, Daniel.” 

He pressed a kiss against the side of his head, bringing his lips to your ear. “I love you, more than you could ever imagine, you’re the best.” 

Your smile slowly turned up, resting your hands on Daniel’s arm that was around you. “I love you, that will never change.” 

“You know, I miss us too, I always wish that we could go back sometimes and pause time.” 

Despite seeming as if he didn’t care, Daniel did, more than anything. He hated whenever work told him to stay, or when his management called and told him they had plans for a deal which meant he had to be away from home for even longer. 

“How about tomorrow we plan some time and organise some dates, we can do whatever you want and I promise that I’ll definitely show up for them too.” 

Your head nodded at Daniel’s suggestion, relaxing into his hold as he leaned his head down to rest on top of yours. 

“You can make me do whatever, it’s the least I can do for what I’ve put you through,” Daniel added, bringing a chuckle out of you. 

“You might regret saying that you know with some of my ideas.” 

Truthfully, he didn’t care, as long as it meant time with you then he was happy doing absolutely anything. “All I want is to be able to start creating memories with you again, no matter how stupid they end up being.” 

“Making you look stupid is my speciality,” you teased in reply to him. 

“Hm, I’m pretty good at doing it all by myself.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jujutsukaisenwriting]

JJK Characters Realizing They Start Falling for You [Pt.1]

Yuji Itadori:

He always saw you as a bro but suddenly, your jokes and your laugh started being cute instead of the usual funny

He wants you to always see him at his best and he now starts paying double attention to everything he does in front of you

Blushes intensely and avoids direct eye contact, dying of both embarrassment and desire to stare in your eyes forever

Starts being super attentive to small things, like always making sure you are comfortable

Touched your hand “on accident” but immediately admits he kinda likes it

Smiles widely at you letting him keep your hand and brushes your knuckles with his thumb gently

Feels like the luckiest guy in the world (and texts Fushiguro about it almost immediately)

Megumi Fushiguro:

Starts missing you when you are not around

Everything seems…less annoying to him, even the stupid jokes that Yuji makes

Catches himself contemplating whether he should just hit you with a casual “hi” text (and tries to find reasoning for that)

Wants to share every movie and song with you

At one point, just starts randomly carrying your stuff, walking you home and etc

During one of such walks, asks if you might be interested in going on a date?

Smiles confidently and a bit shyly upon hearing you say yes

Gojo Satoru:

If you think he was clingy before, think again

He will just be... everywhere you go, popping out of thin air with his signature grin.

He will never admit it but he simply misses you dearly and wants to be by your side.

Also, trust issues: he is scared that once out of your field of view, he'll be... forgotten.

Saves the last sweet for you and puts his jacket on your shoulder when walking you home in the evening

Accidentally tilts his head to breathe in your scent and looks away, smiling

His whole world just concentrates in you, all of a sudden, but he doesn't mind at all

Nanami Kento:

He didn't plan any romance while working as a sorcerer but lately, he's been paying more attention to your presence. In fact, he starts looking forward to you being near him and it causes his mild annoyance.

He hates to admit the fact that you have become something much more meaningful and important than a colleague.

Starts smiling more around you and overall feels more relaxed. His small smile goes amazingly well with his sharp features.

His love language is acts of service so he starts bringing you sweets and pastry, takes some of your tasks and fills in paperwork for you.

Offers you a ride home one day and on the way, suddenly suggests to have dinner together.

"It's just a meal"

At one point during this dinner, just takes your hand and doesn't let go ever since.

Sukuna:

His jokes and wits become less cruel and more... gentle? If he knows what this word even means

He has always been in search of something his whole life, killing people and curses and gaining more and more power. With you around, he just wants peace.

Starts accidentally seeking touch with you: like touching your hand, playing with your hair, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Also, starts making these jokes that you two are together. Their amount intensifies when other men approach you.

One day, just states that you and him are spending the evening together. Doesn't tell you the details though and feels a tingle of unknown excitement.

"Of course it's a date, silly. I want you to be mine and I won't take no for answer"

[whetstonefires]

Thinking about the parallels set up between Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu, and how actually most of them are oddly specious.

The sketch of the backstory lines up, but on close examination they're mirror images.

Wei Wuxian wasn't kicked out of his sect, he left it. Wei Wuxian didn't hate the house he grew up in, he loved it, and getting the people there killed was the absolute last purpose for which his dark powers were ever intended.

Jiang Cheng was no Mo Ziyuan--his jealousy was a complicated thing all twisted up with love, and while he would lash out at Wei Wuxian both as a casual means of shit communication and more damagingly in moments of high tension, he had neither the desire nor the ability to bully him, and in general respected his boundaries almost too well.

When Wei Wuxian destroyed himself about Jiang Cheng, it was to give him cultivation, and protect his life and happiness. He would never have killed him.

Madam Yu was a domineering aunt-like figure, who hated Wei Wuxian for reasons of reputation, and because she had resented his dead mother, but she crucially did not have the power to actually disrupt his lifestyle to any significant extent.

Mo Xuanyu was shut up in a small room to rot; Wei Wuxian didn't even attend classes unless he wanted to. Mo Xuanyu was weak and disliked; Wei Wuxian was brilliant and popular.

Mo Xuanyu's uncle is a cipher of a figure, without character or agency, a nonentity who is resented to death apparently mostly for what he didn't do; in theory he is the master of the house, but he certainly never protected his wife and son's punching bag from them.

And this is what got me thinking along this track: because people keep interpreting Jiang Fengmian as this, as exactly like Mo Xuanyu's nameless uncle, a nonentity who lets his wife make all the decisions, and is contemptible therefore.

He shows up in fic characterized this way all the time, handled narratively as a gap rather than a person, an absence where there should have been a parent, and it's...totally inaccurate? The man only has a few scenes but the things that are most firmly established about him are:

he regularly goes out of his way to protect Wei Wuxian

he's extremely fond of Wei Wuxian

he cares a lot about ethical behavior

he's conflict-avoidant and gentle

he can and will overrule Yu Ziyuan when he's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can do about it

his communication skills are mediocre at best

he doesn't understand jiang cheng

he has a dumb sense of humor

Now almost none of this made it into cql besides point 4 and maybe 6, 5 is technically there but buried by the cinematic framing, so I totally get why the fandom on the whole struggles to characterize him well, and it's easier to write him off.

But it keeps bugging me to see him and Yu Ziyuan squashed into the mold of the Mo, because not only is that boring and reductive and kind-of-missing-the-point, it's like. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's characterization suffers a lot when you alter the environment and take away the influence exerted by their shared father figure.

Jiang Fengmian was Wei Wuxian's primary adult role model and it shows.

Jiang Cheng's relationship to his own sense of ethics is fraught because 'teaching him good ethics' was his dad's number one parenting goal, but they misunderstood each other so badly (partly because Yu Ziyuan kept loudly misinterpreting them to each other, which is so realistic I can't get over it, that's exactly how it works good lord) that Jiang Cheng has a direct association between the concept of 'doing the right thing even when it's hard' and a feeling of personal inadequacy.

The fact that Wei Wuxian got their dad-person's approval for being exactly himself and Jiang Cheng not only couldn't do that, he couldn't even get that same level of approval when he really pushed himself to rise to expectations, because Jiang Fengmian did not intend that warmth as a 'reward,' and so never realized he was withholding it, and therefore misunderstood Jiang Cheng's visible jealousy as a dangerous sense of personal entitlement that had to be carefully restrained, which reinforced his distrust of Jiang-Cheng-the-person and fed into a shitty loop where they were less and less able to relate to one another--that's fantastic. That's so human! I love it so much.

Both their failures are their own but at the same time it would never have gotten so bad if Yu Ziyuan hadn't been interjecting herself in there, in the middle of their relationship, fucking it up. That's family, baby.

I would ofc like if there was more fic engaging with the subtleties of all this because it's so good, mxtx did such elegant work here and it is not sufficiently appreciated. But it's the kind of thing that's hard to write good fic about; I am struggling with it myself.

So mostly I wish there was just more fic that didn't impose Mo Xuanyu's cliche angst backstory on Wei Wuxian, who has a whole different thing going on.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 10)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds 📍

Part 10 Good Deeds

Alastor takes you out as promised, but work/hobbies call him away. Not that you mind, you have your own hobbies to pick up.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, references to racial violence, reference to a word that’s now very much a slur, Hate for Aubrey, inaccurate portrayal of how easy it was to drink, oh yeah murder, mentions of a dismembered body, bloody shoes, physics hijinks with a corpse, these idiots in love, gators aaaaaye baby, domestic fluff?? Kind of?? Did I do it?!」

I think about Emmett Till often. Though his heinous murder came after the time this story is set, what happened to him wasn’t an isolated incident. So it is referenced here in a sense, because I can’t stop thinking about him when I think about racial violence in the south both what it looked like before and what it looks like now. I don’t say anything explicit and change the act, but it is still important to warn you. If you don’t know about the tragic death of Emmett, here’s a site with links to articles and essays. Be careful, it is awful and his deceased and battered face will come up on some links, as his mother wanted the world to see what they did to her baby. It’s an image I cannot forget and I rightfully shouldn’t. I know it’s off to have such a heavy topic before this love story but this case is the kind that would motivate such a killer as Alastor, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity to remind us of Emmett’s short life even if it’s done in a silly fanfic surrounded by nonsense. So forgive me for perhaps an odd real life addition, I’d be disappointed in myself for not addressing it when Emmett has been on my mind every time I think about the era someone like Alastor could have lived in. An era that did exist and people did live and suffer in.  An era not far removed from us, my father was alive when this happened.

Part 10 - Good Deeds

minors if you interact I will interpret that as a deep hate for me as a person so MDNI 👌🏼

“I’ve got to speak with the valet, go on ahead and find a table you like.” 

You didn’t want to do that at all, but knew Alastor wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want it. Well, he didn’t really ask, did he? He was certainly in his element, the shining and towering hotel every bit as pristine as his own public image.

It was as if every head in the room spun around to look at you. Everyone’s hair freshly styled, jewelry shiny and heavy, clothes immaculate. Your dress was lovely, no doubt, but no one looks at the elephant in her tutu at the circus and proclaims, “A ballerina!” This was, rather obviously, not your scene.

Alastor had presented the dress to you so sweetly, though. You woke up to find it hanging on the closet door hook, the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. He had either waited for you to fall asleep to hang it or woken up before you for just the reason. It was red, his favorite color for you. The latest fashion, loose and straight. No corset. The neckline showcased a large, flat bow. 

“Partly a gift for me,” he had said as his hands slid down your sides when you had gotten dressed, “Such softness shouldn’t be hidden behind rigid boning.”

You settled into a large seashell shaped booth, the back coming up and over like you were the speck of sand yet to form into a pearl. The table was small, a glittering pattern under its shiny veneer. Everything was…glistening. Even the darkness past the windows seemed to be sparkling back at you. A few people turned to look you up and down, smiling and beginning to speak to their group before even turning back to them. 

You could wither, or bloom. So you learned back as if you were bored, legs crossed and feet gently shaking with anxiety or boredom, you hoped no one could sus out which. 

It was so odd. In your usual haunts, newcomers were greeted with curious smiles and maybe the tiniest suspicions. You were being picked apart to the bone by sharp stares and even sharper tongues, no matter how silent their jabs were to you. 

“They’re probably jealous.” Your head snapped up, when had Alastor made it in? “They look at you and know, ‘oh, that’s the kind of woman my husband would rather have a conversation with.’” You laughed, you absolutely could have stolen the attention and more from at least one of these women’s husbands.

“Perhaps they recognize these earrings, gone missing from their jewelry box earlier this year.”  You weren’t above accepting a woman’s stolen jewelry. It was her husband's fault anyway, might as well enjoy it. 

Alastor’s finger came to your chin, lifting your face further into the light, “Give em a good look, darling. I want them to eat their hearts out.” The blush that swept across your features was so fierce, the difference in temperature between your cheeks and your arms caused a chill to run down to your shins. He took a seat beside you, scooting up close and flashing that smile. A smile that had you chasing him into dark alleys and grabbing dead men by the ankles. 

A waiter came by, placing a drink in front of Alastor and asking what you’d like. You were so used to being in such spaces with the kind of men who answered for you that you didn’t reply immediately. When Alastor brought his drink to his lips, you realized it was you who was expected to speak. 

“Oh! A corpse reviver please.”

The man smiled and left with a nod. Alastor choked, hitting his chest with the fleshy part of his palm, “That was intentional, wasn’t it?”

You danced in your seat, “I’ve never been somewhere that has the stock for it that I was…allowed to order what I want.”

Alastor set his drink down and leaned back, shoulder pressing into yours teasingly, “I can’t imagine anyone disallowing you a thing.” With a sigh, you reminded him of the things you did to get your marks drunk and off their guard. You were surprised when he nodded like he remembered. “I saw that! You would sit so quietly on their laps. I remember thinking you were much more boring than you had initially made me believe.” You recoiled, and he shot you a look, “Who stalked who first, hm?” 

With a huff, you let it go. You weren’t actually sure the answer to that anyway. Focus let free from Alastor, you began to notice the looks were back. But no longer cutting into you, but wide and devouring. A few smiled at Alastor, some tipped their heads to him and offered a look of recognition. “Aren’t you popular.”

“I haven’t been out in awhile. They’re probably curious.” He took another sip, “Should be, atleast.”

A prideful smile slid up your face. You uselessly tried to mask it by licking your teeth. 

Something that happened when in public with Alastor that was unlike you was the tendency to become small. Not shrinking to provide him space; it was a turning in of your shoulders and touching of your knees in a subconscious effort to curl into a little ball of joy. Actively fighting the tug, you leaned back and opened your chest. An exercise in mental focus. 

“It’s weird. How you can be friends with my kind of people and….well, whatever is happening here.” Your hand waved at the room before you both. 

“My friendship with these people compared to our friends at the dives is…. A light bulb compared to a fire. One was manufactured to fit a need, one exists somewhat naturally.”

Tall and slim, body flat from collar bones to knees, a slip of a woman entered the room and you felt a shift in the atmosphere. Her hair was short and pitch black, fashionable to say the least. A few heads turned, a few upturned lips shifted into sneers. Side glances, hushed words, intentionally heard huffs. You turned to Alastor to find his face was as confused as your own. 

“Who is that?” You said it low, not knowing if she was friend or foe. 

“That would be Mrs. Aubrey Debreaux. Popular socialite and frequent hostess.” A sip of his drink, speaking about her like a character in a novel. “This icy reception is news to me though. She’s usually the life of the party.”

“She’s a real wet blanket now…Your circles seem really fickle. Always a bit of gossip.” You realized as soon as you said it that, well, that was the point. Alastor needed the gossip, and, well, he clearly enjoyed it.

“That’s what the wealthy do. Gossip and pretend the drama is as stressful as someone looking for their next meal.” Swirling his drink absentmindedly, his eyes followed Aubrey through the hotel bar. When you asked if he knew everyone there, he said it was his job to know people.

“Your job is in radio. You host a show, Alastor.” You laughed through your nose.

“Well, my other job.”

“I’d call that a passionate hobby.” Your hand came to rest half on his and half on the booth bench low and hidden, not wanting to monopolize, but he quickly took it and held it on the table. Another struggle to keep your shoulders from drawing inward.

The room moved on, forgetting you both were there and eventually about Aubrey too. Or so you had thought. When you drink was starting to mellow you, you turned to Alastor to admire the view. You’d come to enjoy that silence, the kind that only existed between people comfortable enough to know they didn’t need to entertain each other to enjoy each other’s company.

He was scanning the bar still, elbow on the table as he rested his chin there. From a distance of space or familiarity it could be seen as boredom. But up close and personal, you could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes.

“Golly, when in Rome!” Alastor hooted and grabbed you by the hand with one of his and carried his drink in the other, “Let’s go gossip. Bring your drink.”

He pulled you into a group of four people in a circle talking. They opened and let you both in, smiles warm. A clamor of excited ‘how long has it been’s, ‘how are you’s, and ‘you look well’s.

You’d expected him to ask for gossip like he’d said, but realized that’d be pretty conspicuous. Instead he waited, and when Aubrey passed by one of them rolled their eyes and he had his opportunity.

“What’s that look for?” He asked. 

Everyone got quiet and passed a glance between them. Finally a woman in a beaded dress and finger wave bob piped up.

“She reported a young boy touched her on the street.” Alastor watched Aubrey cycle through the groups as the friend spoke. “Grazed her hip with his hands, made a comment about white women as he did it.”

Alastor’s head whipped back around. “He got taken away that night.”

You gasped, hand coming to your mouth in sincere horror, “Just for touching her? Is he still in jail?” 

The woman’s lips pursed together, no one looking at you.

“Bless your heart. He didn’t touch her and he didn’t make it to the jailhouse, sugar.”

Suddenly the way everyone was looking everywhere but at each other sunk in. 

Panicked, you looked to Alastor. His expression was still, like the calm waters of a deep and foreboding bay. What horrors lie underneath? His tongue wiped across his teeth, and you reached out to take his drink from his hand. The action snapped him out of his daze for a second, expression softening a tad as he nodded a thank you.

If he shattered that glass now, people would remember. And when Aubrey went missing they may recall Alastor’s dramatic reaction. You knew his smiles intimately, the ones that were true and the ones that were illusions. The expressions of joy and the mask for his rage. The smile painted on his face now was nothing short of shallow.

You spent so many days in a bubble with Alastor, shielded by his grace or by the accepting and illegal circles you ran in that you sometimes forgot the reality of life. A dark privilege you hadn’t seen until you were the one looking naive for once. 

That’s right. The world was a bad place, of cruelty and injustice. Not just for you, or for parts of you, or for sides of you. Not just for women with smart mouths or a love of dance. No matter how safe the comfort of your friends and the dark halls you all commiserate in, no matter the like minds and mixed complexions of your peers, you were all just one cruel voice from being dragged into the night. Just a single accusation from being a whispered story in a glittering hotel bar. A headline no one would write. 

And some of you would be mourned more than others. 

You took a second, blinking rapidly to dry your eyes. 

“Apparently, she did it to get Hubert to leave his mistress’s apartment and come home.” A short man whose name you never got took a drag of his cigarette, “Worked. He’s been yapping all week about the state of New Orleans society and the importance of protecting the fairer among us.”

Alastor was quiet still, lips tight. You’d seen the photos in his home. You’d never discussed it, no need. Things can’t become normal if you’re always pointing them out. Plus, that was his piece to share. 

“Glad to see most of us here aren’t too keen to welcome her. I’d hate to have to find another bar.” Someone said, glancing around the room. “George just started making my martinis right.”

“Care to dance?” Alastor abruptly turned his entire body to you with a slick swivel on his heels.

You nodded, offering small polite goodbyes and setting your drinks back on the table before turning to him.

His open palm was outstretched and offering you a dance. You spread your hand over his and felt him hold you firmly before pulling you into him. 

He held you so close, much closer than anyone else on the dance floor. A scandalous lack of distance between you two. Quiet, Alastor’s eyes were distant. You were in front of him but he wasn’t seeing you. You let the song carry on a little longer for appearances before sighing into a smile.

“Why are we dancing when you have work to do? You have your tools.” Looking up at a man was rarely a view you enjoyed but the way his eyes slid down his nose and landed so sharply on you made it worth it. A look that said he’d devour you if he didn’t adore you so much. Your hand snaked behind his back to touch the hidden outline of this trusty little knife. He briefly wondered if this could be considered foreplay, the way he felt your hand on his lower back and running over his weapon. Much more intimate than he’d ever let anyone else be.

As your bodies swayed, the lights slid across the curve of his eyes and lit that bright honey brown color like a diamond twirling in the sun. The facets of his irises mesmerizing you. 

How terribly did you love him? 

How far would you fall for him?

“This would be a long one. You’d be waiting… could be a couple of hours. I need to be out of sight before she leaves.” A chill. Oh, you’d forgotten for a second, Alastor was a killer. He didn’t do it for ‘justice’ alone, he enjoyed what he did. Immensely. His voice had a note of giddiness and anger that didn’t mix well, but was oddly arousing. 

“Correction, I’d be dancing for hours. Drinking. Letting handsome men waste their money on me.” 

“Oh? Can they buy me a drink, too?”

You brought up your pointer finger, “You remind her of her humanity, and I’ll get a man to buy you a drink.” 

He linked his finger with yours. “I’ll need to give her special attention. She’s earned it.”

You loosely understood this wasn’t attention like you’d be given. This was attention that ran opposite affection. 

“I’m not here to be in your way, Alastor.” A quick kiss to your hand, one you hoped no one else saw. While no one here would be bothered by Brady, you still wanted to keep some semblance of confusion on what you two were to onlookers. 

His laugh was louder than you expected, a few heads turning, “Impossible. I’m always going wherever you are, dear.”

Would you never get up again?

“I’ll stay at the bar. If they close, I’ll just go to Beth’s.” Your fingers lingered in his, “Be careful. The best good deeds are done in the dark.”

A kiss to your nose. So gentle despite the topic. You could imagine it, the violent death of a woman. You could hear the sounds. Hers, his, the knife’s. A pang of guilt set in before you could remind yourself why this woman was going to die. A tiny smile settled on your face, he offered you a gentle command in return, “Understood, honey. Be safe.” 

You let him kiss your hand again and bow out of  the dance. You were doing it, it dawned on you as you watched him walk away. Truly kissing him goodbye at the door as he went off to work. The closest you’d ever gotten, atleast. 

He stopped by a group and said some quick goodbyes, apologies for leaving early, and left the hotel bar. 

You knew he had killed women before, Alastor was all for equality, but a part of you worried. Women tend to scream louder, and be heard more often, than men. A man screams and people just…keep walking. What would he do? Where would he do it?

With a sniffle, you let the jealousy of just what he would need to do to get her alone flutter away. Taking a seat back at your table, you sipped your drink and watched the others dance and chat. How odd, they could sway in such large places with big windows and bright lights with no fear of cops. Your scenes were dark, dusty, never seeing the sky. 

“He left ya?” One of the earlier women came by, someone you vaguely remember him nodding a ‘hello’ to at some point in the evening. 

Thankfully you were still quick on your feet. “Well, we came separately, of course we’d leave separately.”

A laughed, “Of course.” She leaned down, touching at your hair for a second, curiously, “Don’t hold your breath. But, it is nice he got you in here, huh? Must be a treat for you.” 

Your own laugh was just as abrupt as Alastor’s earlier, your hand coming to hide your smile. All you could muster was a nod. Yes, you stood out. Yes, you didn’t fit in with these people for many reasons. But, it wasn’t your first time in nice spaces. First time not pressed into a man who’d been made to believe he was more important the whole time, but still. 

It took two more drinks for Aubrey to leave. But there was a problem. As she was trying to bow out of the room, a man kept hooking his fingers under the loose belt of her boxy drop waist dress.

With practiced skill, you took note of where her eyes lingered on him, how her hand came to his arm but didn’t actually press him away. Not earnestly.

The pushy man saw it too, every little soft ‘no’ was a half ‘yes’. And Aubrey seemed to like that. It was almost ironic, given what she had done, how she egged on the younger man before her now by pretending she didn’t want him. His hand landed on her hip forcefully, her hand on his chest gingerly. He leaned in close, she pulled away barely.

The next act was the most classic to women of your era. The false exit.

Aubrey whispered something, he nodded eagerly and his many hands returned to himself.

She smiled at the back of everyone’s heads, as nearly no one would look her way, and she slipped out the doors.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shimmying as you slid from your booth. Barely a step away, you leaned back and grabbed the last sip in your glass. You swished it around your mouth like listerine, and swallowed it. Before you got too close, you pinched your cheeks until your eyes began to water.

You’d just found a way to make yourself useful.

“Whoopsie Daisy!” You giggled, shoulder colliding with the man’s chest as you stumbled past.

“Watch - ooh, hey,” the free hand that had come to keep you from getting closer quickly softened, curling around your waist. The same hand that’d just been on the socialite. You were sure to look up and sigh into him, your breath soaked in alcohol. “You okay, doll? Had a bit too much?”

With glassy eyes you nodded, closing them and letting your head nod lazily, “I lost my thing!” You laughed, hitting his chest.

“Your what? I happen to be a thing.” 

How quickly he forgot his target when easier to pick fruit appeared.

“No, silly!” A practiced hiccup, “my little…”

“Your little…?”

Your fingers wiggled in the direction of your hip.

“Purse!” A beaming grin. He asked if you needed help finding it. “Well, how else am I gonna get another drink!” The hand on your waist fell to your hip and slunk lower. 

“Oh well, I could help ya with that.” He leaned in, looking around first as if he had a secret, “I have a room upstairs.”

You tutted, “No no, I am a married woman!” He lifted your left hand, turning it over in a dramatic search for a ring. “Well, engaged…” you diverted your gaze. He lifted his hand to his brow then and scanned the room like a sailor to the horizon. “He’s working late.” You whined.

Why did his kind of man always want the taken woman? Did they think the chase was more meaningful then? Did they feel like they’d won some tug-of-war with an invisible, unaware opponent?

Maybe they were hardwired to hoard resources.

You let him seat you at the bar, and when he ordered you a drink you asked to know your savior’s name. William.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor was none the wiser, smoking a cigarette under the streetlamp just off to the side of the hotel awning. He didn’t smoke often before you, but he found the lure of sitting on the porch passing a pill between you both too hard to fight. And soon enough the habit grew from a drinking pastime to just… something to do with his hands.

As Aubrey appeared, waiting for her driver to retrieve the car, Alastor tossed the butt to the street and walked up on her.

“I’m quite cross with you, Aubrey.” His tone was smiling as his hand slid behind her neck and tugged her away from the safety and lights of the awning.

“Oh! Alastor, I’m actually waiting for my car.” She struggled to keep up with his pace in her heels, weakly pointing back to where the valet had stood earlier. She resisted a little, the palm on the nape of her neck silently shutting her down.

“Nonsense. We have business together.” Alastor let his hand fall to her upper arm as he yanked her into the closest side street. “I hear you’ve been a very bad girl.”

Aubrey huffed, pulling back against him once, then twice, but ultimately acquiesced when she could see his car down the street.

“Fine, you can drive me home then.” A misplaced giggle, her survival skills dulled by ego.

He tossed her roughly against the car, hand gripping her face tightly. She tried to say his name, but his hold was so firm her jaw was locked.

“You’re going to get into my car now.” Alastor’s eyes had lost their pupil, an expanse of a seemingly endless dark brown in the heavy shadows left by the lamp’s light. When he let her face go, she rolled her eyes and pulled open the back seat door.

That wasn’t what he had meant, not there, but he closed the door behind her and got into the driver’s seat. He hadn’t brought the tarp tonight, not expecting to need it, so maybe the backseat was his best option regardless.

When he pulled away, she reminded him he didn’t know her address.

“I’m not taking you home. I told you. I have a bone to pick with you.” Alastor found himself incapable of putting on a ruse for her. His patience was entirely lost in his unraveling anger.

“Oooh? A bone, you say. Well, well.” Aubrey leaned forward onto the front seat, hands snaking down his shoulders and chest so she could nip at his ear, “Finally letting me have a ride.”

He had to set his right hand in the darkness of his lap to hide the tremble, a disgusted rage manifesting in uncommon ways. 

As her fingers found the buttons of his waist coat, Alastor struggled to see the road in front of him. His vision was going white, and then red. His blood pressure was so high he was nearly blind. 

And when two hot fingers broached the small space between buttons of his dress shirt and touched the bare skin of his chest, the car came to an abrupt halt. The force threw her into the backseat. 

Alastor slammed the front seat door shut before opening the back and caging her in. “I can’t stand another second of your existence.” She crawled backward, making room for him. “I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

Aubrey settled her back against the opposite door, “Oh, the petit mort.”

His head hung low in frustration, a growled  “No, the big one.” as he raked his fingers through his hair to keep from punching his own car seat.

“So I’ve heard.” She pulled up the hem of her dress slowly.

“For fucks sake Aubrey! I’m not using double entendre!” His hands wrapped around her neck. “Must I really remind you of what wrongs you’ve committed?!”

A brief panic finally came, “Wrongs?? Excuse you.”

He could have sworn the snap in his brain had been audible to her as he lost his last bit of patience.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Excuse me.” You settled back into the seat, having taken a bathroom break to down some water in secret. You weren’t trying to actually end up blacked out.

“Anyway,  that's how we secured the riverside house.” William leaned into you. You tried to sip your drink and found it empty, having managed to finish it absentmindedly while he rambled on about himself earlier. As you stared at him you let your eyes lose focus and drift into plans for the morning. You’d like biscuits. Alastor had some sausage he’d picked up the other day, maybe a little gravy and some eggs. It’d be like a Sunday meal nice families ate after church. You assumed. Out of the peripheral of your daydream you saw him tap the bar twice and hold up two fingers. “Charge to 1033.” He said. With the clarity of someone who wasn’t pretending to be drunk you quickly held up three.

William shot you a confused look.

“One for my darling.” He made a show of looking around, the bartender pausing. You gave him a confirmation nod, “Three, please.”

“And is he in the room with us now, Helen? I’m beginning to think he’s imaginary.”

It seemed a fine enough name to give him.

“No! But I made a promise. Or…,” you returned the lean, head resting on his shoulder, “are three drinks a little steep for you?“ With a huff, he pulled out a pair of C notes and set them on the bar. The bartender nodded, reaching for the top shelf. You whistled at the sight. Too much money for the total seven drinks he’d ordered, if you weren’t somewhere Alastor frequented you’d have slipped them under the lip of your stockings when the man wasn’t looking. He was charging the room anyway, the large bills were just for show…

“One reviver for the miss, one brandy for the sir, and a rye whiskey neat for the beau.” The bartender set the drinks down on red napkins. The whiskey sat between you both, and after a beat you realized you hadn’t actually told him what to make for Alastor. And come to think of it, your last drink hadn’t been a reviver at all but a brandy ordered by William.

“Ya know I stood up another woman to help you,” he said it into your cheek, stealing your attention by breaking your line of thought. His arm around your shoulder curled to hold you closer, “Don’t I get a reward for that?”

His breath reeked of sickeningly sweet brandy, the taste sticking to the back of your throat. Your head tilted back so you could look at him down your nose, right hand coming to rest on his thigh.

The heat of his body was radiating through the fabric of his pants and made your stomach turn. How many hot and sweaty bodies had you had the pleasure and displeasure of touching?

A smirk painted your face, remembering seeing sweat sticking to Alastor’s forehead the last time he fucked you. What had you done for that reward? Ah right, the somehow shocking act of not withholding praise for how well planned out his greenhouse was. How impressive he was to you in so many ways. You could have lingered on that recollection, on how Alastor set down his coffee and kissed you. And how he didn’t stop until you were both left undone and flustered. But movement stirred away the pleasant memory to bring you back to an unpleasant reality.

His hand roamed down your arm, uncomfortably warm palm on your exposed skin. 

“Oh, I know you did.” You said.

William chuckled, absolutely no idea what you were talking about and not particularly giving a shit. “Did I mention I have a room here?”

“Ten thirty three.” You repeated. 

He looked genuinely shocked, “How’d you know that?” The man was absolutely mystified.

“I— you just…,” your mask slipped in the face of such abject stupidity, “Lucky guess.” William drank his brandy slowly, mentioning you should bet on the ponies together. You nodded. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor didn’t care for strangulation. It took so much time and wasn’t particularly satisfying. No pleading, no screaming, no blood and gore. Just…. someone flailing beneath you and turning purple. Boring. 

He brought up the accusations before he began to squeeze, and her panic transformed to relief. “Oh that?” She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down, “Are you really miffed at me about that?”

“Yes, Aubrey! You condemned an innocent child to a horrid death!” His hands loosened, all of his neurons firing off to feel pain in his own heart. 

She rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t call them children. You seem so upset, hun. Did you have a mam-?”

The rest of the word was barely squeaked out of her, he couldn’t let her finish it. He wasn’t sure what face he made. But whatever it was, it scared her. The carefree way she’d been handling the interaction finally died, and he could register actual fear in her eyes then. 

But the rage just … withered. How many children had his mother loved and doted on before her last, much kinder position? How many Aubreys had she raised. It was nothing short of an overwhelmingly violent sadness that laced his finger together around her neck and tightened, the full weight of his body coming down to crush her airways. He wanted such sentiments to be smothered out of the world like the air in her lungs. If he killed enough, could he make a dent in their influence? He could try. For her. For his mother. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Ya know, I could take real good care of you. If that’s what’s stopping you from coming upstairs.” 

With a deep breath, you gulped the drink halfway down. “Your fella doesn’t need to know. I could even get you your own place, you could wait for me there when he’s late with work. Have dinner ready. Slip off my shoes like a good girl.”

“Trust me; you’ve got a better chance of her smacking you with your shoes than slipping them off like a maid.” Alastor was resting his elbow on the bar behind you, head leaning on his hand. “Hey doll. That one mine?” He pointed at the glass.

“Oh? Alastor is the fiancé?,” William gave off a snide laugh as he was interrupted, Alastor standing up and walking to come between you two, “This guy?! Everyone knows he’s a frigid bitch. You must be a dive alley-cat if you’re—,” Alastor’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, eliciting a sickening crack. He needed both hands to keep himself from falling down with William as he was knocked back out of his bar stool. Alastor’s feet slipped on the spilt brandy, causing him to seize the stool for momentary support.

Alastor took the glass of whiskey with his non-dominant hand and downed it. He cooed, “Top shelf, Georgie?” The bartender nodded. “Good choice. Picked a worthy sucker, sweetheart. Ready to peel?”

You watched William try to stand, glass stuck to his palm. He did manage to get on his knees, shouting at the staff who stood motionless and unphased behind the counter. They didn’t say anything at all, oddly, until Alastor extended his swelling hand to you.

“Have a good evening, sir.”

Alastor flashed his signature smile and guided you out of the hotel bar. You only got a few steps before quickly running back and snatching one of the 100$ bills from the counter. William would’ve taken it back from the bar anyway. What a waste!

When a waiter offered Alastor a warm and familiar look you had to wonder, did people really not know what he did in the darkness of the New Orlean’s alleys? Did a part of them not feel some kind of debt to him? Or was he just painfully friendly when socializing?

“Just to be clear,” Alastor let the doorman open the lobby door, “It’s not the accusation of sex work that compelled me to sock him. It’s the implication you’d be cheap.” He waved the valet from the car and opened the door for you, “If you chose to sell your companionship at true worth, his daddy’s money couldn’t even buy him a kiss.”

“Aww,” you smiled at him through the thin windowpane, “Would you really be so cavalier about such a job if I did?”

“Would I? Gosh that’d make retirement much quicker for me.” He slid into the driver's seat and the door shut with a sharp ting. As he took hold of the wheel he reclined to let his hand settle behind you on the backrest, and then you three were off. 

“Oh by the way, Aubrey’s in the backseat.”

You turned slowly, first coming into view were her tiny, shining silver shoes. Your eyes kept traveling; stocking covered calves and then the bottom of her dress just past her knees.

Alastor’s coat draped over her torso and shoulders caused you to flit to him, confirming his jacket was gone, and back to her. 

Her face looked like that of a sleeping passenger. 

No blood.

When the car was a few blocks from the hotel, you leaned back and lifted the jacket. Her abdomen was clean, the white of her dress pristine. At first her neck seemed clear of cuts or abrasions until you rode past a streetlamp and a beam of light revealed the slowly forming collar of bruises.

Special attention.

For a hair of a moment you began to gently cover her again, before remembering her crimes and dropping it on her unceremoniously.

“Trunk not good enough for her?”

“Got interrupted. Booked it back to you.” He shook his head and patted the seat in tandem.

What luck that just as he felt sure she was too far gone for revival, he let go over her neck and sat up in time for someone to notice him. Fishing in his jacket draped over the seat, he found his cigarette case just as—

“What exactly are you two doing?” An officer was flashing his light through the passenger side back window.

Alastor froze, Aubrey motionless between his legs and a cigarette dangling unlit between his lips. “You startled me, officer! We were just canoodling. But she’s gone and fallen asleep before the main event.”

The officer’s brass light shone down but couldn’t reach the dead woman’s face past the shadow cast by the car door and glass. “She alright?”

Alastor’s eyes drifted down to the deceased socialite, “Truth be told sir, she’s had a bit too much of the giggle water.��� Fishing your lighter from his waistcoat pocket, he lit this cigarette before setting the jacket over Aubrey like a gentleman.

“Alright y'all better get lost. Tell your moll this ain’t ladylike.” The officer tapped the window with his knuckle and when she didn’t stir just left with a huff.

Alastor was quick to leave the backseat and drive off, circling around at the next block to head back to the hotel.

“Is… everything alright?” You asked, very obviously concerned.

“Peachy! I just said we were necking before she passed out drunk.“ he leaned over and kissed your cheek, “Anything exciting on your end?”

Patting his leg you beamed up at him, “Always so quick on your feet! I don’t know why I worry so much.” His face lit up and you wanted nothing more than to launch into a praise filled rant that fueled his smile. But, you moved on to the question at hand. After a moment to think, you remembered ‘the best good deeds are done in the dark’. “Nope! Just got tipsy on William’s dime. An odd woman did touch my hair…,” you recounted every second, leaving out why you chose William, to Alastor. You hadn’t meant to, and he hadn’t actually asked, the evening’s events just seemed to flow out of you. The way he always added little comments and nodded made it feel like a conversation and not just you rambling. 

When the car was pulling into the driveway, you asked Alastor if you could drive it behind the house. Puzzled, he put it in park and let you sit between his legs. You started slowly, but quickly began to accelerate. As you approached the house you turned sharply to the left, right side tires ever so slightly leaving the ground. A sharp correction to the right to straighten out. One of his hands clutched you at the waist, the other gripping the seat.

He tried to form some kind of words but they came out a jumbled and panicked mash of sounds as you barreled toward the greenhouse. 

You slammed your foot on the brakes and Aubrey flew off the back seat and hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Ha!” You slapped the wheel, “I’ve been wanting to hear that sound the whole drive!” 

He used both arms now to squeeze you appreciatively, “You’re just the bee’s knees.” Alastor nuzzled into the back of your neck, truly feeling his heart flutter. You made him skip a beat. So many days and nights not even imagining such a pairing.

The best scenario he could think up was a partner who wouldn’t ask questions, who didn’t care to know, who was maybe a little too naive but otherwise capable. Even in his wildest dreams he hadn’t dared to think someone would exist who could support him.

And not just in the killing, which was a hurdle of course, but the other parts of him. The little sacrifices you made for him without complaint. 

What did he do for you, he worried. Your body was his on the occasions he wanted but never did you ask for him. You shared the housework equally. Yes he drove you around but your skills with the car were still new. Insignificant things, like making your coffee when he awoke first and waiting for you after work. With the detective still looking for connections, he couldn’t even properly introduce you or flaunt you around to his circles.

Like a flash of lightning taking down a tree, insecurity shook him. What on earth was keeping you there? Of all the people in New Orleans, how was he any more worth your time than the next?

If anything, he was nothing short of troublesome. His hold on you twisted from thankful to desperate.

Even the lovely evening out he had promised you, he’d left you alone in a strange place. A stranger had bought you more drinks than he had. 

“Would you like to go to the woods with me tonight? To dispose of Aubrey?” His lips swiped across the fabric of your dress as he said it.

The sudden advancement into his hobby took you by surprise. You hugged his arms against you, “Really? Are you sure?”

“If you don’t want to…”

“Is that what I said?”

“Well, no….”

“Don’t put words in my mouth! I absolutely want to go!” Your arms squeezed his.

He chuckled into your shoulder and gave your hip a pat, “Let me get her packaged up. You go rest your feet and I’ll come get you when I’m ready to go.”

You watched from the kitchen, the light he hung from the greenhouse ceiling setting the entire space aglow. When he finally emerged, his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and his hair was falling into his face, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose before he could push it back into place. He waved from the porch, and when you made it out to him he was already pulling out small bundles.

“We’ll bury the pieces in separate places.” He dragged out a small trash tin with the lid already clapped down. “And this goes into the water.”

The packages were like Tommy’s, but smaller. They fit easily into the trunk, and beside them he snuggly fit the metal bucket.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Ford was parked down a dirt road far from sight, taking a parcel at a time and a shovel, you followed him into the woods. 

You had to ask, why not just his land? Wasn’t that safer? Easier?

“Well, a skull found out here is easier to act shocked about than on my property.”

The ground was still soft, but you could imagine it was rock solid in winter. “Isn’t this dangerous? Aren’t you slowed down in the colder months?” You kept your eyes open wide, adjusting to the pitch black of the forest. The trees were too close and too full still to see the stars. But soon they’d brown and die, revealing the sky’s light. Revealing Alastor.

“Eh it’s mostly busy during mating season because the hunters come out in numbers. But in general I avoid being here in the very early morning hours.” He paused and you reached out for the shovel for your turn, “It’s not too bad overall.”

“They mate in fall. It’s almost fall now.” You widened your stance for balance and began to dig. 

“Yeeees but I’m not alone!” He chirped.

“Fine… just, don’t come out when I’m not able to join you. Just wait or, I don’t know, burn them or something.” You tried to dig fast, wanting to spare his injured hand another turn.

“Very ineffective, brings too much attention and the body never burns all the way. It’s still identifiable in many cases.” Alastor said it quickly, as he’d had nearly a lifetime to think of these things and test them. 

You huffed, “Well, fuck. Okay. Still.” You leaned over and offered your index finger, not looking at him as you did. He laughed before wiping his hand clean on his pants and hooking his with yours. 

A small scream erupted from you, startling him. Your short heel sunk into the dirt when you leaned to lock fingers. The sudden loss of balance startled you. “Sorry… flat shoes. I need flat shoes…these are gonna be the death of me.”

Alastor’s hand came to his heart, pounding in his chest, “Of us. My heart nearly stopped.”

You dug many holes, all of them quite small in radius, just wide enough to slip in what you needed to. After each was deep enough by some standard you didn’t know, he would untie the twine around the package and let the contents spill out and down into the little cylinderical pocket of dirt. 

The first package had her hands. Then next was her feet. Her arms in pieces and then later her legs. The hips, the chest and shoulders, and finally, her head. You were grateful for the darkness, not wanting to see her face now that it was no longer attached to her body. 

The brush was so thick and the woods so dense that you found it hard to distinguish the burial spots once they’d been filled in and covered up. He explained most people came out there with a purpose, not really noticing some disturbed dirt here and there. It’s not like they’re people sized.

“You’re just something else, ya know that?” You said it into the shadows and didn’t see him wince. But you somehow, accidentally, knew to clarify, “I’m always so impressed by your way of doing things. You’ve really thought it out well huh? I know I should worry less but it’s hard.”

Because of the shade you didn’t see the way his shoulders relaxed. You never made him regret your inclusion.

Alastor carried the bucket as you slowly made your way through the darkness. You could hear the sounds of bugs, though you couldn’t see any.  The water surprised you, his arm coming to stop you from walking into the bayou.

“In winter they’ll get really still, so I slow down then too. But we still have time, it’s not too cold yet for them.” He took off the lid, the smell of copper blossoming from the tin.

With practiced moves, he tossed the viscera as far as he could into the small inlet marsh of the river. 

Within seconds the water frothed and rolled with the snapping of powerful jaws.

“Gosh they’re so neat.” You said, reaching out into the darkness for his hand. You couldn’t see him looking at you as you watched the prehistoric animals dispose of his crimes.

He wanted to kiss you. To confess every little happiness you filled his formerly hollow chest with. But he held back. He knew better. He’d tried before, once. When he thought settling was better than nothing. It ended terribly. It was better to just exist beside you for as long as you’d entertain his company. If you knew, he thought, of all the futures he imagined with you, you’d just feel tied down by his hopes. You weren’t a small bird he could hold in his home. 

You promised to not get in his way. The least he could do was not cage you with his love. He wouldn’t hold you back.

“Alastor.”

“Yeah?” He said dreamily.

“I think… ” You fought the urge to scream at the sensation between your toes, “Aubrey dripped into my shoes.”

Alastor yanked the bucket away from you, the angle he haphazardly held at it with a single finger to hold your hand having caused the liquid remains to leak out.

“Ankle boots. Ankle boots, no heel.” You muttered, the shoe rinsed off in the water with a paranoid speed now squishing under your sole. The action was enough to draw attention to your shore, long and round snouts moving toward you in the night as you got rid of Aubrey. It was time to go. 

The drive home was dark and silent. The bucket and tarps rinsed with the gas can full of water he always kept in the oversized, custom built trunk. It had taken longer than you had realized, which just brought up renewed worry for his sleep schedule.

When you finally made it home and into the bedroom, he mumbled it was too late to shower. A coordinated grumble between you that you’d both just wash the sheets in the morning. Alastor sat on the end of the bed and bent down, your hand coming to his shoulder to stop him. 

Exhausted, aching, and quite confident you smelled of sweat coated dirt with the tiniest hint of dead Aubrey mixed with alive William (blood and brandy, respectively), you lowered yourself to your knees. You untied the waxed laces of the right shoe, made of a shiny brown leather, and slipped it off. 

Alastor felt his throat tighten as he had to blink to keep tears away. You always seemed to listen when he spoke. Really listened, even when he was just being playful. Another tiny sweetness piled onto the mountain you were currently burying him under. Another ounce of inadequacy tipped on his self measured scales.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Hush, I don’t have to do anything.” You said it and he laughed breathlessly knowing he’d heard it before and praying he’d hear it forever. “I want to.”

You set the left shoe beside the right. When you didn’t stand but instead stared at him patiently, Alastor undid his pants and lifted his hips to push them down. You folded them neatly beside his shoes. Feeling up his legs as if you couldn’t see them there in front of you, you found his sock garters. 

“Keep the socks, please. It’s getting chilly.” He undid his shirt and folded it on his lap. 

When he was in just his underwear and socks, you looked up at him and wondered if he knew. That this was the closest to expressing “I love you” you had ever been. The act itself perhaps far louder than any words could be.

Sitting back, he patted between his legs like he had in the car. As you sat, he undid the buttons down the back of your dress. Why were so many women’s clothing items made in a way that required two people?

In the mirror above the dresser you took in the sight. When the dress fell to your waist he kissed your shoulder and met you in the reflection.

“Quite a pretty couple, if I do say so myself.” He rested his chin where he had just kissed and smiled at you. “What did I do to deserve your attention?”

“Affection,” you corrected. “Aubrey got attention.” He nodded slightly. “I think it’s karma.” You watched his brow arch. “You’ve earned me. Whatever that means, or looks like. We were put together for a reason.”

It was the sappiest thing you’d ever said and a year ago you’d have laughed in someone’s face for saying it. If a character in a novel spewed it out in a confession you’d have closed the book. But you meant it. Every single word was part of the fact this was supposed to happen. The idea that any timeline existed where your paths never crossed gave you the shivers.

Alastor closed his eyes, exhaustion catching up quickly as comfort opened the door for it. That didn’t make any sense to him at all. Why would anyone, god or the devil, give him something good just for the sake of being a good thing. He was very plainly bad. There must be a catch. That fear he felt before, the fear of wanting something too much, reappeared. Turning its ugly head to him as if called by name. 

Why? He could feel something, someone, setting their sights on him. 

When he opened his eyes, you were there still, looking at him. A smile too sweet. He felt the compulsion to tell you to run. That if this was his karma, it would end the way he deserved. And he didn’t deserve happiness. He didn’t deserve you.

But instead he leaned down, lifted your dress, and unclamped your garters. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to cling to what good he had now. Even knowing he couldn’t possibly get to keep it. His fingertips delighted in rolling down the delicate nylon. He watched the red stained end loosen around your toes, a mental note to burn them before he continued his undressing.

“Lift your hips, my love. I’ll get you all ready for bed.” As he pressed forward and bent into you so he could slip off the stockings he turned to look at the you in front of him, “And I’ll keep you warm.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

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@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Haechan x fem!Reader x Jaehyun

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly ilichil. MLM behavior. Breast feeding. Lactation kink.

| wc: 1.6k

| aurora's note: originally written for my poly!ilichil x fem!oc fic. edited as much as possible to be reader friendly. also wrote this in the middle of the night, so i apologize for any errors

It was beginning to piss you off, the uncomfortableness from being so full throughout the morning. The baby'd woken up in the middle of the night, maybe around 2AM, screaming and crying, an obvious tell that she was hungry. Jungwoo brought her to yours and Mark's room, gently woke you up, then handed her over for you to feed. You were half awake the entire time. Mark was dead asleep, Jungwoo was brushing your hair with his fingers to comfort you, and the rest of the house was quiet. You were beginning to hate the fact that you were the only person in the family who could feed your daughter-- Sure, she would wean off eventually and move onto bottles, and then the boys could take turns; Until then, you were all she had.

But once she went back to sleep around 3AM in Jungwoo's room, you couldn't sleep. One of your breasts was still full and tender... The other was sore from being suckled, and as the sun rose, it began to feel full too. You tried to distract yourself. Watching movies in the living room, scrolling through videos on your phone, making a snack in the kitchen. Nothing worked. So you crawled back into bed, this time with Johnny who rolled over in his sleep to embrace you in his arms before the two of you crashed. And then there was more crying around 6AM. The whole house woke up finally, Jungwoo and Doyoung bringing the baby into the room while Johnny helped you sit up and get comfortable before taking her in your arms. You tried to help yourself by having her latch onto the opposite breast than before-- However, she wanted nothing to do with you. She was crying like she was hungry, but no matter what you did, she just wouldn't give in. So Doyoung took her back. Jaehyun and Haechan entered, both of them visibly exhausted, Haechan rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

"Oh, sweet girl, what is it, hmmm?" Jaehyun cooed while Doyoung handed her over to him. "Why're you giving your mom so much trouble?"

"Maybe she just had a nightmare?" Doyoung theorized.

"Maybe."

Slowly, she calmed down in Jaehyun's arms, the crying turning into coos that turned into snores. Doyoung offered to put her in the crib in his room since it was the furthest down the hall, so if she started crying again so early, no one else would be bothered by it. He and Jungwoo left with the baby, Johnny slowly slumped back into his pillows, and Haechan and Jaehyun turned like they were ready to leave.

"Wait--" you called out to them.

They both stopped.

"Please... It hurts..."

They turned to look at you, worried. What hurt? Did you need something? Whatever it was, they were always willing to help, just say the word and they would turn back time for you. So they approached you slowly while watching you struggle to get comfortable in bed, Johnny making more room for you to sit with the two of them.

“She won’t drink from the right side,” you whined. “It fucking hurts now.”

Haechan climbed onto the bed to settle between you and Johnny, his hands drifting upwards to massage your sore right breast. Jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed at your left side.

“They’re uneven. They’re full. It hurts like a bitch to have her just sucking on it for hours and have nothing happen. I’m so fucking over it. Please, just do something…”

A direct request was unnecessary by that point. Jaehyun and Haechan were like sharks lured into bait the way they were staring directly at your tits, both of them eagerly trying to free you again from your maternity clothing. Haechan was the first to do something— The second you were free from the restraints of your bra, he leaned in to wrap his lips gently around the sensitive nipple of your right side which hurt the most. You moaned with relief. It wasn’t sexual, not this time at least… In the past, especially when the boys first came home from tour to see you so, so pregnant, Jae and Hyuck couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, they were always trying to fuck you or at least suck on your tits. Now that there was a baby taking everyone’s attention and all of your physical wellness, they had retreated slightly in order to let you focus on getting better… But you needing them so badly that you had to beg for their help made it impossible for them to hold back anymore; and once Jaehyun began sucking on your left nipple, you couldn’t help but feel completely as peace with the fact that you were finally being given the aid you so desperately needed after weeks of nothing but diapers, baby vomit, and having issues getting her to latch on to you.

Jae looked up at you through his lashes. He could tell that the baby had drunk from that side earlier so it was more sore than full, which meant that he had to be more kind to you than Hyuck who was eagerly sucking and massaging, moaning quietly as he did so. The fullness that kept you up all morning was finally fading… You felt tired all of a sudden. They did you a favor by drinking up everything stored away inside of your body just so you could get another few hours of rest before inevitably waking up again with that same, unbearable fullness and a crying baby down in Doyoung’s bedroom.

Between the two of them, Haechan was more into the idea of the milk aspect. He loved the taste, and the intimacy of having his hair played with while he suckled, drinking every single drop until both of you were satisfied. As for Jaehyun, the attraction came out of wanting to help you. Knowing that he was the one rushing to your aid, the one watching as you melted and thanked him for getting rid of the soreness, your body slumping against his, all of it made Jae swoon. He’d do anything for your family. It was the most important thing in the entire world to him— Helping you out, no matter the request or the cost was the best thing you could ask of him.

Hyuck pulled away first to catch his breath. As he did so, a bit of milk dribbled out of your nipple and slid down your breast. He immediately went to catch it with his tongue, licking up the trail of liquid to make sure he got every bit of it before returning to sucking on you. Your hands found warmth in his long brown hair that he refused to cut ever since the baby was born because he loved how she would reach up to tug on it when he’d play with her.

Jae pulled away next, his hand still cupping the underside of your breast, fingers gently kneading the fat. “Feeling better?”

All you could do was nod in your state of tranquility.

He quietly chortled. “Should’ve woken one of us up earlier.”

“I felt bad,” you replied.

“Don’t,” Hyuck said. “We’d rather lose sleep than see you in pain.” And then he went right back to his task with a satisfied groan and a roll of his hips into the bed.

Jaehyun moved one of his hands down to your thighs for him to massage that too in tandem with your tit. With nothing else dribbling out or left to suck on, he knew that you were tapped out on his side, so all he could do was try to keep you relaxed while Haechan played the catch up game on the other side in order to even you out like you asked for.

“We’ll start weaning her off this week,” Jae said. “Need to give you a break so it doesn’t keep getting this bad. We’ll make a schedule for bottle feeding, too, that way it’s fair.”

You thought about how all of that was already decided in your mind hours ago when you were sitting on the couch watching TV, but hearing Jaehyun say it out loud with Haechan and a half-asleep Johnny as witnesses made you feel like it was real, that the boys would finally get to chip in so you could sleep for an entire night.

Hyuck pulled away while licking his lips and sighing heavily. He was done, too, the pain in your breasts subsiding at a rapid pace.

“Thank you,” you whispered, sinking into the bed some more.

Hyuck kissed you passionately, the taste of your milk on his hot tongue.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, can you do it in one of your rooms,” Johnny grumbled as he rolled onto his stomach and stuffed his face full of his pillow.

Jae pulled Hyuck away from you, muttering something about how you looked too tired to have sex, and that you needed to rest before the baby would wake up again. Haechan seemed a bit disappointed, but he was also incredibly understanding. So despite his hard-on in his pajama pants, Haechan adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose then slid off the bed after Jaehyun leaned in to kiss your cheek. You wanted to ask for them to stay or at least help you into one of their rooms where the three of you could cuddle together, but exhaustion hit you like a truck in a single instant, preventing you from forming a coherent sentence. They just laughed at how cute you were when you were that tired. Then with another kiss and a quiet series of “I love you,” they left, and Johnny reached to scoop you into his arms again.

[kick-a-long]

i find it so desperately sad that goyim generally would be so much less antisemitic if jews started physically fighting back with guns or sticks in every country. calling for the murder of muslims all over the world, if the jewish population was big enough to have large scary groups of crazy fringe fundamentalist synagogues all over the world, a billion strong, that preached murder and hate so goyim could look down on jews like some noble savage in need of assistance and western education and protection. so we could be reformed in obvious patronizing ways because there were so many of us that we had militant violent fringe extremists, like christians and muslims have, mixed in with the normal jews.

if jews didn't have such a reputation for success and intelligence maybe conspiracy theories would stop blaming us for controlling the world. if we felt less in danger maybe we wouldn't be so obsessed with long term survival.

is antisemitism some warped form of envy? maybe. what sucks is that jews are no better or worse than anyone else. some jews are brutes and some are the most wonderful people imaginable, just like any other group. what sucks is we don't all live up to the reputation of tactical geniuses and wizards with mind control magic. all of us jews are just tired and abused humans who have lived with 2000+ years of generational trauma and the endless fall out from a popular jewish book written 3000+ years ago describing the best practices of jewish culture. It has some great stories, histories, life advice, diet recommendations, hygiene, and rules about how to treat others.

is that such a crime?

trying to show a path forward? not demanding anyone else follow those rules but wanting to do our best to follow them anyway? how to live a good life that makes the world better and makes you proud to have been on earth for the time you were there? jews fail to do this all the time, just like everyone else. I fail all the time. why are people so obsessed with that? people say shylock is a stereotyped antisemitic character but,

"I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."

so why do jews always have to be the better man? why do we have to apologize for being angry and sad and hating the people that attack us? that was written by Shakespeare, a christian in the 1600s who often was in debt to jewish money lenders, the only profession left to jews at that time. even he saw the double standard. it makes a good point.

now, i don't want vengeance, i don't want violence, but i feel vengeful. i feel angry that i am unsafe because of play actors and terrorist supporters who want revenge for jews existing but scream bloody murder when jews refuse to dig their own graves, beg forgiveness for ever being born, and lay down in them to be mocked and pissed on and abused in the worst ways imaginable for the entertainment and conquest of it. i want peace with them. they are as human as i am, full of foibles and anger. i want nothing to do with them. i want them to never come near a jew again for the rest of time.

i am sad. all i want is to feel my feelings and advocate for what is the most ethical and practical work around to a world filled with unending suffering while i am still alive. i want them on thier side to live in the world they want and me on my side to live in the world i want. why don't these children of all ages, lost in delusions of fantastical battles and ultimate good and evil, see that? why can't I be a human first as well as a jew first? why do they ask me to pick? why am i not allowed to pick?

it's been almost a year. we're all so tired.

I'm going to a music festival. I'm trying to decide whether to wear a star. why is it dangerous to wear a star around my neck?

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER SEVEN

“i want something that i know is real”

pairings — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6.3k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — the last chapter 🥲 i can’t even put into words how much i appreciate the love and support even after deleting my blog seeing the same accounts comment and like these chapters has never failed to make me happy! i am beyond grateful. if you’re still interested this couple, i’ll be releasing blurb series. the first one is posted and requests are open <3

masterlist

the room was a blur of activity, voices overlapping as the medical team worked efficiently around jude. he sat there, trying to focus on the steady stream of questions and instructions being thrown his way, but his mind kept drifting back to the moment it all went wrong.

the match had been intense, emotions running high, and jude had let his temper get the best of him. he remembered the argument with the opposing player, the heated words exchanged, the rush of adrenaline that followed. it was all so vivid in his mind—how he’d felt the anger simmering beneath his skin, how he’d wanted to prove himself in that split second, to win the ball, to show he wasn’t one to back down.

but then it happened. they both went up for the header, and time seemed to stretch out in front of him. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he focused on the ball, his body moving instinctively. he remembered the sensation of losing his balance, the way the ground seemed to rise up to meet him, the sickening thud as his head hit the turf. the world tilted, the lights above blurring into a dizzying swirl, and for a moment, everything went black.

now, back in the medical room, jude felt the residual throbbing in his head, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart. his family was there—his mom, denise, hovering close by with worry etched into her features; his dad, mark, standing stoically but with an unmistakable tension in his posture; and his younger brother, jobe, sitting quietly in the corner, his wide eyes filled with concern.

y/n was there too, but she kept her distance, her eyes avoiding his. jude could tell she was upset—really upset—by the way she kept herself apart from the others, by the tightness in her expression that she couldn’t quite hide. she only stepped forward when one of the other medics called for her, her movements precise and professional, but there was an underlying tension in everything she did.

jude couldn’t shake the feeling that she was mad at him, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. maybe it was because he’d been reckless, because he’d let his emotions get the better of him on the pitch. maybe it was because she’d seen the whole thing happen, the way he went down, the way he didn’t get back up right away. the thought of her worrying, of her being scared for him, gnawed at him.

they ran through the tests—checking his reflexes, his coordination, asking him questions to assess his memory and cognition. jude answered as best he could, but his focus kept drifting back to y/n. he hated that she was so distant, that she wouldn’t even look at him. it hurt more than the injury itself.

“he’s going to be okay, right?” denise asked one of the medics, her voice trembling slightly.

“we’re running all the necessary tests, mrs. bellingham,” the medic replied calmly, “but so far, everything looks stable. we’ll have a better idea once we review the scans.”

jude’s parents exchanged a worried glance, but denise nodded, trying to stay strong. jobe looked over at jude, his young face pale with concern.

“you’ll be fine, jude,” jobe said softly, trying to sound confident, though his voice wavered just a bit.

jude managed a small smile, wanting to reassure his brother, but the heaviness in his chest remained. when the tests were finally over, his mom asked if he needed help getting home, and mark added, “we can get you settled in, jude. don’t worry about anything.”

“actually,” denise said, glancing over at y/n, “maybe y/n could take you home? you two spend a lot of time together, and she knows how to take care of you.”

the room seemed to freeze at that suggestion, the tension thickening. jude saw the way y/n stiffened at his mom’s words, how she hesitated before nodding, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“yeah… sure. i’ll take him home,” y/n said quietly, her voice tinged with something jude couldn’t quite place.

jude watched as y/n carefully checked his vitals, her fingers deftly adjusting the blood pressure cuff around his arm. even in her quiet, focused state, she was breathtaking. he couldn’t help but study her—how the light caught in her braids, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, and how every now and then, her lips would press into a thin line, as if she was holding something back. he knew she was upset with him, and it pained him more than the throbbing in his head.

he thought back to earlier, to how her distance had been like a wall between them, and how badly he wanted to break through it. it wasn’t just that she was pulling back; it was the way she did it, so carefully and deliberately, as if she was trying to protect herself from him. it killed him to think that his actions had made her feel this way, that he’d been the cause of her worry, of her pain. he’d been reckless, and now she was paying the price for it.

“baby,” he whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

y/n froze at the sound of his voice, her hand stilling on his arm. for a moment, she didn’t move, and jude’s heart sank, fearing that he’d overstepped, that he’d made things worse. but then she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and jude felt his heart crack open.

“why are you crying?” he asked gently, reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

y/n shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to find the right words. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m sorry for being so distant… it’s just—” she paused, taking a shaky breath, her eyes glistening as she continued, “the replay looked so bad, jude. i thought you had a brain injury, or worse… and i couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened to you.”

jude’s heart ached at her words, at the raw emotion in her voice. he could see how much she was struggling, how much this had affected her, and it made him feel even worse for having been the cause of it. he shushed her gently, his hand moving to cradle her face, trying to offer her some comfort.

“hey, i’m okay,” he murmured, guiding her hand to his cheek so she could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingers. “i’m right here, love. i’m okay.”

y/n let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… i feel it every time you go out there, every time you risk your body like that. and today, seeing you go down like that… it scared me so much. i couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

her voice cracked, and jude could see how much she was holding back, how hard she was trying to keep it together. he wanted to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she needed to get this out, to say what was on her heart.

“it’s not just today, jude,” she went on, her voice trembling with emotion. “i think… i think i’ve always felt this way, even before i realized it. it’s like, every time i see you, my heart just… it does this thing where it skips a beat, and i can hardly breath. i try to ignore it, but i can’t.”

she paused, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her courage. jude held his breath, sensing that she was about to say something that would change everything between them.

“i love you,” she finally confessed, the words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “i’m in love with you, jude. i’ve probably always loved you… from the moment i laid eyes on you, you just… you never left me alone. no matter how much i tried to keep things professional, to keep my distance, you kept finding ways to break through. and i’m scared, jude. i’m so scared of what this means, of what could happen… but i can’t ignore it anymore. i love you, jude.”

the weight of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and full of meaning. jude felt his heart swell with emotion, a rush of warmth flooding through him at her confession. she loved him. she loved him. it was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, everything he’d been hoping for since the moment he first saw her.

he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, as if he could protect her from all the fears and uncertainties that were swirling around them. “i love you too,” he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since that day you took care of me when i was sick… maybe even before that. you’re everything to me, y/n. everything.”

she clung to him, her breath hitching as she tried to process the magnitude of what they’d just shared. jude pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he breathed her in, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin. he’d been so scared of losing her, so afraid that he’d pushed her too far, but now… now everything felt right.

“i’m sorry i scared you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “i never want to make you worry like that again. but i promise you, y/n, i’ll always do my best to come back to you. always.”

y/n nodded, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she held onto him, her heart finally at peace. “i know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “i know, jude. and i’ll always be here for you. no matter what.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of them in that room, together. for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was exactly as it should be. they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

the morning light streamed through the curtains of y/n’s bedroom, casting a warm glow on the space as jude slowly blinked awake. the memories of last night still lingered in the air between them—soft confessions of love that had left them both feeling light and warm, a tenderness that neither of them could shake off.

jude turned his head, eyes landing on y/n, who was already up and dressed, fussing with something at her bedside table. he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her, still wrapped up in her oversized t-shirt that he had insisted she wear—one of his favorites that practically swallowed her whole, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. she was gorgeous, and he felt a twinge of guilt for making her worry so much yesterday, the fear in her eyes when he’d gotten hurt replaying in his mind.

“good morning, mi amor,” she said softly, noticing he was awake. the endearment slipped easily from her lips, a habit she hadn’t quite realized she’d picked up. she leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, mindful of his injury. “how are you feeling?”

“better,” jude replied, his voice still thick with sleep. “could get used to waking up like this.”

y/n smiled, brushing a hand through his curls, and for a moment, they both just enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

but jude, ever the tease, wasn’t content with just that. he slid his hand to the back of her knee, tugging her gently closer. “you know, you could make me feel even better if you come back to bed…”

she rolled her eyes playfully, swatting his hand away. “nice try, bellingham. doctor’s orders—no physical activity that could aggravate your head, and that includes whatever you’re trying to start.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “stop teasing me, baby. you can’t just look all sexy in my shirt and then not let me touch you.”

“i’m not teasing you,” y/n shot back, trying to hide her smile. “i’m just trying to keep you safe, you big baby. besides, i’m not the one who decided to start a fight on the pitch.”

“i wasn’t fighting,” jude mumbled, though he knew it was a weak defense. “just... heated discussions.”

“uh-huh,” she said, not buying it for a second. “well, heated discussions or not, you’re under my care now, so no funny business. doctor’s orders.”

jude pouted, but he knew she was right. still, it didn’t stop him from reaching out to grab her wrist, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. “just five more minutes, please?” he pleaded, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made it hard for her to resist.

“five minutes,” y/n relented, settling beside him and letting him pull her close. she felt his warmth seep into her, and despite her better judgment, she let herself relax into him, her head resting on his chest. “but no funny business.”

“promise,” jude murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. he felt her sigh against him, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, everything felt right in the world.

as they lay there, the lightness of their confession still hanging between them, jude couldn’t help but think about how much he adored her, how every little thing she did seemed to make him fall even harder. the way she fussed over him, how she was constantly updating his family on his condition, how she’d made sure he was as comfortable as possible—he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved how close she was with his mum. every time y/n picked up her phone to send another update, jude couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. knowing that his family trusted her, that his mum was reassured by her care, made his heart swell.

“i like that you and my mum are close,” jude admitted quietly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. “makes me so happy.”

“she’s wonderful,” y/n said, tilting her head to look up at him. “and she cares about you so much. i’m just glad i can help ease her worries a bit.”

“she likes you, you know,” jude said, his voice teasing. “she keeps asking me when i’m gonna make an honest woman out of you.”

y/n laughed softly, but she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest at his words. “oh, is that so? and what did you tell her?”

“told her that you’re mine, and that’s all that matters,” he replied with a grin, pulling her closer. “but don’t worry, baby. i’ll work on the ‘honest woman’ part.”

she blushed, the implications of his words making her heart race. “you better, my mom and aunties have the wedding already planned. you can’t put a price on me, mr. bellingham. do you think you deserve me?”

“i know i do because you love me. no other man could take care of you like i can,” jude shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “yeah, yeah. now, let me check your head before you get any more ideas.”

“always so bossy,” jude teased, though there was no bite to his words. “turns me on.”

y/n huffed a laugh, gently moving his face away with a light shove. “don’t even start,” she said, though she couldn’t help the fondness in her voice. “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“i am resting,” he protested, catching her hand in his. “just resting better now that you’re here.”

y/n shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, leaning down to brush her lips against his once more. “now behave, or i’ll have to call your mum and tell her you’re being difficult.”

“you wouldn’t dare,” jude gasped, feigning shock.

“try me,” she shot back, smirking as she sat up to check his bandage. “now, sit still, or i’ll add ‘uncooperative patient’ to my report.”

jude couldn’t help but laugh, loving how easily they fell into this playful banter. the way she cared for him, how she balanced between strict and loving—it made him fall even more for her. and as they spent the day together, with her tending to his every need and him trying to push her buttons just enough to get a reaction, jude couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this—a life where they shared these little moments, where she was always there to look after him, to keep him in line, to love him the way she did.

and as the day drew on, with the light fading and the warmth of their shared confessions still lingering, jude found himself feeling more content than he ever had. because in her, he had found everything he’d ever wanted—someone who challenged him, cared for him, and loved him with a heart so pure and true that he couldn’t help but love her back just as fiercely.

and for jude, that was more than enough.

the next day, y/n’s place was a full house. jude had a bit of time off to recover, and it seemed like everyone wanted to pitch in, making sure he got better. the sun streamed through the windows, filling the space with warmth as laughter echoed off the walls. y/n’s mom had arrived early, her arms full of groceries and herbal remedies she swore would have jude back on his feet in no time.

denise, jude’s mom, wasn’t far behind, bringing homemade soup that she claimed was a family secret for healing. it didn’t take long for y/n’s mom and denise to strike up a conversation, the two women instantly connecting as they compared notes on how to best take care of their kids. y/n watched them from the kitchen, her heart swelling with affection at how easily they got along. it felt right, having both families together like this.

jude, seated on the couch, couldn’t help but smile as he observed the scene. the sight of y/n moving around her home, effortlessly playing hostess, made him feel a sense of contentment he hadn’t known he needed. he loved seeing her like this, surrounded by the people she loved, comfortable in her own space. and it didn’t hurt that she kept sneaking glances his way, her eyes soft with affection every time they met his.

“hey auntie,” jude called out with a grin when y/n’s mom entered the living room, holding up a jar of some mystery concoction. “what’s that you’ve got there?”

y/n’s mom shot him a mock-serious look, her lips twitching with amusement. “this, my child, is going to help you heal faster than anything those doctors can give you.”

jude chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “i believe you, auntie. if it means getting better faster, i’m all for it.”

she finally cracked a smile, her eyes warm as she looked at him. “that’s what i like to hear. now, i know denise here has her soup, but you’re going to take this too. we’ve got to get you back on that pitch, don’t we?”

“yes, ma’am,” jude replied, his tone respectful, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “you’re the boss.”

“good boy,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately before turning to y/n. “and you, my beautiful daughter, make sure he takes this every morning. no slacking, got it?”

y/n nodded, trying to suppress her grin. “yes, mama. i’ll make sure of it.”

meanwhile, jobe and y/n’s brother, mateo, were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. they’d hit it off immediately, both sharing a love for football and an endless supply of banter.

“so, how’s it feel to be the little brother of a superstar?” mateo teased, nudging jobe with his elbow.

jobe rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “it’s not too bad, i guess. but don’t tell jude i said that. his ego’s big enough as it is.”

mateo laughed, clapping jobe on the back. “don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. besides, i’m pretty sure he knows it already.”

“oh, he definitely does,” jobe said, glancing over at his brother. “but you know what? he deserves it. he’s worked hard to get where he is.”

“true,” mateo agreed, his tone more serious now. “and from what i’ve seen, he’s a good guy too. you’re lucky to have him as a brother.”

jobe nodded, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, i am. and it’s nice to see him happy, you know? especially with y/n. she’s good for him.”

mateo glanced over at his sister, who was now standing with jude, both of them laughing at something y/n’s mom had said. “yeah, she is,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “they’re good for each other.”

as the day went on, the house was filled with warmth and laughter. y/n’s mom continued to fuss over jude, making sure he was comfortable and well-fed. denise joined in, the two women bonding over their shared love for their children and their determination to see jude back to full health.

“you know, jude,” y/n’s mom said at one point, sitting beside him on the couch, “you’re like a son to me now. you take care of my daughter, and we’ll take care of you.”

jude felt a lump form in his throat at her words, the sincerity in her tone hitting him right in the chest. “thank you, auntie,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “that means a lot to me.”

she reached out, patting his cheek with a motherly affection that made him feel warm all over. “you’re a good boy, jude. we’re lucky to have you in our family.”

he smiled at that, his heart swelling with gratitude. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his eyes meeting y/n’s across the room. she smiled back at him, her eyes filled with so much love it made his chest tighten.

“he really is,” denise chimed in, her voice light and full of pride. “and we’re so grateful to have y/n in his life. she’s been nothing but a blessing.”

“oh, don’t get me started on how much i love that girl,” y/n’s mom said with a laugh. “she’s always been the best of us.”

jude listened to them talk, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. he loved that their families were coming together like this, that the people he cared about most were finding comfort and companionship in each other. it made everything feel more real, more solid. like they were building something that would last.

as the afternoon wore on, the atmosphere remained light and filled with love. y/n’s mom kept him supplied with tea and herbal remedies, while denise made sure he had everything else he needed. jobe and mateo continued their banter, occasionally roping jude in when they needed a third opinion on whatever argument they were having.

the warm hum of conversation filled y/n's living room as their families mingled effortlessly, laughter spilling into the air. y/n sat nestled comfortably beside jude, his arm slung lazily over her shoulders as they watched their families interact like they’d known each other for years. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, bonding over cooking tips, while her brothers hovered around the snack table, throwing sly glances her way every now and then.

carlos, always the one to start trouble, leaned back with a mischievous smirk. “so jude, be honest,” he called out, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. “are you tired of how bossy y/n is? how many times has she told you what to do?”

mateo snickered beside him, chiming in. “yeah, man, because we know y/n—she’s always telling us off.”

without missing a beat, jude grinned, a cheeky glint in his eye. “oh, trust me,” he said, voice dropping suggestively, “i don’t mind her bossing me around… especially when—”

y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she shot up from the couch, grabbing at jude’s arm. “don't you dare finish that sentence,” she groaned, trying to pull away, but he only laughed, dragging her back down to his side with ease, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, to which y/n met with a playful sideways glance.

“what? i was just being honest,” he teased, his voice low but full of amusement.

her brothers looked visibly disgusted. alejandro covered his face with his hand. "we don’t need to know what happens behind closed doors, man.”

mateo pointed at them both, face scrunched in mock disgust. “yeah, no one wants to hear about our baby sister doing… whatever that is.”

“seriously, pack it up,” carlos added, shaking his head. “this is a family gathering, not… whatever this is.”

y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you’re all so dramatic.”

“seriously,” jude added with a smirk, pulling her closer. “it’s just because i’m the only one here who knows how to keep a woman like y/n happy.”

y/n's eyes widened as she pinched his side, hissing under her breath. “jude, shut up or i'll kill you!”

“what?” jude laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “it’s the truth.”

“god, jude,” mateo groaned, dramatically covering his face. “that’s so corny. i think i just threw up in my mouth a little.”

alejandro waved a hand in front of his face. “someone send this boy back to england. we get it, you’re obsessed with my sister.”

jude only laughed harder, leaning into the joke. “what can i say? i’m a man in love.”

carlos pretended to gag. “pack it up, hermano. we don’t need to see all that.”

alejandro shook his head, feigning disgust. “we’ll be fine without my baby sister getting mounted by her boyfriend infront of us, thanks. but really, y/n—how did you manage to do this to a man. he's too soft. it's disgusting.”

“right?” mateo agreed. “this dude was supposed to be cool. now he’s all… whipped.”

jude just laughed, squeezing her affectionately. “hey, i was always a charmer. i won you guys over, didn’t i?”

“please. just stop speaking,” mateo groaned again, holding up his hands as if to ward off more cheesiness. “i beg of you.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. despite the relentless teasing, she knew how much her brothers cared about her, and seeing how easily jude fit into their dynamic made her heart swell.

their banter continued, the playful teasing bouncing back and forth, but through it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. despite the jokes and teasing, it was clear how much her brothers cared—not just for her, but for jude too. and seeing their two families blend so seamlessly made her heart swell with happiness.

as the day drew to a close, y/n found herself sitting beside jude on the couch, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched jobe and mateo argue about something trivial. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing like they’d known each other for years.

“if we get more days like this. i’ll die a happy man,” jude murmured, his voice soft in her ear.

“today was a good day,” y/n agreed, her voice just as quiet. “i’m glad everyone came together like this.”

“me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you, y/n.”

she smiled, turning her head to look up at him. “i love you too, jude.”

and in that moment, with their families around them and the love they shared filling the room, everything felt perfect. they were building something real, something lasting. and y/n knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

the next morning, jude woke up with an idea. it was simple, but it felt like the right thing to do. after the whirlwind of the past few days—the stolen kisses, the moments they shared, and y/n taking care of him when he was sick—he knew she deserved something special. something that would show her just how much she meant to him without overwhelming her with words.

his plan came together quickly, thanks to her brothers and jobe, who were more than willing to help out. while y/n was busy at the training facility, working her usual long hours, they got to work.

later that evening, when y/n came home, jude was already waiting for her at the door, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous smile.

“what’s with that look?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, already suspicious but curious.

he chuckled, reaching for her hand. “come with me. i’ve got a surprise for you.”

“another one? you’ve been full of surprises lately,” she teased, letting him gently pull her toward the car, her heart already racing a little with excitement. there was something about the way he held her hand, firm but soft, that made her feel like whatever he had planned would be unforgettable.

they drove through the city, the setting sun casting a soft golden glow over madrid’s streets. slowly, the cityscape gave way to quieter roads, the urban sprawl replaced by the peaceful, open stretch toward the coast. y/n glanced at jude, who was focused on the road but never let go of her hand. her mind was buzzing, trying to piece together what he was planning, but her heart told her to simply trust him. whatever it was, it was going to be special.

after a while, jude pulled up to a secluded beach just outside the city. the gentle sound of waves greeted them as they stepped out of the car, the salty air filling their lungs. the beach was completely empty except for one beautiful setup by the shore—a large canopy draped in soft white fabric, twinkling fairy lights strung across the top, with a low table set for two underneath. candles flickered gently in the evening breeze, and a cozy arrangement of blankets and cushions were scattered across the sand.

y/n’s jaw dropped. “jude… what is this?”

“i wanted to do something for you,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “you’ve done so much for me. taking care of me, introducing me to your family… i wanted to make tonight about you. no distractions, just us. and your brothers—alejandro, matteo, and carlos and jobe helped me out.”

her heart melted at the thought. she looked around the beach, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it all was. “this is… this is incredible,” she whispered.

“you deserve it,” he said, his voice gentle as he took her hand again, leading her down toward the canopy. “come on, let’s eat.”

as they sat under the glow of the fairy lights, the waves lapping quietly at the shore, jude couldn’t stop watching her. the way her eyes sparkled as she took everything in, the soft smile that never left her lips—it made his heart swell. this was it. this was where he wanted to be, with her, always.

“you really went all out for this,” y/n murmured, brushing her hand across the soft blanket beneath her.

“well, i had some help,” jude chuckled. “alejandro’s got a real eye for this kind of thing. matteo and carlos handled the heavy lifting, and jobe… well, he mostly just took notes for when it’s his turn.”

y/n laughed, the sound like music to jude’s ears. “i can’t believe you got them to do all this without me noticing.”

jude shrugged, grinning. “they love you. and i may have told them it was payback for you taking care of me when i was sick.”

her smile widened, her heart swelling even more at the thought of her brothers working with jude to make this night so special for her. “they’re going to lord this over me forever, you know. especially alejandro.”

jude leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, he did say something about being ‘the best brother ever,’ but honestly? i think he’s just happy to see you happy.”

y/n’s chest tightened with emotion. her brothers and jude—these were the people who mattered most to her. to see them come together like this, to make her feel so loved, so cherished, it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

they ate, laughed, and talked for hours, their conversation flowing easily as the stars twinkled overhead. the world around them grew quieter, as if the night itself was making room for just the two of them. at one point, jude reached across the table, taking her hand, his thumb gently tracing circles over her knuckles.

“i’ve never had anything like this before,” he said quietly, his voice thoughtful.

y/n looked up from her plate, her brow furrowing slightly. “like what?”

“this,” jude said, gesturing vaguely at the beach setup, but meaning so much more. “family. love. everything coming together the way it has. it’s like… everything’s falling into place.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. she could see it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity behind his words. he wasn’t just talking about the night. he was talking about her, about them. about everything they’d been building together. and in that moment, it felt like the last piece of her heart finally clicked into place.

“me too,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly. “after everything with javier… i never thought i’d feel safe again. but with you, i do.”

jude’s hand tightened around hers, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “you are safe with me,” he murmured against her temple. “always.”

y/n closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. this was it. this was everything. and when jude leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

when they pulled away, her eyes met his, and for a second, everything else fell away. it was just them, under the stars, with the sound of the ocean in the background.

“i love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

jude’s eyes lit up, his smile spreading slowly across his face. “i love you too, baby. you’re my everything.”

y/n’s heart swelled with a deep, unspoken gratitude. her brothers were her world, and jude, knowing how much they meant to her, had woven them into this moment effortlessly. it was more than she could ever ask for, more than she could ever express. how does he do it? how does he always make everything feel so right?

as a comfortable silence settled between them, the waves crashing softly against the shore, a playful thought popped into y/n’s mind. she glanced at jude, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she stood, slowly stepping towards him with an unmistakable intent in her eyes.

jude’s brow quirked up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “and what do you think you’re doing?” he teased, already sensing where this was going.

y/n settled onto his lap, her legs on either side of his hips, hands lightly resting on his chest. she leaned in, her lips just inches from his. “we’re alone,” she whispered coyly, her breath warm against his skin. “and as your team doctor... i think you’re officially cleared for physical activity.”

jude's eyes darkened with playful intent, his hands instinctively finding her hips, thumbs grazing her skin in soft, deliberate circles. “yeah? what’d you have in mind?” his voice was low, dripping with that teasing challenge that always made her heart race.

without another word, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a slow, deep kiss that left no room for questions. her fingers trailed up to cup his jaw, pulling him closer as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them beneath the starlit sky.

jude responded immediately, his hands tightening their grip, pulling her impossibly closer until there was nothing between them but the warmth of their bodies and the shared rhythm of their heartbeats. time felt like it stood still, the only thing that mattered was the way she made him feel—like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

when they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, jude's lips quirked into a crooked grin. “you'll have to clear me like that everytime, baby,” he teased, his voice a husky rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

y/n bit her lip, her gaze still playful as her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “well, i take my job very seriously.”

he let out a soft laugh, his hand moving up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “you make me crazy, you know that?” his tone was teasing, but there was a depth behind it, a weight to the words that made her heart squeeze with affection.

she stared into his eyes, her heart swelling with a sudden rush of emotion she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i love you, jude,” she whispered softly, her voice barely above a breath but carrying all the weight of her feelings.

his teasing smile softened into something tender as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “i love you too, y/n,” he whispered back, his arms wrapping tighter around her as though he never wanted to let her go. “more than anything.”

they sat there, wrapped up in each other, the sound of the ocean serenading their quiet moment, and for y/n, there was no doubt in her mind—this, right here, was exactly where she was meant to be.

© PDRIESTA 2024

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[reonnex]

The infantilization of book!Wylan and show!Wylan really needs to be looked at.

This isnt a call out, or trying to hate on anyone, just an overall thing I've seen throughout being in this fandom

In the books while Wylan is a child he is also 16. People underestimate him into innocent and even younger. And while he is naive, this does not make him innocent. He has his own morals, own judgment that havent been ripped away from him yet. He is just trying to survive.

People use the "we could wake them up line" a lot snd I agree! But to also look at the full lines as well

Wylan gestured to the guards. "Is it safe to leave them, you know-"

"Alive? I'm not big on killing unconscious men."

"We could wake them up."

"Pretty ruthless, merchling. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"I'd never even seen a dead body before I came to the Barrel." Wylan admitted.

"It's not something to be embarrassed about," Jesper said, surprising himself a little. But he meant it. Wylan needed to learn to take care of himself, but it would be nice if he could do it without getting on friendly terms with death."Make sure the gags are tight."

This isnt him being ruthless. Its him being logical. He is taking what Jesper says to heart. Wake them instead of killing them unconscious. Which they do end up tying the soldiers to the pole and leaving. Him having morals shouldn't contribute to claims of him being innocent.

Wylan is worried about hurting people but will do so if nessecasry to save his friends. We can see this in the show and books. In the show he does not want to make bombs for Kaz, but does so in the end because he acknowledges he has to survive. He is worried about Alby, but goes along with the plan still.

All these are what makes Wylan, wylan. It is his fundamentals, his morals and idels. They are not however claims to see how sweet and innocent he is and how he was corrupted.

Ontop of this, while it is never y it is hevaily implied that Wylan is also autistic. (Also, correct me if im wrong please, but im pretty sure Jack did talk about this.) Autistic people get infantilizated already, and I've had my own fair share of this as well. ( I am autistic and have a learning disabilitiy, as well a speech impedament that I still struggle with.) I have to work harder to make sure people treat me as a twenty year old. Because that is my age, and there is a significant difference in attitude in how people treat me when they know im autistic, and when they don't.

And for Wylan, I feel like its the same issue. While it may not be intentional, ive been people coo over the fact Wylan has done simple tasks or teen experiences. Him having Jesper read to him, getting flustered when talking to him, Wylan not understanding social cues as well as others and taking things to face value.

You can be excited for him and think it's sweet, but to also acknowledge that there is a line between "Thats adorable" and "He's adorable." Wylan is someone who is neurodivergent. He was extrmetly sheltred as a child and was never given the proper tools to help his dyslexia, due to this he has struggles that shouldn't be overlooked or seen as "cute" when he experiences outcomes due to the situation he was in. Whenever he doesn't understand social cues, i.e., "Whos mark." People giggling and saying it's silly or cute when he doesn't understand the cues. That's infantilizating! You are viewing things he struggles with in the lens of watching a child understanding the world. Which Wylan isn't. He is a teenager, no matter the circumstances. His age should be understood.

This infantilization also effects wesper in how people view the two of them. Many people view black people as "older, the man in the relationship, rugged" while the white person is seen as the "women, younger, more innocent."

Infact, I think the show only worsned it for Wylan. As now there are faces to names.

Jack does have a youthful face, but still looks his age. I have a babyface and even now at 20 I look much older then I did at 16. The same goes for Jack. He cant control how he looks but because of his youthful features people only push for this racially hetaronormative mindset more between Wylan and Jesper (Even if its untitional).

Even Kit looks his age as well and has a baby face. He's 29 right now but was in his mid twenties during filming. Season 1 was filmed back in 2019 but due to covid post production got set back, and season 2 was filmed in the beginning of 2022. But why is it only Wylan who is infantilizated? Jesper struggles just as much with his ADHD and trauma as Wylan does.

Jack and Kit are only one year apart, the same in the books but still ive been Wylan be portrayed as the "poor innocent child who was abused." and Jesper as the "he needs to get over his addiction hes a grown man/ he's too mean to Wylan."

In society now so many black teens are seen as adults and treated as such, while white teens are seen as younger and not pushed so hard. The same can be seen for wesper.

Ive even seen people on Tiktok and other socials claim that Jesper was rude to Wylan and abusive. (WHERE???). Both Wylan and Jesper have said things that hurt the other, and they both apologized for it, and get grilled as well. In the show and books they learn and grow. The infantilization of Wylan doesnt hurt just him but plays into racial stereotypes and also microagressions. Why is it that when the white character is calling someone out its "deserved" but when the black character (who might I add had no idea) makes a side comment he is labled as cruel and abusive?

In so many shows and books the black character is usually portrayed as the joker character. Six Of Crows does this as well, which is something important to not ingore. Jesper is seen as the flirty joke character. However the only difference is soc also show more sides to his character by letting him be vulnerable. Letting Jesper show his struggles to the audience as well, how his neurodivergece effects him, letting him dress in skirts and bold colors that step away from the gender norm. So many times in media the black character is just there for shits and giggles, or is used as the villan/antagonist.

It believe its really important to understand this, and to acknowledge if your infantilizating him, or even using microagressions on Jesper unintentionally, then to learn to understand why and to grow from them.