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#Krys writes
dixons-sunshine · 14 days
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Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*
Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.
Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.
“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”
You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.
Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”
Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.
You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”
“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.
You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.
“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”
Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.
And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.
While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.
You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.
“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.
You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”
“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”
You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.
“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.
Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.
“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.
“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”
Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.
“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.
“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.
You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.
“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.
Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.
“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.
“Hm?”
“Do you wanna cuddle?”
“Mhm.”
“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”
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joelmillers-whore · 6 months
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wip wednesday
tagged by the lovely @gracieheartspedro <3
here is a small snippet from a song for fractured hearts
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*coughs in so much angst* this won't be out for some time but i couldn't help myself
np tags: @hellishjoel @thetriumphantpanda @janaispunk @jenispunk @kiwisbell
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not-krys · 7 months
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Fictober 2023: The Traveling Adventures of Mr. Fox and Miss Mouse Part 2
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Prompt #4: Do You Even Know What This Means?
Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku
Rating: Teen
Characters: Mitsuhide Akechi, 'Miss Mouse' (Fem!Reader Insert using a moniker)
Summary: Detective Mitsuhide is given the task of returning a runaway bride to her husband back East. Miss Mouse, as she's calling herself, refuses to return.
Notes: 1880s America / Historical Travel AU, Fem Reader Insert, so feminine terms will be used to refer to the reader (lady, miss, missy, girl, wife, etc), Mitsuhide also being a manipulative lil shit but what else is new?
Had brainworms for this AU back in February of this year and have now decided to expand upon it for this year's Fictober entry. For the first part of the story, check this link!
Also up on ao3!
And thanks to @bluetri4ngles and @drachonia for beta reading this for me! And I know @lorei-writes was excited about the first part, so here's a part 2, love!
WC: 2487
—------
He had only closed his eyes for a minute. Mitsuhide had sworn it had only been a minute, but it seemed a minute too long for his liking. Maybe it was the swaying of the train, maybe it was his own fatigue catching up to him–he didn't know what would have caused him to be so unaware–but in the next moment, the sun had dipped behind the flying tree line, the lands out the window seemingly flatter and grassier than when he had departed. He was still sitting in the booth he had sat at with the lady in the purple dress, the girl he was supposed to be bringing back home, but there was no sign of his companion, not even a lingering scent of the lavender she had in her hat.
Well, this wasn't good.
She did have the good grace to cover his food with a napkin (untouched), and a little note thanking him again for the help earlier and letting him know that she was retiring to her cabin for the evening. Even had the audacity to sign it as Miss Mouse with a cute doodle of a mouse in a bustle dress next to her signature. Mitsuhide sighed.
He thought of returning to his own car for the evening, following suit of the lady, but he was stopped by a passing steward who handed him a note. A telegram, rather, with a hushed message.
"201." he said simply, his face strangely stiff, even for a railroad steward.
Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow as the man walked away, pushing up his glasses, seemingly. With a defeated shrug, Mitsuhide looked over the telegram, his white brow now furrowing.
"Husband growing impatient. Bring girl home. Threats of bankruptcy and setting building on fire. Doing best to stall. Please hurry. KB."
"Kyubei," Mitsuhide crumpled the paper in his hand, looking back out at the orange and purple tinged scenery.
"Doing things thousands of miles away is easier said than done, my friend." Mitsuhide closed his eyes and stood up, going back to his cabin to think. He was in for a long ride and Miss Mouse would surely hate him when she learned of his true intentions. A sad thought, to be sure, but there was a reason mice and foxes weren't the best of friends, after all.
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Miss Mouse, rather you, had retired for the evening after leaving your savior, Mr. Fox, behind in the dining car. As much as you had enjoyed his company and that he had saved you from some rough gentlemen that seemed hell-bent on harassing you, you couldn't stay with the dashing Mr. Fox.
Or rather, Mr. Akechi, you thought with a sigh, remembering the sight of his bellflower-stitched holster.
Yes, even word of the white-haired detective had reached your noble circles. A tall man with a deep voice and a grin that was just asking for trouble. You almost couldn't believe that Mr. Akechi, the famous detective, had boarded on a train, the very same train that you were on.
Being rescued by him certainly did a number on your heart, but the reality of the situation soon sank in after you'd had a minute to think.
Mr. Akechi likely wasn't here for a leisurely train ride through the countryside. In all likelihood, he was probably paid to bring you back home, back to that disgusting pig of a man that had swindled you out of your family and their money. You felt your blood boiling at the thought of that man's hands touching yours, and your stomach churning as he smiled a lecherous grin at you.
No, it wouldn't do you any good to waste another thought on the man. You needed to think of a plan, to find some way to escape a detective like Mr. Akechi. It was your only hope if you wanted to keep your freedom.
You sat in the comfy chair in your room, contemplating what to do next. A planned stop was coming within a day or so, you thought. You could slip into the crowd and sneak aboard another train. Although the possibility of getting caught made your heart stutter and cower out in the end.
You could also sneak into the crowd and wait for the train to leave, then just explain to the staff that you had simply missed your train and would wait for the next one. A simple enough excuse and a believable one. You could get lost in the town nearby, say you lost track of the time, and just wait in town for the next available train to take you to California. Mr. Oda would understand, wouldn't he? People get lost traveling by trains all the time, surely?
Although, it would look suspicious if you took your trunk with you into the rail station as if you meant to stay longer and not get back on the train. Would you be willing to risk leaving your belongings to elude the detective? You had heard stories of people losing their way with no belongings and dying out in the great unknown.
Maybe, you thought, perhaps you could buy more supplies in the rail town without it looking suspicious and just leave your original belongings on purpose? People lost luggage all the time anyways, right?
You sighed. Who knew starting your new life in the West was going to require this much of a daring escapade to elude both your suitor and a suave detective?
No, he wasn't that suave. He was here (possibly) to whisk you back home! That took down his handsomeness some. No amount of charm he could exude would persuade you into going back. Not ever.
You looked over at your hat, little lavender springs already starting to wilt. You frowned and stood up, taking the hat into your hands and pulled the sprigs out, setting them aside to press later.
You sat the hat back onto the table and prepared for bed, stripping the purple overdress and petticoats from your body, breathing in deeply.
Rocked by the swaying of the train, you laid in the provided bed, pulling the feathered blanket over your head, hoping to come up with a more solid plan in the morning, and a stronger hope of not seeing a certain white-haired Mr. Fox in the dining car again. Your rescuer could easily transform into your kidnapper and you sincerely hoped that wouldn't be the case. His kindness and wit had warmed you, but warmth had a habit of dissipating if there was a stiff breeze present.
You closed your eyes, hoping against hope that Mr. Fox was just here for a leisurely train ride and nothing more.
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The early morning sun and rumbling stomachs roused the passengers of the westward bound train. Mitsuhide brushed his hair back as he replaced his hat, noting the lessened dark circles around his eyes. Who knew that following a girl across the country would do wonders for his sleep habits?
With a yawn while buttoning up his waistcoat, he headed back to the dining car with a flourish of his jacket, finding you once again, enjoying a light breakfast and, thankfully, no unscrupulous gentlemen around to ruin your meal time.
Well, save for one unscrupulous gentleman, he thought sadly.
You jumped a little as your sudden guest seated himself, golden eyes training on you like a fox that had trapped a little mouse under his paw.
"Good morning, Miss Mouse." Mitsuhide said as he sat across from you, his dangerous grin lighting his face.
"G-good morning, Mr. Fox." you returned, cutting up your eggs with a frown, "I see you are in better spirits than yesterday. Did you have a good sleep?"
"I did, thank you for asking." he said a touch thinly, remembering the state she had left him in yesterday. "I'm heartbroken, however."
"Heartbroken?"
"You left your dear husband to fend for himself in the cold dining car all night. And after such a gallant rescue yesterday, too."
You froze.
"I never said you were my husband. That was you fibbing to make those other gentlem-"
"Yet rumors are already spreading that we are arguing and you sent me here in your anger."
"…Beg your pardon?"
"You left me in the dining car when you were angry with me. The staff and a few married couples looked on in pity. It was quite embarrassing."
"Wait, you really did sleep here all night?" You asked, worriedly.
"Feel my hands, dear, and see how cold they are."
You stared at him, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. You then looked down at his hands, frowning.
"You're wearing gloves."
"Yes, I am. So are you. Quite a mind for detail, Miss."
"Your hands wouldn't be cold if you were wearing gloves." You said, "plus, the passenger cars are all heated through steam. You wouldn't be cold at all."
Mitsuhide smirked.
"Then, perhaps, you could rub my back? The chairs here are quite comfortable for sitting in, but sleeping in them certainly isn't the best idea."
You frowned deeper.
"Teasing, Mouse." he said, "I was only teasing you. I went back to my cabin and slept quite deeply."
You returned to your eggs with a pout.
"Well, Mr. Fox, some of us don't need or appreciate being riled up like that first thing in the morning."
"I was being serious about the rumors, however."
"You and I are not married."
"No, but I did put on such a spectacular show yesterday, so much so that seeing us apart has made others curious."
"Then quell those rumors." You said firmly.
His sly smile made you pause.
"I'm afraid It would be in your best interest if I didn't."
"And why, pray tell, is that?"
"A young, unmarried woman traveling alone is just asking for trouble," Mitsuhide explained. "A married woman traveling with her husband at least has him around to protect her."
"And you're offering to be my husband for my protection?" 
"Precisely."
"Why? Why do you want to protect me so badly?"
Mitsuhide paused, seeming caught for a brief moment. His placid look soon returned, however.
"It's in my nature to protect young ladies in distress such as yourself."
You huffed. So, this was how it was going to be?
"I was doing fine."
"Yesterday proved otherwise."
"I was going to ask for help from the steward and have them confined until we get to the next stop. That is, until you intervened."
"And if they escape their confinement after the train reaches the next stop, what then? They could kidnap and have their way with you, whatever their perverted minds were thinking of doing to you once you were alone."
"I-"
You paused, now the one trapped in the logic trap. You had only wanted to escape that horrible match and now… You were alone against a fox dead set on trapping you, the fox not even being the worst of the dangers in front of you, you were beginning to realize.
"Though your bravery in striking out on your own was admirable, you must also understand the world we're in, Miss Mouse." Mitsuhide said. "A woman without a man to support her won't last very long, especially out here in the unknown."
He rested his chin in his palm.
"What I'm offering is protection, so that what happened yesterday won't happen again. Better yet, a worse outcome won't come to pass so long as I'm here."
You looked at him, studying him.
"And if I refuse your protection? If I escape at the next station and flee without you by carriage? By stagecoach? Even by a horse?"
"Trouble much worse than yesterday will find you." Mitsuhide frowned, not the least bit thrilled at the idea of physically chasing you across the vast countryside aside from the comfort of the train. "Even fleeing by your own two legs would leave you at the mercy of the elements along with the evil men trying to catch your tail."
You looked away, not hungry anymore.
"Do you know what all this means, Mouse?"
"I know what it means." You bit back. "And I hate that you're right."
"Hate it and me as much as you want, Miss Mouse. So long as you agree to lie about us being married. It's for your protection, after all."
You sighed in defeat.
"I have half a mind to make you sleep in the dining car again, Mr. Fox."
Mitsuhide chuckled, pushing your plate back towards you.
"So long as you keep being my wife, Miss Mouse. I'll even sleep on the roof if you tell me to."
Much as you didn’t like him in this moment, you still had your standards.
"No, don't sleep on the roof, please. However, as your wife," you shoved the plate towards him this time, "I want you to eat."
Mitsuhide blinked in surprise.
"You didn't finish your dinner yesterday because you were helping me. The steward told me when I arrived here this morning."
"And I remember telling you I lost my sense of taste ages ago."
"Your belly doesn't care about your lack of taste." You pointed your fork at him. "Besides, I can't have my ‘husband’ collapsing from hunger if he's supposed to be protecting me from all the nasty villains that are coming after me. It's the least I can do as your ‘wife’. That’s what you wanted, correct?"
Mitsuhide chuckled after a moment.
"You're kinder than I deserve, little wife."
"I'm not your wife.” you repeated. “I pity the poor waif that takes your hand someday."
"You and me both." He never pictured himself getting married, however nice a thought it was. He couldn't put someone through his life guilt-free, wouldn’t dream of putting someone through his life, not even his worst of enemies.
Instead, he took his pleasure in eating off your plate, ignoring your pointed scowl as he snatched your fork when your back was turned to order more food. The small domestic atmosphere, though with many more strings running underneath it like the tracks beneath them, it made him smile genuinely inwardly, having the taste of a humble life he would never know otherwise, he felt. 
He had been surprised that you remembered him not eating the previous evening and had thought to remedy that, despite knowing who he was, evidently, based on the change in demeanor this morning. You truly were too kind to him, at least suspecting his true intentions and yet still thinking after him enough to remind him to eat.
His true heartbreak would come when he had to take her back home, he thought with a sigh, forced to feed this kind little mouse to a much more despicable creature than him, the thought causing more displeasure and annoyance than it should have. 
What was this little mouse doing to him, causing such troublesome thoughts in him?
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krynutsreal · 1 year
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kiyotaka ai bot moment
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me when I'm ill
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krys-loves-otome · 2 years
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Ikevamp Suitors Help You Get Dressed
So! A while ago, I reblogged this gif set from a Russian TV mini series about Anna Karenina, depicting I'm assuming the leading lady and (likely, I don't know the exact details) her lover, Alexei Vronsky, helping her to get dressed. It's a detail not often depicted in media, a husband or lover helping their loved one get dressed, and that gif set, even though I know nothing about the show or about Anna Karenina, just thought it was incredibly sexy of seeing this kind of intimacy shown. It stuck in my head for a bit until I finally decided to apply the idea to the suitors. 
And I did try to stay in the realm of a gender-neutral reader (as clothing does not have a gender, masculine-leaning or non-binary friends can wear corsets and skirts too if they want), but there are likely things that slip past my radar and I'm sorry if I didn't catch them before posting.
Also, a mention of a minor spoiler for Sebastian's entry where I mention he has a sister. She's mentioned in his bday stories, but not in a great amount of detail (as of yet, according to spoilers I've seen. She'll be mentioned more when his route comes out) so there's that.
And many thanks to @scummy-writes, @tsundere-mitsuhide, @art-of-love-and-war, and @/rotted_gourd on twitter for beta-ing for me, esp with such short notice. And I know that @lorei-writes wanted to be notified when this went live, so, here ya go!
My Fanfic Masterlist!
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Napoleon
If you manage to wake him at a decent time (preferably before noon), Napoleon will gladly help you lace into your corset, for a small fee of a good morning kiss. It doesn't take him long to pull on your strings and he can get them sitting right in minutes. He finishes off the tying with a little bow and a second morning kiss because he thinks you look cuter that way, especially the freshly kissed part.
Mozart
Mozart prefers to be quick and efficient most days, so when he helps you dress, he's likely the fastest of the suitors. Though there are times he pulls you a little tighter than he usually does, you're sure to hear your little gasp as the garment is pulled taut. He will loosen it and apologize with a small kiss if you complain though. When he ties you off, he prefers the knot (multiple ones at that) not only for their swift nature, but it's also harder to undo, so some hooligan pulling on your skirts will have a harder time undressing you and sabotaging your dignity.
Leonardo
As many an event can attest, Leonardo prefers to help you 'out' of the corset rather than into it, but he takes pleasure in lacing his cara up most mornings. With a cigarillo between his lips, he goes down your back pulling and settling the laces so they lay flat, giving you the most beautiful figure in the process, you'd think you had stepped out of a painting. He ties you off with a little bow.
Arthur
Another that muchly prefers helping you out of your corset rather than into it, Arthur still finds his pleasures with helping you lace up in the morning. He can never resist running his hands down your sides, the silk gliding across his fingers, a kiss and a whispered tease into your shoulder, maybe an ear nibble if he's feeling especially frisky. He ties you a loose bow, a promise for the two of you later on in the day to continue what that whispered tease suggested.
Vincent
Vincent is excited when you asked him for help lacing up your corset. He sits on his stool partially dressed in only his brown slacks, more eager to help you dress than to fully dress himself. He pulls on the laces gently but firmly, making sure every line of ribbon was resting comfortably on you. He finishes you off with a simple knot, tucking the extra ribbon length in the gap next to your hip, giving your shoulder a light peck and a small compliment about how beautiful you look.
Theo
Another that prefers efficiency in the morning because Mr. Art Dealer Extraordinaire has things to do in the morning, wake up, Hondje! He's likely up before you, pulling your sleepy self out of bed. Before he fully dresses himself, he's pulling up your stockings, slipping your feet into shoes, and wrapping a silky corset around your middle. He'll chuckle quietly and poke your side if you dare to yawn as he's pulling, messing up his rhythm. All in good fun though as he thinks your sleepy face is adorable, especially after he kisses your pout away.
Isaac
Usually one that's good with his hands, you would think that Isaac would be a pro at lacing your ribbons down your back. But, dear reader, let's also not forget how easily flustered he can get, the pink on his cheeks as vibrant as his hair as he stares at your various curves and grooves, or when he feels the warmth of your skin beneath the silky layers. Still, he tries his best to hold everything together, taking his time to make sure the laces lay flat and even, tying you off with a knot. Nice bows are a little complex for him at present, but he'll keep trying until you can get the best bow you deserve.
Jean
Jean is honored when you asked for help lacing up your corset, thinking it something akin to a squire putting armor on their knight. Though he is a little concerned his love has to go out in armor and wasn't taking a weapon with them (sword might be too heavy, perhaps a good sized dagger could fit under their skirts? A weighted baton, perhaps? He could show them some self-defense tactics at the very least) he still tries his best to be your best squire, lacing up as best he can, tying you off with a knot (or multiple ones for the same reason as Mozart, for your protection.)
Dazai
"Oh, Toshiko-san? Do you need some help?" Dazai sees your trouble one morning, laces uneven and you can't reach to tighten them better. Well, he couldn't leave you alone in such a state, certainly not, so he offers his services with your corset. You thank him and the two of you make light conversation, like where you were going so dressed up, what your plans were for the day. It was a far more pleasant start to the day rather than being tangled in seemingly endless ribbons. The only downside was your mini heart-attack when he sat on your window sill when he left, falling backwards and gracefully grabbing and climbing to his next destination.
Shakespeare
He's had his fair share of helping others change clothes, so his experience in theatre is vital in helping his love dress in the morning. His hair loosely tied up, he helps pull up your socks and slip on your shoes in quick time. With your corset, he manages just as easily as his costumed actors, though with slight more difficulty as there are more layers and different materials to contend with here. At least at home, he can take his time lacing up his favorite star performer rather than dealing with a rushed presentation and abject misery of time robbed to satisfy an imaginary standard neither of you wanted to abide by. For his own ease, however, he ties the corset lace off with a bow, so later on his time would be better spent with you quickly being able to undress rather than fussing with being perfect for others. 
Comte
Given his penchant to buy you entire wardrobes full of the clothes, it's not really surprising he would sneak in some back-lacing corsets, because his chérie deserves the full turn of the century dressing experience, if they so desire to, of course. When you ask him to help you put one on, he's delighted, hoping you would ask him at some point. He takes his time, making sure the laces were nice and even, tying you off in a simple knot and giving a neck kiss for good luck.
Sebastian
Growing up with a sister, he's had his fair share of helping them get dressed up if there was a fancy party going on. So, it was no surprise at how quick and efficient  he is with helping you dress, as he is with all matters concerning the vampire household. He makes light conversation, telling you what he knew of the history of corsetry, and that he had some strong words for the perpetrators of extreme tight-lacing rumors and the horrible after-effects it's had on the garment's reputation in the later centuries. When he finishes lacing you up, you'll have the most stunning figure and be the most comfortable you've felt wearing fancy clothes. Sebas would be proud, bowing to show his thanks for your compliments.
Vlad
One that isn't that great at getting up in the morning, Vlad's more likely to send you to Charles to help you dress, but today his floricică was insistent. With a yawn, he sat up in bed, his deep red eyes still full of sleep. He moves to the edge, having you stand between his legs as he methodically moves down your back, straightening and pulling where needed. When he ties you off, he pulls you close and falls back onto the bed, refusing to release you despite the squirming. It was your punishment for waking him so early.
Faust
The other one that would sooner send you to Charles to help you dress, he fairs better than Vlad, standing up while putting on his glasses. He makes minor complaints about beauty standards being inherently foolish, especially when it makes dressing one's self overly complicated. Your bone structure and muscle to fat ratios were fine in his eyes, so he really saw no need for the corset and petticoats. He even briefly considered offering to use his scalpel on you, but humans don't heal as quickly for his liking as vampires do, if they did recover at all, and like he said, he likes your proportions where they were. The matter was left alone with a kiss and a promise of strong coffee.
Charles
The usual early riser that helps the other residents wake up, Charles is ecstatic with the idea of helping you get dressed in the morning. Sometimes a little too eager with the first few times tying you just a tad too tight. He'll immediately apologize and loosen the laces, giving your neck a little kiss to show he's sorry. He ties you off with a bow because he likes you to look cute.
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kryinthenight · 26 days
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Sin of Gluttony
Do you ever get a gnawing feeling that nothing will ever be enough? That you are so innately broken that you will constantly be left to the brink of dissatisfaction? Until the day you die. That no matter how much you scream no one will ever hear you? The point of unfulfillment will be so great that even the cells of your skin cry out in desperation. 
Will nothing make them stop?
Is it greed? 
Is it envy?
Is it misery?
Or is it love?
Or maybe even a lack of love within yourself? 
This craving only brings misery and the feelings as if I will never have what I'm so desperately seeking. This desperation is only masked by the uncertainty of what is missing within me. 
I am just a glutton who was lacking a reason. A pathetic street stray trying to mask the starvation I'm feeling. Trying to fill what no one could. 
so
why were you enough for me?
Maybe I should scare her a little... For not telling me about what Shes been up to...
I begin to lean off the edge of the ledge and feel myself drift off the concrete behind me. Before my head left her lap, I felt an orchestra of strings pulling my body closer to her. Unwilling to let me fall. 
"See?" 
“You literally couldn't have known that. What if I didn't and you actually fell??”
"Then you would be doing a really bad job at saving me." 
She punches my arm as I laugh. I've missed this. I've missed… 
Shes still worried about me. Good I guess that's a good sign. She will be back home soon anyways. Then we will be back to normal...right?
"How did you know i was going to save you though?"
"I just trust you."
Why couldn't you be enough?
She's hanging out with him again. my replacement. She doesn't think he's better too, right?
They walk together everywhere. He follows her around everywhere. Like a pathetic little dog. 
I stared at her from the building we usually meet at. She didn't come today. And I'm staring at reason number one. 
It's just an act. So why is she smiling this much???? Did she ever laugh like that before? Why is she getting so close to him? Was she ever that happy? Was she ever that happy with me?
This whole situation is making me so-
Why weren't you enough?
The scene was slowly blurring in front of me. And I couldn't make out what was happening anymore. All I could hear in the daze was her footsteps trailing away as I felt the dizziness of the world around me. 
When I awoke again. It was too late. The last scene played out as I begged for more. 
All I could feel was the life draining from me. Someone had hurt me. I could feel the pain brefitly. But all I could stare at was the look on your face. That's how I knew what had happened. I'm still using you as my guide and to my surprise you showed me something real. 
I could finally see you.
So tell me. Why can I see your face now…? Why only now can I see how you feel? 
As I slipped I could feel the weight of my body cave in on myself. I was… falling. And without your strings to catch me. Was this my end?
I was left unsatisfied again
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hearteyesforjoel · 7 months
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IZZY!!! for the fic writing ask question thingy (I'm so good with words, ik) number two pls! 🫶
kryyyy, lovely!<3
2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?:
i DEFINITELY write as i go lol. anytime i think of a good plot, i just scribble down the gist of it. from that point, i feel like it’s easier for me to section off certain areas of my fic to focus on, that way it’s easier to write and put together! :)
this makes so much sense, yet no sense at all lol
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(from @flowerprose)
💬💬💬💖
He smiled at them in reassurance and then they left, leaving him alone. A long sigh escaped his lips at his eyes fell onto the sunset. He was alone. But it was okay. He had asked them to go, had not wanted to join them and yet they deserved fun as they were only shortly on earth before departing again. Something wet ran over his cheek. Confused, he lifted a hand to his face and gently wiped away the lone tear. Blush pink light of the sun reflected into it. It was such a beautiful thing and yet so delicate. Then more tears started to drop and silent sobs wrecked his body as he stared out of the window. He did not hear the door opening, did not hear the "I'll be gone in a minute again I just forgot my com". He only felt arms encircling him and the familiar smell of his brother Hayden.
excerpt from Where Stars are buried
(asked by @flowerprose)
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traitorsinsalem · 2 years
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she dealt with asian family drama like no one else did and all the fanbase did was hate her
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bebewrites · 2 years
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get to know me game
thanks to the loveliest @flowerprose for the tag! 🌸
Favorite Color: pink, olive green, neutrals
Currently Reading: beta reading enchanted at eventide for @sentfromwolves! and was a couple of chapters into the invisible life of addie larue before that
Last Song: about damn time - lizzo
Last Series: only murders in the building (this show is so weirdly funny and i love it)
Last Movie: thor: love & thunder 
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: sweet! 🍰
Currently Working On: the night veil! specifically trying to sort out what happens in the middle 🙃
tagging some people i’d like to get to know better! (pls feel free to ignore!) @writingbyricochet @achilleid @houndmouthed @ofwordsandfeathers @laufire-writes 
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gordopickett · 13 days
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And If It’s Not Okay... (For All Mankind post-s2 fix-it fic)
*** Chapter 25 is up! ***
Chapter Summary: Ed and Dani meet up for a drink at the Shamrock, and he fills her in on what's going on in his life regarding Karen and Gordo.
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Chapters: 25/? Fandom: For All Mankind (TV 2019) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gordo Stevens/Tracy Stevens, Ed Baldwin/Karen Baldwin Characters: Gordo Stevens, Tracy Stevens, Ed Baldwin, Danielle Poole, Danny Stevens, Jimmy Stevens, Karen Baldwin, Kelly Baldwin, Margo Madison, Molly Cobb, Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong, Sam Cleveland, Larry Wilson (mentioned), Wayne Cobb (mentioned), Ellen Wilson Additional Tags: Episode: s02e10 The Grey (For All Mankind), canon until it's not, Fix-It, fam - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Timeline, Jamestown - Freeform, El Gordo, Welcome Home Party, Gordo's weight loss, Injury Recovery, Fix It Fic, For All Mankind fix it fic, For All Mankind fix it, Michael Dorman, post season 2 fix it fic, Friendship, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Female Friendship, Established Relationship, weight loss, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Joel Kinnaman - Freeform, Marriage, Divorce, Therapy, Naval Academy, NASA, Ellington Air Force Base, Shamrock Hotel Series: Part 1 of For All Mankind Summary:
***FOR ALL MANKIND S1 & S2 SPOILERS AHEAD***
I just finished watching season 2 of For All Mankind for the first time, and I am in much need of a fix-it fic, so here it is.
Gordo & Tracy fix the nuclear reactor's coolant system and return to the Jamestown airlock. Everything after this is my alternate universe/timeline wherein they both survive and have a chance to face the world (& beyond) together again.
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dixons-sunshine · 20 days
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Holding On To You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Despite not being too keen on PDA, Daryl craved comfort too. He got that comfort by holding your hand in his. It wasn't always that simple, though. He had to work his way up to being comfortable with that. Luckily, you were a patient person.
Or, three different scenarios in where the archer shows progress in his comfort with you.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre-prison (on the road); pre-Alexandria; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, migraines, mentions of injuries.
Word count: 2.1k
A/n: @louifaith, the muse you are, feeding our Daryl obsessed minds with your beautifully crafted scenarios. I wasn't feeling well today (a migraine and I was pretty dizzy) and didn't get much writing done, but this idea deserved to be written. There's a bit of Eugene slander in this but it's because I don't really like S5 Eugene. He's way better in the other seasons imo. Anyways, I hope you like this!
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The cruelty of life seemed endless. With the stability and safety of the farm being something of the past, having to scavenge for scraps and having to move from house to house every few days, and with the impending arrival of Lori's little baby, everyone's spirits were diminished. Everyone longed for the comfort the farm brought for those few weeks you had all been looking for Sophia, everyone wanted a decent meal to satiate their hunger and although Lori's unborn baby was a reminder that innocence still existed, it was also a cruel reminder that you all needed to find someplace to plant some roots, and fast—especially if you didn't want to attract the dead with the baby's loud crying.
You sighed softly as you quietly followed behind Daryl, yours and his boots making clear tracks in the deep snow. The archer, as observant as ever, noticed your shift in mood and turned his head, eyeing you carefully.
“Ya alrigh'?” he questioned, turning his attention back to the tracks in front of him. Your relationship was pretty new, only having been "officially" together since the two of you had shared a kiss back after the fall of the farm.
You nodded, although he couldn't see you. “I'm fine.”
Daryl hummed, unconvinced. “Yer not fine. I know ya better than tha'.”
Your lips twitched up into a smile, walking a little faster to walk next to him. Daryl slowed his pace slightly to allow you to walk next to him at a steady pace, eyeing you as you adjusted your compound bow over your shoulder—a gift he had gotten you when you had mentioned wanting to learn how to hunt.
“I'm fine, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all,” you replied reassuringly, walking almost shoulder to shoulder with your partner.
Daryl shot you a worried look, fully prepared to head back. “If yer tired, we can go back. This trail ain't leadin' us anywhere, anyway.”
“I don't mean tired in the literal sense,” you corrected. “I'm just tired of all this moving around. Not knowing what our next meals going to be, if we even eat at all, not knowing when our current camp's going to be overrun with walkers, not knowing when Lori's baby's going to be here... It's mentally exhausting. We all need a break.”
Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We could do with a couple' of days where we ain't gotta worry.”
Before you could respond, there was a snap of a twig ahead of the two of you. Instinctively, you and Daryl raised your respective weapons in the direction of the noise, expecting to find a walker staggering towards you. However, instead of coming face to face with danger, you saw a small deer walking over to something in the distance.
Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming to take the shot. However, your hand on his arm halted his intentions. He shot you a questioning look, but you only hushed him and beckoned for him to follow you. The two of you slowly crept closer, the scene before you becoming clearer. The small deer made its way to what was presumably its mother, nuzzling against her legs.
You smiled softly at the sight. Despite the fall of the world, beauty still remained. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was thinking the exact same thing at that moment, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was gazing at you, taking in your radiant smile, the sparkle in your eyes, just everything about you. You truly were beautiful to the archer.
Hesitantly, Daryl brushed his hand against yours. Your smile widened but you made no move to grab his hand, not wanting to scare him off. You moved at his pace, and whether he held your hand at that moment was his decision.
In the end, the only thing he did was link his pinky with yours, and it was a perfect moment for you. In your mind, that was really good progress for a man who wasn't familiar with giving or receiving comfort. You'd wait as long as you needed to for Daryl to be comfortable around you. You'd never push him, never.
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The road seemed endless. You listened to the incessant yapping from one of your newest companions in your group of ragtag survivors, Eugene Porter, and had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Despite the euphoria and relief that came with reuniting with your group and having new members that could help you all, you were tired. Not just physically, but mentally, too. It was so much worse this time around than when you were initially on the road two years back. You were sporting a bruised cheek with deep cuts and scrapes littering the rest of your body, and you had a raging migraine.
And Eugene's droning wasn't helping matters at all.
As if sensing your deteriorating resolve at not biting the poor man's head of, Rick finally called for a break. “We rest here for now. We'll get moving again in an hour. Everything you want to do, do it now. Once we move again, we're not stopping until nightfall.”
Everyone soon dispersed, some heading to a nearby creek to refill the water supply, some starting a small fire to heat up some food and some even laying down on the hard ground to get some much needed sleep. You walked over to a tree and slid down against it, resting your head on your knees, willing the migraine away.
You soon heard a rustling next to you, before feeling a body sitting down next to you. You didn't even have to look up to know it was Daryl—the archer's presence was something you had grown used to and you could identify him anywhere.
“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, loosely hugging his knees. “Ya alrigh'?”
You hummed, lifting your head to look at him. “I'm fine,” you replied. “I just have a migraine.”
Daryl nodded, his face showing sympathy for you. “M'sorry we dun' have anythin' fer yer migraine. I know how bad they can get.”
You smiled and shook your head, placing your hand on the ground beside you, right between you and Daryl. “It's okay. It'll go away eventually. It's not that bad, as long as Eugene's quiet.”
Daryl chuckled, eyeing the aforementioned man who was sitting near the campfire. “Yeah, he's quite annoying, ain't he?”
“No, he's alright. He just needs to learn to be quiet from time to time.”
Daryl hummed and quieted down, simply basking in the early afternoon heat under the shade of the tree while the two of you observed the survivors going about their chores. However, Rick soon called for everyone to regroup, and you and Daryl got up to follow behind him.
You and Daryl walked at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy, and some semblance of relief from Eugene's rambling as he was at the front with Abraham and Rosita. Slowly and hesitantly, Daryl moved closer to you and brushed his hand against yours, before slowly interlacing his fingers through yours.
You smiled up at him, and he returned the smile with a small one of his own. It may not have been the first time that you've held hands with the archer, but it was the first time that you've done so with people around. Although Daryl slightly manoeuvred the two of you in a way that your locked hands wouldn't draw attention if people weren't directly looking at you, it was still a big deal for you. He was starting to show you off publicly. Although people back at the prison knew you as "the hunter's girl" because of an incident where a guy flirted with you and Daryl put him in his place, PDA wasn't something they ever saw from the man. He preferred to keep that part of your lives private—so this simple gesture was a big deal.
You squeezed his hand, a gesture you and Daryl had come up with to quietly tell the other "I love you". Daryl smiled softly and squeezed your hand back.
You truly loved this man, and he had shown countless times that he loved you, too.
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“You guys should come over again. This was nice,” Eric told you with a smile, him and Aaron walking out onto the porch with you and Daryl.
You smiled at him and nodded. “We will, especially if you're going to be serving that spaghetti you made again. It was delicious. Seriously, thank you. It's the best meal we've had in a while.”
“No thanks necessary,” Aaron replied, waving you off. “It was our pleasure.”
Daryl nodded, moving to shake Aaron's extended hand. “Thanks. This was a hell of a lot better than tha' party at Deanna's woulda been.”
Aaron nodded and withdrew his hand again, allowing Eric to take his place before moving over to give you a hug. You returned it before giving Eric a hug too, and then pulled back.
“We should get going. Once again, thanks for tonight.”
“Once again, it's our pleasure,” Eric laughed. “Goodnight, guys. We'll see you around.”
“Goodnight,” you greeted them.
“Nigh',” Daryl responded, turning to you and subconsciously extending his hand to you.
You smiled at him but didn't say anything, not wanting him to change his mind about it. You slipped your hand into his and walked with him down the porch steps and into the relatively quiet streets of Alexandria, music from Deanna's party playing very faintly in the background.
You and Daryl didn't instantly go home. You simply walked through the streets, familiarising yourselves with the community. Daryl never let go of your hand; he had even brought your hand up to his lips once to kiss your knuckles, and your heart swelled with love for the man.
The two of you had run into a couple of the people in the community who were returning to their homes after the party, and you had suspected that Daryl would pull his hand from yours, but he never did. His grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly during your interactions with those people, seeking your comfort around people he didn't know. It made you feel special, important. It made you happy to know that the man you met back at the quarry trusted you enough to bring him comfort.
Later that night, when the two of you returned to the empty house and retreated into the sanctuary of your shared basement, snuggled up together under the covers was when you finally addressed what he had done. Daryl was laying with his head on your chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes and figures onto your hand.
“You held my hand today,” you told him, softly threading your fingers through his freshly washed, brown locks, the shower having been courtesy of your skillful convincing.
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed absentmindedly, nuzzling his face deeper into your chest.
“In front of people,” you said, eyeing his reaction carefully.
Daryl simply glanced up at you, his face not revealing anything. “Ya want me to stop doin' tha'?”
You shook your head. “No, I like it. It's just a little out of the ordinary for you, and it took me by surprise.”
Daryl was quiet for a few moments. “I always wanna hold yer hand when we're walkin' together. I jus' never had the courage to. Dun' want people to overreact when they see it. But, I dunno... I love ya and I'll be damned if I dun' hold my girl's hand 'cause of wha' people think.”
You giggled and kissed the top of Daryl's head. “So I can expect an increase in handholding?”
Daryl nodded. “Yeah.”
You smiled at him. “Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I love you, Dar.”
Daryl placed a kiss to your chest, before laying his head back down. “Love ya more, sunshine.”
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joelmillers-whore · 7 months
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hii <3 can we get a little something for F*ck Me Like You Mean It? 🫢💜
but of course, love.
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not-krys · 13 days
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I remember your details for things I've never considered, in your fanfics! Oddly its mostly the pregnancy fanfics that stick out to me the most, how Arthur warms up the stethoscope before using it on her, or the one about Abby waiting for vincent to come home. They've always stuck in my mind due to some of the details and how easy it was to visualize them super well, so thats what I remember the most! Good details and great at putting together scenes.
I also remember the zoned out mitsunari fanfic hehehe
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Anon or not, tell me what passage, fic, line of narration, or anything you remember about me as a writer (ask was sent to the wrong blog, but I'll answer it here anyway since it is a writing related question!)
About details! I usually try to keep two main things in mind when I come up with them. First one is to keep who I'm describing in mind. With the Arthur x Reader pregnancy fic in particular, I remembered that he was a former doctor and that he has an knack for noticing and remembering small details. In the fic, he says that his partner complained last time he had checked in that the bell was cold, so for this checkup, he warmed it for his partner's sake.
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Funnily enough, the stethoscope moment almost didn't happen as when I looking through my original notes, it was up for debate. Screenie below to show how the thought process sort of went (and with the timestamp pictured because I wasn't kidding when I said this fic came to me in the middle of the night, not even fully convinced I was gonna participate in Arthur Week then)
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Same can be shown with the Abby waiting for Vincent fic. I'm assuming you're talking about the 'First Kicks' fic where Abby is waiting for Vincent as a storm brews outside as I also a WIP Wednesday where Vincent comes home to find her sleeping, but I'll go with First Kicks for example's sake.
Abby's a nervous person, especially worried when Vincent was caught in the storm. She calms herself when she looks at her reflection and sees her anxious self, realizing that's she's making a mountain out of a mole hill, and talks to her son to settle her nerves.
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The other thing I keep in mind is an offshoot of 'show don't tell' in that, to help enrich a scene, evoke the five major senses (sight, sound, touch, smell, taste).  The quiet of the room while Arthur's listens to the baby's heartbeat (so quiet, a pin dropping would sound like a gun going off), the blue satin ribbons on the reader's clothes, how the stethoscope tickles when it makes contact, etc.
Same thing with Abby's story: Abby looks at herself in the window with the rain pouring down, which breaks up her reflection as rain does on windows; hearing the door open and some muttered Dutch lets Abby know that Vincent's back; smelling the rain on him because he was just outside and got soaked in it; feeling those cold hands on her belly and her jumping back because cold (previously wet) hands touching your belly? It'd be a surprise at the very least!
And because I'm feeling cheeky, all the things can also be applied to the zoned-out Mitsunari fic (mind the summary and the tags, this is a smoot fic). Keeping both characters in mind (Houki is a proper lady that wants to try something but is a little embarrassed about it so she sneaks around to get what she wants, while Mitsunari is also a curious critter and wanted to see what Houki was trying to do and isn't judging her for tricking him) and scene-chewing in describing things with the five major senses (salty taste of Mitsunari's finger, feeling the cool air on her [redacted], hearing his whispers against her ear, seeing that Mitsun has two hands (two hands!) and where they decide to travel), things like that.
(No, I'm not screenshotting an example from that fic for propriety's sake, ya filthy animals.)
So, yeah, that's a little bit about me explaining how I do some details and how it all can come together to make a scene in a story. Kinda sorry for the rambling if this was something you knew about already, but I had fun discussing details either way.
Thanks for the ask, Scummy!
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krynutsreal · 1 year
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MORE.INSTA REQUESTS THAT I FINALLY FINISHED [walks out with blood on my hands]
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and these
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girls.....girlisms....
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krys-loves-otome · 11 months
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Sorry not sorry about the father's day spam, but there is a tag for blocking purposes or if you wanna wade through the spam (either to reread old favs or to find stuff unread)
It's Happy Father's Day spam
Have a happy father's day or a good day if you're in a place that doesn't celebrate it today.
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