#( and still manage to find some level of comfort in one another's presences.. even if one is currently a giant ass alien gorilla ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

darlin’ i’d wait for you

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: Inspired by my real life love for my godchildren. Mis almas, no hay nadie que ame más que tú. Gracias por elegirme.

Summary: “Ten fingers. Ten toes. And even if you had none of them, you’d still be the grandest thing I’ve ever seen.” - Emily Henry, Beach Read aka you and Joel have a baby [3.0k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of labor and delivery (nothing graphic), swearing, lots of emotions, fluff

"You need to be resting!" Maria says as you pace the living room with your hands on your hips. Ellie is watching you move from her space in the kitchen, her knee bouncing with anxiety as she sits there.

"You need to find Joel!"

"Tommy's getting him right now. Please, just lay down."

"I'm fine," another contraction ripples through your body, and you grip the back of the couch. "Fuck! I can't believe Joel convinced me to do this again!" You yell. The pain tightens in your lower abdomen, and you drop your head to the cushions, unable to focus on anything else. Strong hands press against the small of your back, applying the perfect counter pressure to your contraction. The tension releases just enough for you to pick your head up and find Maria standing over your shoulder, a knowing look in her eyes. No words need to be exchanged for her to know how grateful you are for her presence.

The contractions have been coming and going since late last night, but you didn't think much of it. They were sporadic and not painful enough to make you think you were in labor. You had false contractions with Jane and expected the same thing with this one, except that these contractions became very real very fast. Joel was already out on patrol when you had Ellie run to Tommy and Maria's for additional help because they were getting so bad. This baby is coming soon.

"Do you have a bag ready to go?" Maria asks as the contraction ends, and you nod, pushing yourself up.

"In our bedroom closet, but it's missing some stuff."

"Okay, tell me what you need, and I'll pack it."

"I can do it."

"Honey, if you walk up those stairs, there's no way you'll make it back down." She says, and you sigh. Reluctantly, you list some last-minute things that need to get thrown in the bag and where they'll be. Maria turns on her heels and sprints up the stairs, ever a woman on a mission. Ellie walks over to you as Maria's figure disappears, standing awkwardly near you as you hold your belly.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to scare you." You say, wrapping her in a hug or as much of a hug as you can manage with the baby in between you. She relaxes and lets out a big breath as you rub her back.

"I feel like I should be the one comforting you."

"I've done this before. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, but that was before," the fear in her voice rattles you to your core, and you pull away to look at her. Her bottom lip is cracked and bleeding from her teeth worrying at it all morning, and she looks like the scared kid you met in Boston. "You really should be on the way to the hospital."

"As soon as Joel gets here, I'll go, okay?" You say, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She shakes her head, and you open your mouth to say something more, but the vice grip returns, and you grip her shoulders. Your head bows under the weight of the pain, and you clutch Ellie like a lifeline.

"Okay, they're getting closer together. Maria!" Ellie yells as she holds you upright. You vaguely register Maria rushing down the stairs and telling Ellie something, but you don't have enough energy to listen. Time could've stopped right there, and you would've had no way of knowing. No stab wound, gunshot, or punch even comes close to this pain level. Your breathing is uneven, and you can feel yourself sweating bullets despite the cool August air. You thought you were ready. You thought you knew what to expect after Jane, but this is different. You wonder why you thought you could have another baby as the contraction fades. Maria says your name, and you pick your head up from Ellie's shoulder.

"We need to get you to the hospital right now. Joel will meet us there." She says, but you shake your head, the lump of panic in your throat tightening. Memories of begging your mom, Jane's dad, friends, or anyone to come to the hospital so you wouldn't be alone replay in your head. You were alone and scared and sixteen fucking years old when you had Jane on a stormy Tuesday morning. The nurses looked at you like a kicked puppy and mumbled, "a baby having a baby," under their breaths when they left you to cry alone while holding your newborn.

"No, no, no. Joel's not here yet. I'm not going without him."

"I promise that Tommy will bring him to you. I'm sure they're on their way back now."

"I'm not going by myself!" The harshness in your tone makes everybody in the room pause. "I've already done this alone once, and I'm not fucking doing it again. So, we are going to wait for Joel even if I have this baby on the fucking floor! Do you understand me?"

"Hey," Ellie says softly. "Hey, you're not alone. At all. We're all here because we love you and want you to be safe. Nobody is going to leave, okay?" She says, rubbing your back as tears fill your eyes.

"I can't do this." without her, you want to add, but you don't. Ellie pushes the sweaty hair out of your eyes and holds your face so you can look at her. Your breath is shaky, and you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces, but her brown eyes are looking into yours so intently that you have no choice but to look back.

"You can. You can do this. You're doing so good. You're going to have this baby, and it'll probably be the cutest fucking baby ever. And we'll all make stupid faces at it and love it even though I don't even think I like most babies, and you'll be okay. Both of you," her eyes don't move from yours as she speaks, even when you start crying. "You're not alone, but I can tell you're in pain, and we need to get to the hospital before it gets worse, okay?" She asks, and you take a shaky breath before nodding. Ellie and Maria seem to let out sighs of relief at the same time, and they start ushering you to the door when it opens.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late," Joel yells as he and Tommy run in. He smiles and runs over and kisses you. You have half a mind to smack him for looking so giddy when you're in so much pain, but let him kiss you anyway. "You ready to have a baby?" He asks as another contraction tightens in your stomach, making you squeeze him tightly. You don't get to see your family scrambling to get out the door, but you feel it. Bags and coats find owners as your entourage helps support you down the steps of your home and on the path to the hospital.

Four contractions come and go on the way to the hospital doors, where Maria, Tommy, and Ellie cheer and promise to wait there until you're ready for them. "Almost there, baby. We're gonna get you all the good drugs, okay?" Joel tells you quietly as he flags down a nurse and a wheelchair for you. The nurse asks rapid-fire questions as she rushes you into a delivery room, and Joel does his best to answer them. You curl into yourself the second your body hits the hospital bed, yet another contraction hitting you, but this time with a familiar splitting pain. You're not going to have time for the good drugs.

The rest is a blur of doctors, nurses, questions, and Joel whispering praises into your temple. Your vision struggles to focus on anything as pain radiates from your hips to your back and up your spine. It's excruciating and dizzying, and you think you'd throw up if you weren't so focused on getting this fucking kid out. "One more, baby. One more push, and then it's over." Joel tells you. You don't respond. You can't. All the blood rushes through your ears, and you squeeze his hand hard. For a moment, the whole world stops, and tears fall down Joel's face as the tiny baby is placed on your chest. You gasp and hold them close as they screech, announcing their arrival loudly.

"It's a girl!" Someone announces, and you laugh weakly, struggling to catch your breath. You look down at your daughter and kiss her head as she continues to cry.

"You're okay. I've got you. We're okay, sweetheart. You're safe," you tell her, rubbing her back. Joel reaches out to trace the apple of her cheek and grabs her tiny hand. You and Joel join her crying, everything besides your family becoming obsolete. Joel presses a chaste kiss to your lips and smiles when you laugh against him. "I told you so." You say, and he laughs.

"You were right," he says. "I'm so proud of you." He kisses you again as your daughter cries beautifully on your chest. Jane didn't cry at first when she was born, effectively scaring the shit out of you and everyone else in the room, but when she finally did, it was like you were breathing for the first time, too. You think this may be the first time since her death that you've felt that much peace.

Joel cuts the cord, and the room devolves into a controlled madness with nurses and doctors calling things back and forth to each other. You don't care. The little girl on your chest has settled down and tucked her head under your chin, listening to your rapid heartbeat and recognizing the pattern. "We're right here, baby girl. We're not going anywhere, okay?" You whisper to her, kissing her over and over again. She smiles, and you immediately recognize Joel's crooked smile— nine months of carrying her and a record-breakingly fast delivery for her to be his twin.

"Mama, we're gonna take her to get cleaned up and get her measurements, okay? The doctor's working on getting you fixed up, too." A nurse says, and you nod.

"Just be careful, please. I made her from scratch, and it took a really fucking long time." You say as you pass her to the nurse. Everyone, including Joel, laughs even though you're serious. Joel leaves your side only to follow the nurse to the other side of the room, watching her every movement meticulously. You keep eyes on both of them. She starts fussing as the nurse cleans her up, and Joel reaches out to smooth her hair. He says something to her that you can't hear and watch him start crying again. She settles down again, but Joel is a mess. The nurse offers him a tissue, and you laugh to yourself but don't do anything to get his attention.

Let them have their secret conversation. You have a feeling it will be the first of many.

She's asleep, but you can't stop looking at her. Joel is lying in the hospital bed with you as she rests in his arms, your chin hooked over his shoulder so you can stare at her. The little girl who gave you enough excitement for a lifetime is bundled up in a white blanket with a striped hat covering her dark hair. Her legs are long and skinny, but she's strong, grasping anything within reach.

She has his nose and lips, but your eyes match. Her little chest rises and falls steadily, and little sighs come from her occasionally as she sleeps. Her hand somehow escaped the swaddle, and her fingers flex around the blanket's fabric like she's trying to decide whether she likes it. Joel reaches for her tiny hand and tries to tuck it away again, but she resists, making an angry face until he lets go. You laugh and melt simultaneously at her actions.

"She's perfect," you whisper as you kiss Joel's shoulder. He hums and turns to kiss your temple. "How did we get so lucky?"

"I've no idea," he whispers back. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Her. This. Making me a dad again." His voice is so tender and raw that your eyes mist up again. You sniffle and wipe your eyes.

"Anytime, cowboy," you rest your hand on her chest to feel the little heartbeat you made from nothing but stardust and blood. Her face scrunches up in her sleep before her little fingers find yours. "Well, maybe not anytime, but you know what I meant."

"Oh, 'm ready for another one right now."

"Never in a million fucking years could you convince me to do that again."

"You did great." He says, and you smile. You're both exhausted and should be sleeping, but you can't stop looking at the life you created together. She's not even a day old, and you know you would tear the world into a thousand pieces if she asked you to. You would do anything for her.

"D'you still like the name we picked?" You ask, and he nods.

"Do you?"

"I think it's perfect for her."

"Hey, guys," a nurse peeks her head in the door. "Are we ready for some visitors?" She asks. You nod, and Joel adjusts baby girl in his arms. Her little arm reaches up in a stretch, and she fusses when she loses the grip on your hand. You tell her you're not far, and Joel bounces her.

"Hey," Ellie says softly as she enters the room. You smile and sit up, ignoring the jarring pain in your hips at the movement. "Oh, my God. How are you feeling?" She asks as she hugs you like she's afraid she'll break you if she holds you too tight. You rub her back and kiss her head.

"I'm okay. I delivered pretty much the second they could get me to lay down."

"I knew we should've gone to the hospital sooner!" Ellie says, and Joel shushes her. She makes an eek face as she looks at him.

"A baby's tryin' to sleep here."

"Holy shit," she breathes, taking in the bundle in Joel's arms for the first time. "Girl or boy?"

"I'm pretty sure the Millers are only capable of having girls at this point," you say, and Ellie smiles. "Do you wanna hold her?"

"Can I?" She asks as Joel stands. She's unsure what to do but copies Joel's position and puts a hand under her back.

"Support her head," Joel instructs quietly as he carefully transitions your daughter into Ellie's arms.

"I got it. I got it," she says. Instinctively, she starts swaying back and forth and patting the baby's back. Joel stays nearby, watching as Ellie gets comfortable holding her. Your heart could explode seeing the three of them together. "Who are you?" She asks quietly, pulling the blanket under the baby's chin so she can see her.

"This is Charlotte Elaine Miller," you say. "Charlie, for short."

"Hey there, Charlie girl. My name's Ellie."

"She's your big sister." Joel adds. Even though he's talking to Charlie, he's looking at Ellie. She takes a shaky breath as she processes his words. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and kisses her forehead.

"I'm one of your big sisters," she says. The pregnancy hormones and the day's emotions catch up with you, and you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to. Something about seeing Ellie with Charlie hits you hard. "I've got so much to teach you and tell you about when you're a little bigger, though. There's not much I can do with you right now except, well, this," She shrugs as if to make her point to the sleeping baby, and you laugh. Charlie stretches again, probably getting used to having so much room now that she's out of you, and yawns. "Oh, big yawn. Good job." Ellie praises.

"You're a natural," Joel says, making her smile.

"I dunno about that, but she does like me. Right, Charlie girl?" she asks, and the Charlie girl in question chuffs. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together." She says sincerely. Joel meets your eyes, sending you a knowing look and a crooked smile, and you smile back a little sadly. He works at his jaw, and his Adam's apple bobs as his eyes sparkle with tears again. No words need to be exchanged. You know. You may be one of the only people who know. Ellie rambles to Charlie, ever the present audience, and you remember, silent and pious in your devotion.

You think you'll spend your whole life remembering, a constant scramble for pieces of memories that bring her closer. You think you'll find bits of her in music, the summer sun, and your girls' eyes. You think you'll tell Charlie of her big sisters, who were loved and cherished beyond belief, and their shared adoration of Patti Smith. You think you'll be able to find a way to talk about her that doesn't feel like your soul is desperately ripping away from you. For Sarah, Jane, Ellie, and now Charlie, you think you would do anything.

Even after so much loss, destruction, and nights spent hopelessly staring at the wall like it would be enough to start Jane's heart again, you think you would do it all again. The world can be a really shitty place, and you've seen firsthand how horrible people can be to each other. You and Joel have been a million different versions of awful people, and you can never escape that. But you have Ellie and Charlie. And each other. And for a moment, in this horribly lit hospital room, every minute of that misery has meaning.

💓

taglist: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #ellie williams #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #big sister Ellie Williams #there’s such an Easter egg in the baby’s name #first person to look up the name meanings gets a kiss on the mouth #look for the light

1K notes · View notes

tpwkwriter · 10 months

Note

could u please do where the reader falls asleep on his lap and harry finds it adorable and takes a picture of her and doesnt move so she doesnt wake up but when she finally does harry kisses her and says how beautiful she is and shows her the picture he put as a new lockscreen :D

~Personal pillow~

Awweeee this concept❤️ thank you so much! Sorry this has taken a while a lot has been going on lately, thank for all of your patience🫶🏼

— — — — — —— — —— — —— — —— — —— — ——

It had been a long week, one of them weeks were waking up was hard enough, one of them weeks were working days were long and hard, Friday was a godsend.

Harry leaned back on there shared sofa, his legs outstretched on the ottoman adjacent to him, his eyes glued to the Tv mounted on the wall, which was showing some 90s romcom.

It was a Friday evening, y/n’s return from work was nearing, Friday evening was the one of the couple’s favourite evenings, an evening full of cuddles, takeout, and a random show which they’d end up binging the whole weekend.

Knowing y/n has had a crappy week, he made sure her favourite candles were lit, there shared home was tidy and her favourite drinks and snacks were stocked in the fridge. He was thoughtful like that.

It was nearing 6pm and there was 0 sign of his loves return, Harry normally understood the girl had to work late sometimes, but it never stopped him from thoughts circling his mind, he reaches for his phone checking the notifications and still nothing, just as he clicks to his messages, he hears the familiar keys enter the lock.

Even after a long day at work she still managed to look like the prettiest girl to walk the Earth. She walked in bag on shoulder eyes sleepy and hair slightly frizzy but she still managed to glow.

“Y alright darling?” He calmly asked, forgetting his phone to the side.

“Mmhmm” she hummed, toeing off her shoes and hanging her jacket and bag up and remembering to toss her keys in the bowl so she didn’t forget them.

Harry could read y/n and vice versa, Harry knew that sometimes y/n could be just be quiet that never meant she was mad or upset, sometimes she just enjoyed listening over speaking and that was okay.

“Tea love?” He offered.

“Please H” she faintly smiled.

Harry was quick to his feet, before he got to the kitchen he pressed a sweet kiss to the girls rosey lips to which she happily fell in.

“Go get comfy, n I’ll sort dinner” he hummed in-between pecks.

Y/n got upstairs and stripped out of her work clothes and comfortably changed into Harry’s green packers hoodie which was a perfect oversized fit, and her white pyjama shorts, before moving she took a moment to take in the scent of the hoodie which still smelled like her lover. Home. Is all she could think about.

The smell of brewed tea and fresh linen candles practically lulled her dow the stairs.

She saw Harry back in his original position on the sofa, she didn’t hesitate to curl up next to him with the warm mug of tea.

“Thank you for this bubs” she mewled leaning her head on his arm by his side.

“N’worries love” he contently sighed at the feel of her touch and presence.

“Anything in particular y’want for dinner?” He asked pulling up his phone with his free hand.

“Usual” she softly hummed.

“N’problem lovie”

Once they have had dinner, and cleared up y/n’s energy levels had really ran low.

Without another word, y/n adjusted her position and laid her head on his lap, her legs were a perfect fit on the rest of the sofa allowing her a great deal of space.

Harry didn’t question or query he accommodated her and her comfort.

His left hand instinctively went to her hair and softly played with and combed through her locks.

His eyes glanced down at her to check she was okay.

“Y’okay angel? Haven’t heard much from ya tonight” he gently asked leaning his head down pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Mmhmm, just sleepy, s’been a long week” she softly smiled using her right arm to caress his cheek.

“Y’can relax now sweet girl” he whispered.

His eyes go back to the Tv screen in-front of them within 15 minutes of time passing and Harry’s fingers running through her hair it wasn’t long until the girl was killed into a slumber.

Soft snores and sighs were occasionally heard from the girl on his lap.

His heart couldn’t help but melt, he now felt obliged to stay still and let the girl rest peacefully.

Seeing her so vulnerable and so peaceful made something click into him, yes they shared a bed every night and had seen each other sleep a million times, but there was something about his girl using him as a pillow which just made his heart burst.

He was in awe.

Luckily his phone was in arms reach, ‘Lock Screen opportunity’ he thought to himself, he opened the camera app on his phone and happily took a few photos of the girl.

“As if I couldn’t love you anymore” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose.

A few moments of f pure bliss passed until a faint noise appeared from the sleep girl.

Her eyes began to flutter open.

“Y’wanna get into bed?” He softly asked, hovering above her rosey lips.

“Mmhmm” she sleepily hummed.

“Can y’stay with me though” she quietly asked.

“Of course I will lovie” he answered

“Carry me please?” She pleaded, the idea of having to move annoyed her at that moment.

“Whatever y’say darlin” he smirks.

He gently moves out of y/n’s touch and gently placed her head back on the sofa replacing his lap which earns a small whine from his girl.

One forearm goes under the girls knees as the other under her shoulders using his shoulder to support her head on.

She hums in contentness, the feeling of him just being there.

He presses a kiss on the top of her head before carefully plopping her down on her side of the bed and covering her with there shared duvet.

As H places his phone into the charging lead his phone screen flashes a new image that is his lock screen.

“Baby, lemme see y’phone again” she softly laughs.

Catching on to what she was saying, “oh this” he faintly chuckles showing her the screens background.

The image shows the girls face peacefully sleeping on his lap, her eyelashes almost touching her cheek, her lips rosey and almost in a pout, her cheeks a perfect blush colour with no single indent. Even in these moments she was just beautiful.

“Harryyyyyyy” she playfully dragged, blushing once again.

“Y’look so perfect on m’lap like tha” he replied, placing his free arm over the sleepy girls shoulder.

“Mmm, I love you” he mumbled into her cheek before pressing a sweet kiss there.

“I love you too, even if take pictures of my most vulnerable moments” she smiled into his touch.

— — — — — —— — —— — —— — —— — —— — —

676 notes · View notes

plutosunshine · 1 year

Text

Something special about Rising signs

Aries Rising

Something about your goal-oriented unstoppable attitude for life. If you set a goal, nothing can stop you. You focus all your energy to make things happen for you. It is your spark, fire, and passion. You don’t see the obstacles as something that can stop you, you overcome them with all your energy and passion. If you have something in mind, the level of your motivation is incredible. However, it is important for you to have a real passion for the things you do, otherwise, you lose interest.

Taurus Rising

It is something about your energy. It is so welcoming, warm, and cozy. I constantly recognize Taurus Risings for their comforting aura. Even if a person is restless, fiery, and chaotic, this person still exudes a kind of calm and welcoming energy. It feels like they know that everything is gonna be alright or they know something we don’t and that’s why they exude this confident stable energy. It is so calming to be around Taurus Rising people. Feels like they will protect you no matter what.

Gemini Rising

Something special about this Rising is that these people are open to ANYTHING. They leave their door open not to miss something interesting and thrilling. Even if they have heavy Capricorn, Virgo, or whatever chart and don’t believe, for example, in esoteric things, they won't completely deny it. Because Gemini Rising leaves the door open for any kind of knowledge so that they could do their analysis later and become even smarter than before.

Cancer Rising

Something very special about this Rising is their empathy. They see the world through their empathy and it does good and bad for them. I want to mention that empathy does not equal insight. Cancer Risings are not always good at reading the minds of people and guessing their next step, it is more Scorpio thing. Cancer Risings are all about empathy. They feel what others feel, they feel bad for poor children or sick animals, etc. Their kindness goes from here. They feel and want to make others feel better.

Leo Rising

Something special about this Rising is that these people shine bright. What I mean is that you can see Leo Rising people from afar. They are like the Sun, their smile is something unique and their presence is noticeable. They NEED attention even if they subtly show it. If you recognize their personality, they will uplift you like no other. They are really good at supporting but they need to know that you are by their side.

Virgo Rising

Something I find really special about Virgo Risings is their desire to help people. They are the kind of people who don’t want to bother you. They will find all the ways possible to help you when you need it. And when you don’t. Haha. They are really good at solving problems and most of the time they want to do it for others. These people often suffer from this quality because they put others first most of the time. However, if they manage to deal with this side of themselves, it won't bother them.

Libra Rising

Something special about this Rising is their desire to cooperate. I mean Libra is one-to-one relationships, all kinds of contracts and negotiations. That is why Libra Risings subconsciously seek cooperation with others. Whether it be a long-term relationship or a long-term work contract, they always need to be in some sort of deal. This perfectly works for their social life because you can be sure that Libra Rising is your long-term friend (but watch out for other placements too).

Scorpio Rising

Scorpio Risings are the hardest to recognize without knowing the birth time. These people can be social or withdrawn, active or totally homebody. You never know. But a very special thing about this Rising is their ability to attract massive changes into their and their close ones' lives. It is really a special talent. It can be played out as transformative or even toxic relationships that can change the whole life. Or it can be sudden life changes that make one move to another country. You never know what will happen to them. They subconsciously attract transformative unique experiences like no other.

Sagittarius Rising

Something special about this Rising is their hope. Even if a person has a heavy Scorpio or Capricorn chart and is not so optimistic, they still see the light in life that lets them move forward. They may say pessimistic things but their actions show their hopeful attitude to life. They always find a way to overcome obstacles and move forward. Their inner hope and faith are unbelievable and sometimes it seems like nothing can stop them.

Capricorn Rising

Something special about this Rising is their determination. They say a lot of pessimistic things and they don’t believe in themselves at times but DO NOT trust them! Their tactic is to prepare themselves for the worst and not to be disappointed in the future if things don’t come out as they want. But they always get their sh*t done. They know what they want and they will get it. Maybe slowly but definitely will. However, I need to mention that they have to know exactly what their goal is.

Aquarius Rising

Something special about this Rising… everything is special about this Rising haha! They see the world as a place full of unique experiences so they subconsciously create this for themselves. Their perspective in life is really something out of this world, do not even try to understand them. They are ahead of their time so just wait a little bit and you will understand them later haha.

Pisces Rising

Something special about this Rising is that they see the world as a piece of art, as something magical and unreal. It creates an illusion in their perception though. However, this ability to add a little bit of magic to the world is their superpower. This Rising collected all the qualities from the other signs so they are capable of creating something really unique and making their contribution. Empathy, perception, insight, magic, and intuition help them in this journey.

#astrology #astro #natal chart #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #ascendant #astrology posts #zodiac #zodiac signs #rising sign #rising

592 notes · View notes

hoseokslefteyebrow · 10 months

Text

005

Pairing : Miguel O'Hara X Best Friend Reader

Genre : fluff

Summary : Miguel being Miguel at his finest.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Miguel O’Hara Masterlist

This is a direct continuation of 004. : )

Surprisingly enough (or somewhat not), it doesn't take long before the two of you fall into an easy routine. It takes Miguel a total of two days before he's completely used to having your presence the little amount more around than usual

It scares Miguel how natural it feels to share his bed with you, and to live with you. It's now been a little over two weeks since you've been staying at his place, and he absolutely loves it. Not that he's willing to admit that to anyone.

He loves how easy it is to come home to a freshly cooked meal, or to cook together when he finds the time for it. He loves waking up next to you, wrapped up into one another. You relax him to a level where he actually has to put an alarm clock on in order to wake up on time. Sleeping more comfortably with you next to him.

The attack at your place did shake him though, having brought him right back into his paranoia about losing you. Just a little more than before. He's strict in the simple rule of wanting to pick you up when you have a shift until late. He's also adamant about dropping you off when you start early. (The shop you work at is open from 8-21', morning shifts start at 6'.)

Currently it's afternoon, and your shift ended about 10 minutes ago. You're on your way to his lab, and should be arriving soon. At least, he hopes you arrive soon. Peter B is in his lab, and keeps on telling him about Mayday, who's also crawling all over the place.

Miguel sighs once more as Peter just wouldn't stop talking.

" Peter. I really don't care. Go bother someone else." Miguel grumbles, hoping Peter will take the obvious hint and leave.

To his disappointment, he doesn't. Things get even more interesting annoying when one of the recently recruited spider woman walk into the lab.

He doesn't like her. Not even a little bit. He doesn't understand why Ben brought her in. She was an okay spiderwoman, but maybe not yet great enough for the multiverse. He still trusts Ben though, trusting his judgement on this one.

" Hi Peter, hi Miguel!" She calls to both of them with a smile.

Miguel can't even remember her name.

Peter enthusiastically calls back to her whilst Miguel himself grumbles a forced greeting in response.

She wordlessly slings herself onto his platform as well, smiling as she holds out a box to him.

He raises a brow at her in question.

" I heard you usually tend to skip lunch unless someone reminds you, so I decided to bring you some empanadas, I heard you like those." She smiles.

He admits the gesture is sweet. But he can't be bothered to give a damn when he knows you're on your way with freshly baked goodies. (The cafe you work at is also a fresh bakery.)

" Y/N's on her way with my lunch." He deadpans, no emotion visible on his face.

He has no idea if you actually are, but you usually bring him something.

Nameless spiderwoman blushes in embarrassment, something Peter is able to help with.

" Hey, Mayday and I haven't eaten yet! We'll take em." He smiles.

" Don't let Mayday eat in my lab, Peter. It'll be a mess." Miguel warns Peter, who hums and skip off.

Spider woman remains, something Miguel doesn't really understand, but whatever.

As if on que, he hears your footsteps nearing from down the hall, and so he lowers his platform wordlessly.

Just as the platform almost nears the ground, you walk in. Miguel can't help himself when a slight smile pulls at his face.

With some struggles, and a helping hand, you manage to climb onto the platform.

" Thanks. Also, here's your lunch. We were making croissants this morning. One has chocolate by the way, I'm only willing to share that one if you ask nicely." You tell him, setting a paper bag onto his desk.

You turn to the spider woman with a smile, surprising her.

" Hi, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself yet- I'm Y/N. Not a spider person, I just mostly hang out around HQ when I'm not working." You grin, holding out your hand for her.

She takes it, smiling politely.

" Hi. My name is Mary Jane, but I mostly go by MJ." She smiles as well.

" Was I interrupting anything?" You ask as you glance back at Miguel, who's munching on a croissant.

MJ opens her mouth to reply, but Miguel beats her to it.

" No, you're fine. She was just leaving." Miguel says, giving MJ a pointed look.

MJ turns pink in embarrassment again before mumbling out a greeting and swinging away.

" You sure I didn't?" You ask him. " She seemed to have something to say." You tell him.

He shrugs.

" I don't really care to be honest. " He tells you.

You hum, before plopping into his desk chair and opening up something on your phone.

" Hey so I've been looking around, and I found a new apartment. It's a little farther away, and even smaller, but it's in a nicer neighborhood and has better security." You tell him, opening up the site on your phone to show him.

However, when you turn your phone to face him , you find him already looking at you, as if he meant to tell you something a while ago.

" Right." He starts, glancing at the screen of your phone before he wipes his mouth of crumbs with his sleeve. " So uhm, I was actually thinking...- What if you stay with me?" He asks, eyes showcasing that kind of vulnerability he only shows with you.

You blink at him.

" You can't be serious right?" You ask him eventually.

" What?"

" Look. You're my best friend. And you always will be. But don't be mistaken that I didn't notice how you cast me aside until I was in danger two weeks ago, Miguel. You can't just treat me like that, save me, and expect us to share a space on your name in which you could kick me out whenever you want." You tell him.

There's no bite in your words, no ill intentions. Miguel knows he messed up with the stupid idea of creating distance between the two of you, now he isn't even sure why he made that decision.

" Look, uhm, I- I don't know how to explain this to you, but I have a sort of valid... reason? I didn't do it because I was bored of you or something. I know I never will be, in fact." He tells you, stepping closer to you as he takes your free hand in his.

" I'll tell you when I'm ready. I promise. But for now, I just can't tell you." He tells you quietly.

In truth, his reasoning is pretty wacky. He's fallen for you. Hard. And he was afraid of his own feelings, still is, but just slightly less.

You sigh, but nod.

" Look, I trust you. Just promise me you won't randomly kick me out and we can see if this works out." You tell him, your thumb running comforting patterns over his hand.

He visibly brightens up at your words as he nods. " Okay." He smiles softly.

The two of you are now so close, it's incredibly tempting to kiss you right now. Almost giving into the moment to bend down and connect your lips to his- he's grateful to be distracted when one of his screens showcase a circling movement, signaling an anomaly.

You turn to look at it as well- were you too swept up in the moment?

" Right. Work. " You hum as you pick out your chocolate croissant from the bag on top of his table.

[ A/N: Anyone one has any ideas for this one shot-series book? I'm lowkey running out of scenarios except for a selected few but I don't feel like quitting these two just yet.]

000 - Taglist

006

@adamsloverboy

@ihateuguys

@alchemist421

@julesclues

@bxrbiewrites

@dammittjanet

#miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o' hara x you

216 notes · View notes

multiplicity-positivity · 6 months

Text

Switching Tips and Info

Hello! We’ve often said here that for our system, switching is involuntary and happens automatically or with the help of our gatekeeper. However, we often get asked here about switching, how it works, how to practice switching, and how to switch for the very first time. In general, we’re probably unequipped to confidently answer these questions. But we’ve decided to put together this post with information we’ve picked up from therapy, research, and learning from other systems. We hope this can help you and your system learn to switch more effortlessly!

Disclaimer: We are not an expert or clinician by any stretch of the word! We are one DID system sharing our experience and information we’ve picked up during our time in treatment and system spaces. This post comes from the perspective of a system with DID, though much of this advice could be potentially useful for all sorts of systems!

What is switching?

Switching is a common occurrence in systems when one headmate swaps places with another in order to perceive and interact with the world. Systems of all sorts can switch, not just those with dissociative disorders like DID or OSDD! Switching can look incredibly different from system to system, and may vary based on a wide variety of factors such as:

System origin

Previous history with switching

Degree of dissociative barriers

Comfort levels with fronting and switching for each headmate

The presence of a system manager or gatekeeper

Safety of the system overall

And more!

Do all systems switch?

No, not every system wants to switch or is capable of switching! Many systems exist with one primary fronter and many headmates who either cofront, are coconscious, or never front to experience the outside world at all. Switching is not a requirement to be a system, and it’s not even a requirement to have a dissociative disorder.

Many systems may find that headmates have switched before without noticing it! Before a system’s “syscovery,” headmates may lose time, experience identity shifts, or interact with other system members without ever realizing that they’re plural. In fact, an overwhelming majority of systems with disorders like DID and OSDD are covert, meaning their switches and other symptoms often go unnoticed by other people or the systems themselves!

How can I switch with my headmates?

We don’t have any surefire way to guarantee switching, as every system is unique and no two systems function in exactly the same way! However, here are some ideas for you and your headmates to try in order to help a switch occur.

1. Open communication

Communicate with as many headmates as you can on a regular basis. Keep an open dialogue, and talk to your headmates about fronting, what that might look like for them, and any worries they have about potentially fronting in the future. Try to address each headmate’s fears and concerns to the best of your ability before expecting them to front. Imagine together what it might look like for other headmates to front. Try to understand what happens to headmates in your system who aren’t fronting: do they enter your system’s headspace/inner world? Do they stop fully existing or enter a sort of stasis? Are they still able to perceive the outside world at all? Having a stable, steady line of communication and an understanding of how your system works can help make it easier to allow other headmates to front when the time comes!

2. Seek out a gatekeeper or system manager

Many, but not all, systems have members whose role is specifically to manage who fronts and control switches. Our own system has a gatekeeper who handles the majority of our switches! If you haven’t already, try to learn whether or not your system already has an established gatekeeper. If you do, establishing a connection with that headmate and communicating with them will be essential for switching in the future.

If your system doesn’t have a gatekeeper/manager, that’s fine! A headmate with this role is not required for system to experience switches. For those who do have them, however, cooperating with managers and gatekeepers can help make switching a smoother, more painless process!

3. Ensure safety

Don’t attempt to switch if your system is not 100% safe, and only try to switch after all headmates involved feel comfortable and secure. NEVER try to force a headmate to switch who doesn’t want to. Respect each other’s boundaries and rights to personal autonomy.

When you’re ready to try and purposefully switch, do so in a safe, comfortable, secluded environment. Try to limit distractions and opportunities for interruptions. Check in with headmates that you have access to, and ensure that everyone feels safe and comfortable before attempting to switch.

For minors, traumagenic systems, and those who currently live with abusers or those who have harmed them: it may be for the best to not attempt to switch until you’re in a situation where you are distanced from those who have caused you harm (be them parents, friends, loved ones, or anyone else). Unfortunately for many systems, this may mean waiting until you have moved out of your family’s home in order to put some space between you and your system’s abusers.

Trying to switch when you’re not 100% sure of your system’s safety could absolutely cause more harm than good! The safety and well-being of your system is more important than providing headmates with opportunities to purposefully switch. There will be plenty of time in your future to learn more about your system and attempt to manage switches! Until then, it’s probably best to allow your system to function in ways that ensure your safety and the safety of your headmates.

4. Use positive triggers

Positive triggers are external stimuli that can help bring certain headmates closer to the front by reminding the system about that headmate and what they enjoy. Having a wide range of positive triggers at your disposal can help make it easier to get a headmate to switch with you! Here are some examples of what positive triggers can look like:

Music for each headmate, including playlists, albums, artists, and songs

Stimboards, moodboards, inspiration boards, and other collections of images that speak out to each headmate

Cooking, preparing, or eating a food, snack, or beverage that a particular headmate enjoys

Engaging with hobbies, media, and activities that a particular headmate is known to like

And more! Get creative with your system and brainstorm different positive triggers you can incorporate into your lives in order to help facilitate switches in the future!

5. Manage expectations

Unfortunately, not all systems are able to switch. Some hosts and other frontstuck headmates may never be able to fully leave the front. Cofronting with another headmate and allowing them to make decisions and treat the body as their own can be a great way to allow other system members to front, even if it’s not a full-fledged “switch.” Switching can look incredibly different for different systems, and even for different headmates in the same system! So don’t be too discouraged if you or your frontstuck members aren’t able to switch out fully - cofronting and being coconscious are both valid ways for other headmates to experience the world.

Where can I learn more about switching?

There’s lots of information out there to help all kinds of systems start learning about or managing switches! Here are some links to websites where you can learn more.

Note: some sites which are geared towards created, spontaneous, or endogenic systems may suggest purposeful dissociation as a way to trigger a switch. While this may be useful for some systems, adding more dissociation to the lives of those already struggling with dissociative disorders is a very bad idea and should be avoided! So if you are diagnosed with a dissociative disorder (DID, OSDD, DPDR, etc.), suspect you may have a dissociative disorder, or suspect your system is trauma-formed, it may be best to avoid following advice from sites aimed towards paromacers, those with thoughtforms, and nontraumagenic systems. For everyone’s convenience, we have starred (*) links to guides which involve purposeful dissociation so systems who already have trouble with dissociation can avoid them! If you’re not sure whether or not your system has dissociation issues, it’s best to PLAY IT SAFE and avoid these kinds of guides. Please use critical thinking and your own discretion when reading about switching online!

Terminology note: some of these sites use “tulpa” language, which is known to be racist and culturally appropriative. Please keep this in mind when browsing these sites. In our personal life, we use “paro/paromancy” language instead to avoid causing further harm to marginalized groups.

Intentional Switching (DID) from DIS-SOS

Switching and Passive Influence from DID-Research.org

*Fuliam’s Guide on how to switch from Tulpa.info*

*Malfael’s Guide to Switching from Tulpanomicon*

Our own resource post for questioning systems has lots of links to resources on dissociative disorders and other forms of plurality, many of which may have sections or advice on switching!

Questions? Comments? Something we missed?

We could write whole books on the many different aspects of switching, and how switches can vary from system to system and headmate to headmate. We’re sorry if we’ve left something out here that you or your system thinks is important! This post didn’t touch on passive influence, rapid switching, physical symptoms of switching, and many other switching-related topics. This is just a general overview with some advice on switching intentionally and voluntarily!

If you have any further questions, feel free to comment on this post or send us an ask and we’d be happy to answer to the best of our ability! We may not have all the answers, but we’re happy to share what we know. If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! Stay well, and have a great day!

#multiplicity #plurality #pluralgang #actuallyplural #long post #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #partial did #osdd #did #p did #switching #trauma mention #abuse mention

87 notes · View notes

gvfgal · 1 year

Text

The Art of Life: Part One

18+ Minor dni!!!

A/n: This was supposed to be a one shot, but the plot was too good and the one shot wouldn’t have done it justice. So this will be a nice fluffy little Josh series (some smut in later parts). I’m not exactly sure how many parts, I’m thinking 4 or 5.

Only warning for this chapter is STRANGER DANGER!!!

Word Count: 3.6k

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You fought to keep your head up as you sat in your Advanced Art History lecture. As much as you loved the class, you found it hard to really absorb the lesson when you were completely zombified.

The sun was already on the horizon by the time you finished the piece you were working on for your Mediums class, and you’d only managed an hour of sleep before you were up again for your morning class.

Who schedules a lecture at 7 in the morning, anyways?

But your presence was important, so you begrudgingly decided to power through, knowing you’d be crammed up in your room going over the PowerPoint later anyways.

“If you guys remember from last week, one of the most renowned Netherlandish artists, Jan van Eyck, revolutionized painting by substituting the oil medium for tempera. He was court painter to the Duke of Burgundy…”

Your professor's monotone voice droned through the otherwise dead silent classroom as you craned your neck to look out the window on the gloomy cityscape.

Due to the overcast and your lecture being held on the 10th floor, there were thick clouds obstructing your view, but if you focused hard enough, you could see the bustle of the New York streets unfolding below you.

It was supposed to be stormy weather all day, and it only made you dread the busy schedule that lay ahead of you.

After Advanced Art History, there was a three hour break until your next class; Studio Art 3. During that time, you’d usually grab a bite to eat then nestle into a corner in the library. After Studio Art, you had to make a b-line to your ceramics class (which you hated the most), where you’d spend the rest of your evening working on your midterm piece.

After that would be hours on end of homework in your room for your more knowledge based classes.

This meant no rest in sight, and you could feel the stress and exhaustion consuming you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When the little hand hit the nine, your professor dismissed class, and per your routine, you headed to the ground level cafe for a breakfast sandwich and coffee (in hopes of gaining even an ounce of energy.) You ate as you made your way to the library, a short walk across campus, the rain pulled back just enough to allow you to enjoy it without struggle.

The library was usually almost empty this early, only a handful of other students probably in the same situation you were in scattered about the three story building.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you passed another student passed out in an armchair with his hoodie slung over his face, either hungover from the night before, or catching up on sleep after pulling an all nighter for an assignment.

One thing that brought you a strange sense of comfort, was that being at an art school, full of diversely talented students that were intensely devoted to their passions, you weren’t the only one overwhelmed all the time.

As an art student, you struggled coming up with portfolio concepts that reflected your visions and ideas. Stepping outside of your comfort zone to work with unfamiliar mediums (like that damn Ceramics class.) Or even staying up until the crack of dawn writing analysis papers for your Art History class.

And between all of that, you still had to find time to work on commission pieces.

But other majors had similar struggles. You’ve seen dancers in the studio from sunup to sundown, trying to perfect choreography for upcoming shows. Orchestra students with fingertips calloused from plucking at instruments constantly, or crouched over pianos in the wee hours of the morning, hair tasseled like some snapshot from Phantom of the Opera. Film majors carrying loads of heavy and expensive equipment around campus, having to stop several times to assemble and disassemble when they found the perfect shot.

Everyone here was a slave to their craft, and it made you feel less alone.

On the third floor of the library, you found a cozy corner with two leather armrest chairs and a small table between them, stained with several coffee rings from previous caffeine addicted students.

Once you were settled into your seat, you popped your headphones in and let your rainy day playlist play and began typing away on your laptop in hopes of relieving some work from later.

But the tension was evident in your body, and you were typing manically on your keyboard, taught and rigid in posture.

“Hey,” a voice interrupted from your thoughts, just above the sound of Midlake playing from your headphones.

You jerked your head up to see a rather short guy standing before you, wild and damp curls sticking this way and that from the top of his head.

He was smiling at you like he knew you, but you were sure you’d never met him before.

But his smile was beautiful.

“Hi,” your reply was uneasy, your face skeptic. You removed one of your earbuds, “can I help you?”

He shrugged, gripping onto the straps of his backpack, “just couldn’t help but notice you look stressed.”

You blushed slightly, “is it that obvious?”

His smile broadened, and his head tilted to the side, causing his curls to bounce, “only a lot.”

Both of you laughed.

You weren’t really one to engage in random conversations with strangers, but you partly blamed your delirious state of sleepiness (that your coffee did nothing to cure), and how attractive this particular stranger was.

“I’m Josh.”

He crouched forward with an extended hand, and you shook it gently, “y/n.”

He nodded his head towards the seat next to you that was occupied by your backpack, silently asking if he could join you, and without much thought, you moved to clear the seat.

“What are you working on?” He questioned as he settled next to you, leaning in to take a glance at your computer. It was strange how comfortable he was talking to you, as if you were some old friend of his.

Strange, yet endearing.

You turned your computer a bit so he could see your screen full of sentences you were sure made no sense. Hopefully he didn’t look too closely.

“It’s an analysis paper for my Art History class, I’m an art major.”

His brows peaked on his head, “nice. Film major here.”

“I figured,” you nodded towards his tremendously oversized backpack, more than likely housing loads of film equipment.

Josh looked down at his bag, then back at you with a grin, “is it that obvious?”

You smiled back, “only a lot.”

He returned his attention to your computer screen, “so what then, are we analyzing?”

Feeling self conscious about your shitty writing, you slowly grabbed your laptop and brought it to your lap, but that didn’t seem to deter him.

“We have to choose three expressionist pieces, one popular, one controversial, and one personal favorite, and dissect them.”

He seemed to be following, and he gave a curt nod, “looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“That’s only part of it. Try doing this on top of projects for other classes, and still trying to find time to work on commission pieces so you can make enough money to not get kicked out of your far too expensive brownstone that you can barely afford but just had to have…”

You trailed off as your eyes found Josh’s face again. His eyes were wide, the corner of his mouth tugged upwards, and suddenly you felt embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you peeped, “that was way more than you probably wanted to know. I’m just,” you sighed, rubbing remnants of sleep from your eyes, “I’m just exhausted.”

Josh shook his head, “no need to apologize, mama. Sometimes you have to get it off your chest.”

Mama. You liked that.

“Yeah, think I’ve been holding that in.”

“Sounds like you need a break.”

You nodded. You didn’t get a lot of those.

“You should ditch class, come spend the day with me.”

Your head snapped in his direction, and his face showed no sign of his unconventional suggestion.

“What?”

He leaned into you, speaking lower than he was before, “look, I have a confession. I didn’t just approach you because you looked tired, though that was a big part of it, fellow creative and all.”

You raised a curious eyebrow. Suddenly you weren’t so sure about this guy.

“You see, the real reason I approached you was because I’m working on a project of my own for a class. And I need a muse.”

Even more skeptical than before, you leaned back, “what kind of film are we talking about, Josh? You’re not trying to put me in some cult erotica film are you?”

He threw his head back and laughed loudly, and a few students scowled in your direction, causing you to grow uncomfortable.

But the sound of his laughter was so melodic, you simultaneously didn’t want it to cease.

“You’re funny. You know that?” His laughter had died down, and he was speaking in a hushed tone again.

“It’s nothing like that… unless you’re into that kinda thing?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you began fiddling with the sleeve of your jacket.

“Kidding,” he eased your nerves, “It’s more of a creative documentary of sorts. A look into the mind of a student of the arts. And the weather today fits my vision for the film perfectly.”

You were much more relaxed now, hearing him explain his idea. And truthfully, you were quite interested. You weren’t friends with any film majors at the school, so you weren’t aware of what the process was like, but you figured it reflected your own creative process in a way.

You must create when inspiration strikes.

But you weren’t done teasing yet.

“So out of all the students in the library,” you looked around to emphasize your point, “you came and asked me?”

He could tell you were messing with him, “well you look like you needed a break the most,” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair, “and none of them are as pretty as you are, y/n. And I say nothing makes a film better than an angelic protagonist?”

Angelic.

He thought you were angelic.

Your cheeks flushed red, but not from the nippy air outside, and Josh’s expression was smug.

After staring for a moment, he leaned in, “so what do y’a say? Take a break from the busy life of a tortured artist and be my muse for a day?”

It’d be completely crazy to agree. You’d hardly skip class when you were feeling sick, let alone to rendezvous with some handsome stranger. But the offer was rather compelling.

You gave him a good look over. He appeared rather harmless. In no way was he a monster of a man, and if you needed to, you figured you could take him down long enough to escape.

Your eyes fell to his shirt, and you squinted your read the words.

Frankenmuth, Michigan.

Never heard of it.

When you looked back at him, he was watching you with an entranced expression.

“Fine, I’m in.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

How you’d let a stranger convince you to spend your day out in the rain in New York, you’d never know. But here you were, letting Josh drag you from location to location, in search of the perfect shot.

Your first stop was the coffee shop (it was your trade off, he buys you another coffee and you continue to be his Guinea pig), then after that, it was off to Central Park.

You were confused when, upon arrival, the two of you simply sat on the bench in the mist, Josh looking out thoughtfully at the very few people around the area.

But finally, he reached into his bag and pulled out a medium sized film camera, followed by a small umbrella.

As he attached the two together, you began laughing.

“Is that really an umbrella for your camera?”

He looked up at you and smiled, “don’t laugh. This is expensive equipment.”

After he fiddled a bit longer, you saw the camera shutter flick open.

“Wh- what do I do?” you asked, suddenly feeling nervous under the watchful eye of the camera.

Josh was scoping you out through the lens, tweaking the knob on the top to adjust the focus.

“Jussssttttt, stand there and look pretty. Yep, just like that.”

He pressed a button on the top of a camera, and a light flashed red, “andddd we’re rolling.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You guys spent some time wandering about in the park, Josh stopping you every so often to capture you at different angles in different spots.

After that, he dragged you to one of the many art galleries in the city. He paid for your admission, and the two of you scaled the building, admiring the many sculptures that were displayed.

It was funny to you, the giddy child-like feeling you got whenever you stepped inside of the gallery. The gears in your head began turning faster as you began picking apart different pieces, finding hidden meanings like some artistic scavenger hunt.

When you stopped and lingered in front of a painting longer than most, Josh seized the opportunity to record you, flicking the camera on and standing behind you.

“From the eyes of an artist, what’s your analysis of this painting?”

Tilting your head, you assessed the painting further.

There were two trees connected at the root, that expanded out in opposite directions, large branches crawling up the canvas. The tree on the left had leaves that were shaded in fiery shades of reds and oranges, the one on the right, cool, vibrant shades of blue and purple. The rest of the canvas was dancing in some abstract patterns that gave movement to the entire piece.

You were still facing it when you responded, “Well, I think the two trees symbolize two people. And it shows how even though they can be so similar at the roots, they can still grow apart in completely different directions, until on the surface, you couldn’t even tell they came from the same origin.”

Josh smiled at your answer, “I like that,” you turned to give him a smile of your own, “but… you gotta admit it kinda looks like a hairy vagina, too.”

You gazed back at the painting, “yeah… I can see that too.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Once the tour of the art gallery was complete, both you and Josh were starving, and he whisked you off to what he claimed was ‘the best damn restaurant in all of New York.’ It was a small pizzeria, no larger than one of the classrooms on campus, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the best damn pizza you ever tasted.

The two of you talked over mouthfuls of food, learning more about each other since you were still technically strangers. He told you about his hometown, and revealed to you that he had a twin brother.

It seemed like the more he told you about himself, the more you wanted to know. You found this stranger more interesting than anyone you’d ever met, and hearing him talk about all the things he did had you eager to tune in. You didn’t want to miss a word from his mouth.

Josh insisted on paying for lunch, since he told you he’d more than likely need more of your time beyond that day to complete the vision for his film.

When you told him that you needed to go to the art depo to pick up more supplies, he readily agreed to tag along. He and his camera followed you up and down aisles as you selected fresh colors and brushes.

Then the rain came. It poured so heavily, the two of you were forced to take shelter in a nearby bookstore. You and Josh nestled into a quiet corner, sifting through a collective pile of books each of you had plucked from the shelves.

Eventually, you found your home in a copy of What Moves The Dead by T. Kingfisher, and for the next several hours, you sat with your headphones in, flipping through the pages as you waited for the rain to pass.

You were a little over halfway through when Josh, who had disappeared from his spot almost an hour ago, came bouncing around one of the shelves, wearing what you now realized was his signature smile.

“Hey,” you removed your headphones to listen, “rain cleared out. Come on, there’s one more place I want to take you before the sun sets.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Harbor was windy. Josh had you standing in front of the railing, back towards the water as he adjusted the shot. Signs of the fresh rain were apparent in the atmosphere, and the dim glow of the sunset behind the passing storm clouds casted a faint rainbow across the water’s surface.

“You ready?”

The wind sent your hair whipping across your face, and you fought to tame it, “ready as I can be, I guess.”

He pressed record, “okay. When it comes to your art, what would you say your biggest fear is?”

Damn. He completely stumped you.

This wasn’t a question you’d ever been asked before, let alone asked yourself, and it left you contemplating for several minutes. Josh waited patiently behind the camera for your response as the wind whistled around you.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I guess it would be the fear of not living up to my own expectations. I’m really hard on myself when it comes to my art, and I always find myself not quite satisfied with what I create, no matter how good everyone around me says it is. I don’t know I’m just… I’m afraid that I’m going to die without having created one piece that I’m actually proud of. Something that I really love.”

Josh was silent, now looking directly at you rather than through the lens. His stare was intense, and you found yourself growing embarrassed.

“Was that… too deep?”

After several more moments, his smile appeared, “no. It was perfect.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You were hesitant about bringing Josh back to your apartment. Not because he was a stranger, you were beyond that now, but because of the fact that your apartment also doubled as your art studio, and its conditions were shameful.

But Josh insisted that it was necessary to the plot.

“It gives a raw look into your creative processes,” he explained.

Your living room was scattered with easels supporting different sized uncompleted pieces. There was a shelf that lined the entire wall, filled top to bottom with various paint colors and brushes. You once had a very organized system for it, but over time it had become a cluttered mess that you had yet to fix. The tarp on the floor did little to stop the paint stains that marked the scuffed hardwood. You tried not to think about it, but if you wanted your security deposit back come move out day, you’d have to spend a full day on your hands and knees scrubbing those floors clean.

What would’ve been your dining room was now your living area. A small couch, a coffee table, and a projector screen against the wall. But even your coffee table was littered with sketch pads and pencils. The art was never really contained to one spot.

Josh spent time filming various angles in the studio area as you prepared a pot of tea.

“So, what’s next?” You questioned as the two of you plopped down on the sofa.

He took a sip from his mug and savored the taste.

“Well, next I want to get some footage of you while you’re in the process of creating,” he lowered his mug to reveal a mischievous upturn of his lips, “which means you’ll have to hang out with me again. Can you stomach that?”

You grimaced, “I think I can manage.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A cup of tea turned into a glass of wine as Josh rummaged through your record collection, with childlike excitement.

You found yourself not wanting to take your eyes off of him, caught up in the commentary he made on every album as he flipped past them.

He pulled one from the stack, “no way you’re a fan of Fleet Foxes, too?”

You grinned around the brim of your wine glass as you leaned on the kitchen counter, “yeah, they’re great.”

He was careful as he retrieved the record from it’s sleeve and placed it on the turntable, and the two of you retreated back to the couch as the music began to fill the room.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Several more albums were spun, and millions of words were shared between you and Josh before either of you even thought to check the time.

“Holy shit, it's almost 2 am,” he noted as he glanced at his phone. You were curled up in your corner of the couch, but upon his revelation, you stretched your limbs out and jeweled loudly, “Christ, no wonder why I’m so tired.”

Josh stood from the couch with a stretch of his own, “yeah, I should probably get going.”

You don’t know why, but his words made you a little sad. Apparently, you didn’t really want him to go. The fact that he prevented you from getting any homework done didn’t bother you any, you just enjoyed his presence.

He slung his bag over his shoulder then handed you his phone, “you can uh, give me your number if you want, so we can figure out a good time to meet up again. I promise to only use it for film-related purposes.”

You grinned playfully at him as you finished entering in your number, handing his phone back to him, “I don’t think I’d mind if you used it for non film-related purposes.”

He smirked, only this one was a lot less confident than the others.

“Noted.”

You managed to peel yourself from the couch to walk him to the door, and as he stepped into the damp night, “until we meet again, my muse.”

His words made you blush, and his eyes stayed fixed on you as he made his way carefully down the steps.

“Goodnight, Josh.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

#greta van fleet #gvf #daniel wagner #greta van fleet smut #greta van fic #greta van smut #jake gvf #danny gvf #gvf fic #josh gvf #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic

229 notes · View notes

finniestoncrane · 4 months

Text

12 Days of Kinkmas • Day 3: Roleplay - General!Bane x GN!Reader request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist • dividers minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: roleplay, shy bane, hesitation, fluff but suggestive

You sat on the edge of the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, pyjama top and shorts on to fit your role as you waited for Bane's entrance. It had taken him a while to get ready, and he'd kept shouting through to question the various items of clothing. Eventually, he decided to forego the boots and pants and belt, and he felt silly with the fake beard, so you told him to put on the jacket and hat and take a deep breath. He was trying so hard, and it was so sweet that he was willing to come so far out of his comfort zone for you, the least you could offer was some leniency to help him along.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way down the hall, and you held your breath in anticipation as he slowly opened the living room door. Before stepping in, he coughed to get your attention and then quietly mumbled.

"Is it... uh... I can come in now, si?"

"Yes, yes, come in!"

He was wearing his usual cargo pants, tucked into his huge combat boots. But on his head, he had squeezed on the Santa hat, and he wore the red coat with white trim loose and open over his black vest top.

"Oh! Santa! I'm so glad I managed to stay up to catch you!"

His cheeks were red immediately, mouth open as he searched for his next words, but struggled to find the bravery to say them.

"I... uh..."

"Why don't you come and take a seat, I can feed you a little cookie. I made them myself."

You winked, patting the sofa and welcoming him to sit down beside you. He took you up on the offer, sitting down silently, hands clasped together and eyes avoiding you completely. Trying to help move things forward, you moved your body closer to him, eventually climbing up onto his thick thighs and settling into his lap, your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"I just wanted to let you know, Santa, that I've been very good this year. So I think I deserve whatever you've got for me in that big, stuffed sack of yours."

He gulped, Adam's apple bobbing, the veins on his thick neck tensing with the rest of his body. For all that he was a hulking mass of muscles, someone no one would dare cross if they knew any better, someone who commanded attention when he entered a room through his physical presence alone before you even got to his reputation, Bane was still painfully shy and reserved. Whenever emotions, or passion, or any level of vulnerability were involved, he became closed off. You'd hoped that pretending to be someone else might offer him a level of insular protection, but he seemed just as nervous. Deciding not to let him struggle any more, you took the hat from his head and placed it on your own, leaning in to kiss his cheek softly. You'd done this the wrong way around.

"Actually, I bet I have something for you, Bane. Since you been such a good boy."

"I have?"

You nodded, leaning in for another kiss, this time met by his lips as he pressed them on to yours. His hand slid along your thigh, hooking under it as he stood up, carrying you with him.

"I am not hurting you, right?"

You giggled, staring into his eyes and smiling.

"Not at all, but it wouldn't be the worst thing if you did."

He grinned back, ear to ear, still knowing he'd have to hold back a little out of fear of crushing you, but giddy about not having to be quite as aware of himself.

#finnie writes #bane #bane headcanon #bane x reader #eduardo dorrance #batman bane

44 notes · View notes

ivorysyrniki · 10 months

Text

chapter two: in the flesh (venti)

pairing: venti/reader

title: Everything I Know About Love

summary: Barbatos, or Venti, manages to lure you with the promise of Dandelion Wine.

tags: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, love confessions

notes: biweekly updates. also posted on ao3. fridays.

parts: chapter one - chapter three

He was indeed the Anemo Archon. How can it not be? It seems strange to think otherwise—for the aura he exudes only gives holiness, divinity, and a sense of peace from the lyre that he strums and the voice he uses to present himself. The form that he takes now is enchanting, enough to tie you down—indeed enough to make you kneel.

“My Lord… Lord Barbatos,” you recite, a tremble in your voice as you do. “I am deeply honoured to be in your presence. I apologize if I may not be in the best condition to be of service to you, but I will try my utmost to give you my all—”

“W.. wait! Hold on!” he ceases floating and comes to kneel in front of you, trying to pry your head from the soil, but eventually gives up when you do not budge. “I didn’t come to you for you to worship me. I came to you for friendship!”

“Friendship?” you snap your head towards him, faltering in the respectful exterior you don. “What?

You look at his face, eager for explanations. He bends down to look at you with a closed-eye grin, the ends of his mouth stretching towards his ears. You begin to examine his features. You notice the faint teal colours on the ends of his braids. His form resembles a boy, with a brown corset, a green cape, a white shirt, and some other garments finally accessorized with an Anemo vision. You assume that it must be a fake. Archons do not need primitive things like visions.

‘But friendship… why?’ you muster all the courage to look at his eyes directly, drowning in those green eyes that seem to pull you towards him, engulfing your person with images of tall standing boulders amidst blue-green waters, or wind-washed mountains growing fields of white pristine Cecilias. It brings you comfort, almost as if you can breathe again. But with utter confusion about his objective in meeting you, you scoot away from him. His statement truly baffles you. Still, on your knees, you level yourself with his kneeling figure.

“I think it is quite easy to understand, you see,” he puts down his lyre on the ground. “I’m awfully curious about the rest of the world now that I have finished guiding my children and fashioning the lands for them. Thus my soul yearns to see the world!”

‘Do archons even have souls? Well, I suppose they do…’ you look at him quizically, your eyebrows furrowing. You answer, “May I ask, why me, specifically?”

An archon out of nowhere says he wants to be friends, and he wants you to be his travel guide. An archon! Archons usually keep to themselves, tending to their nations!

Before he could answer, you add, “With all due respect, Anemo Archon of the Seven, I am under no obligation to obey your… er… commands. My form is weary from the war, and I need ample slumber to consider myself of use again to any god, much less an archon.”

“Awww, really?” he pouts, lips caressing the skin above. Suddenly he stares at you, with a mischievous smirk, “What if you do it for something in return?”

Perhaps Rex Lapis is right. The God of Freedom does have a penchant for mischief. You reply, all too aware of the rising moon in the sky and how you would soon need to find a place to sleep, “May we talk about this in another place? I am afraid that it is getting dark. I need some place to rest. I would rather not deal with the remains of dead gods here in the Guili plains.”

“All right then, as you wish! I also believe we shouldn’t impede the work of a certain someone!” he says in that telltale sing-song voice, before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hold on to me, fair Adeptus.”

‘How does he know?’

You do as you are told, placing both hands on his shoulders, as this is your best guess of what he means. He whispers, “Good, now close your eyes.”

You close them. Suddenly your frame is awash with the wind, your ears blocked by the rush of wind hitting you gently yet loudly. You still close your eyes firmly, a warm feeling in your core—singing that you should trust him and everything will be all right, that there is no such thing as anguish nor pain in this world. A weightless sensation spreads throughout your body, and you fight the urge to scream. Then, you lose the feeling of the grass that digs through your skin. You feel nothing, and then you feel the grass again.

“Open your eyes,” he whispers. If you were a human, you would not be able to hear his voice.

You open your eyes to the new environment that seems to manifest itself around you as the dark spots that obstruct your vision clear. You look away from the archon, turning your attention to the place around you. Ah, it seems you are under a great oak tree, different from the likes you have seen. It bathes in the everlasting winds that dwell in here, and when you listen to the tree—you hear the gentle notes of a lyre silently being plucked. A Statue of the Seven keeps the tree company. True to this archon’s claims, the Statue of the Seven now erects itself proudly, bearing the face and form of its nation’s ruler.

Mondstadt is beautiful. The winds suit your aching soul. Its beauty attests to the care of its archon.

Speaking of him, he tries to get your attention by waving his hands around, “Hey! Give me some attention!”

You turn your attention to him, breathing in the fresh air. The fresh air did not seem to exist in the plains you were in less than five minutes ago.

“I want a travelling companion, and I think you would be the perfect person for that role! Buuuut! You do not want to do it, and that is understandable. Who would willingly go with someone they just met, even if that person is an archon? So… what if we get to know each other first, huh?” he blurts out in a single breath, astonishing you.

He continues, “My name is Barbatos, but I go by Venti as I roam the world under his guise. A travelling bard!” And as if evidence to his claims, he strums his lyre.

After a while, you speak, “We do not have to know each other, Lord Barbatos. It is best that you only know me as an Adeptus, which I do not know where you procured such information—and that I only know you as the God of Freedom, the Anemo Archon of the Seven. Anyway, such formalities like these are unimportant given I have to refuse your request.”

He gapes, “But! But! Refusing?!”

He is not surprised by your refusal but is rather confused why you would refuse such a great request. In truth, you have surprised yourself too. Such an endeavour of travelling with one of the Seven is already a great honour, to human or illuminated beast or youkai, or really—any race, but you steadfastly refuse it just like that, without contemplation! What has become of me, you think solemnly. You were sure you had immense respect for Gods, especially those stronger than you and that has naturally extended to the newly seated Archons, but now… you are not so sure.

Is it because of what the war did to you? Fed you cold apathy and a worn down body—a body you are sure you drag as you go about your days. It left you with such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You want to get out of your skin.

“Yes. I refuse,” you stand up from your kneeling position and clutch your bag close to your chest, before turning your back on him and adding, “I do not wish to meddle any more in the mortal world, or any of the worlds Teyvat boasts, I wish to rest. I wish to sleep. And I wish to taste some Dandelion Wine before I get on with it.”

“How on earth have you not tasted Dandelion Wine!” he gasps, placing a hand over his mouth as if this fact was the most unbelievable one he has heard in his long life. “Well fear not, I will take you to the best tavern in all of Mondstadt!”

You whirl around, turning to face him once again. You raise an eyebrow at his claims. Of course, this is his nation. He knows where everything is.

“On one condition,” he laughs, raising a finger. “You must promise me that you will think about my request!”

Oh. Right.

It seems you have no choice. You give in.

“Fine.”

But the bard stops, almost as if he is realizing something. He looks at you again, this time with a sheepish smile, “Buuuut... I think I may not be allowed in the city…”

“What?!”

#eikal-venti #everythingiknowaboutloveventi #genshinimpact #genshin imagines #genshin venti #venti #genshin impact #fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #a03 #series #slowburn #eventual smut #venti x reader #reader #self insert #gender neutral #gender neutral mc #venti/reader

57 notes · View notes

dalgursbate · 3 months

Text

Dame Aylin's Home for Wayward Girls (5/?)

Summary: Isobel swears she didn’t mean to start a commune. She’s not so sure about Aylin, though. Or, how a celestial and her reanimated girlfriend help the heroes of Baldur’s Gate process their trauma.

Rating: E WC: 13,812 Pairing: F/F, Isobel/Aylin/Shadowheart

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

Isobel wakes slowly, eyes blinking blearily against the darkness. She has no idea what time it is, and the windowless room they are in defies any attempt to judge the hour by the light. Isobel reaches within herself to probe at her connection with Selûne, plucking at it like a lyre string to see how it resonates; she always feels the Moonmaiden more when it is night.

She finds that Selûne’s presence is waning, but strong still; Isobel presumes that it must be approaching twilight. She awoke early, then.

As she comes more fully to consciousness, Isobel takes stock of her surroundings (thank the Gods for darkvision): she is lying on her side, body curled like a crescent moon to face the center of the bed. Her arms encircle someone, her leg sandwiched between theirs and their silver-haired head pressed against Isobel’s collar. At first, Isobel’s sleep-addled brain assumes this person is Aylin, but as her faculties return to her she realizes that it is not.

Right, Shadowheart stayed with them last night. Isobel swallows roughly at the thought of it.

She looks past Shadowheart’s sleeping form and spies Aylin wrapped around the other woman, arms holding her around the middle. Her body is in the same crescent shape as Isobel, waxing to Isobel’s waning. Shadowheart fits neatly in the space created by Aylin, back pressed against her chest. Aylin’s chin is tucked over Shadowheart’s head, her face only half a foot away from Isobel’s.

Isobel removes her hand from Shadowheart’s hip to jostle Aylin’s arm, hoping to wake her. She watches as Aylin’s eyes open, becoming conscious and alert in only an instant. Isobel smiles at her, finding the way Aylin springs so quickly to wakefulness charming. Another perk of being a celestial, she supposes.

Upon seeing her lover, Aylin closes the distance between them to press a kiss to Isobel’s lips, the same as she does every morning. It is not chaste, because Aylin rarely is. Rather, it is something hot and desperate, like alchemist's fire before it erupts. Isobel longs to put her hand to Aylin’s jaw, to deepen the kiss, but they can't really touch each other with Shadowheart between them as she is. Besides, the more rational part of Isobel reasons, it would be untoward to get lost in passion when there is a person sleeping so near to them. Isobel pulls back from the kiss and treasures the expression on Aylin’s face as her lover attempts to chase her lips. Isobel longs to greet the morning as they usually do, by pouncing on Aylin and kissing her utterly senseless. Amongst other things.

Usually, though, there is not a disgruntled cleric in between them.

“Shhh…M’sleeping,” Shadowheart whines, barely intelligible as it is muttered against Isobel’s shirt. She nuzzles deeper into Isobel's neck, which does nothing to quell her desire. “Kiss later.”

Isobel had not realized she was awake, the steady rise and fall of Shadowheart’s breathing suggesting unconsciousness. Isobel hopes, then, that her stillness indicates comfort. She feels the fingers pressed against her chest curl reflexively and grab two loose fistfuls of the fabric there.

“Are you not the one who wandered into our bed, little cleric?” Aylin says in an amused half-whisper (and what a miracle it is she managed even that, Isobel thinks). “Yet you believe it is your right to tell us when to kiss.”

Shadowheart pulls back from Isobel’s chest enough that she can level Aylin with her most put-upon expression. Her hands still hold onto the fabric of Isobel’s shirt.

“I did not wander into your bed like some stray cat, Aylin. I am an invited guest,” she huffs, voice full of faux affront. Isobel thinks it is possibly the first time that Shadowheart hasn’t referred to Aylin by her title, and the sudden informality warms her. “And as your guest I believe I am entitled to your courtesy.” Shadowheart does not whisper her response the way Aylin tried to, yet to Isobel’s delight she thinks that Aylin was still louder.

“Most definitely, and I will dutifully show you every courtesy under the moon and stars,” Aylin says, and as it becomes clear that they are all quite awake she does not bother to lower her speaking voice, “except the courtesy of deciding when I am allowed to kiss.”

“What graciousness,” Shadowheart says sardonically. She rolls over onto her back between Aylin and Isobel, looking up between the two of them in turn. One of her hands leaves Isobel’s shirt, but the other continues to grasp the fabric. “So does that mean you’ll grant me the courtesy of deciding who you kiss?” She smiles coyly then, and something wicked and electric alights in Isobel.

“I will certainly take your suggestions under advisement,” Aylin replies, and she is staring with eyes half-lidded at Shadowheart’s face. No, Isobel corrects mentally, at Shadowheart’s mouth.

Shadowheart says nothing in response, but leans up to connect her lips to Aylin’s. Aylin snakes a hand to cradle the other woman’s head and pulls her in closer, deeper, almost as though she hopes to consume her. Shadowheart sighs into the kiss, and the sight of the two of them makes Isobel shiver. She feels feverish, painfully aware of the heat that has gathered to her cheeks and even more painfully aware of where it has gathered elsewhere.

The two of them kiss hungrily, greedily, like it is the last kiss either of them will ever have. Isobel intends to make sure that it isn't.

Shadowheart eventually pulls away from Aylin, obviously in need of air. The breath she exhales comes out in a shudder, and Isobel loves how red and plump her lips already look. How her silver hair is in disarray, loose from its usual braid and cascading down her shoulders all tousled and pretty. How she already looks so debauched when they have hardly even touched her.

Then, Shadowheart turns to Isobel and uses the hand fisted in her shirt to pull her closer. Isobel follows readily, and soon their lips meet in a frenzy. Her tongue entwines with Shadowheart’s, and her mouth is flooded with the taste of this woman, unfamiliar but intoxicating. Isobel has read many a novel where the author describes the lovers’ tongues moving in a graceful dance. She thinks this more closely resembles a tavern brawl with the needy, messy way Shadowheart explores Isobel’s mouth. Dancing is overrated anyway, Isobel thinks, as Shadowheart’s kiss sends fire up her spine, into her stomach, and down further to the core of her.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” Shadowheart whispers against Isobel’s lips, sounding awe-struck. Isobel did not need Shadowheart to tell her this; she can feel how it is pounding an angry rhythm against her ribcage. “Is this the effect I have on you?”

“Yes,” Isobel replies, voice almost a hiss with how quickly the answer escapes her lips. She wants to be embarrassed at how urgently she craves Shadowheart, but it is hard to be when the cleric is right there, kissing her as though Isobel’s lips can offer her salvation.

Shadowheart releases Isobel’s shirt and uses that hand to drag her fingers up the underside of Isobel’s breast. Isobel gasps against Shadowheart’s mouth, and Shadowheart uses the opportunity to kiss her even deeper. Isobel bites on Shadowheart’s bottom lip in retaliation and is rewarded with a delicious noise for it. She pulls back just slightly, enough to inhale, and she adores the way Shadowheart’s breathless panting mixes with her own in the space between them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Aylin begin to shift, and soon Shadowheart is pulled into Aylin’s lap. It reminds Isobel of how she sat with Shadowheart when they dyed her hair, but infinitely more intimate.

Aylin begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to Shadowheart’s neck, who instinctively tilts her head to grant better access to the skin there. Isobel can see her smile as Aylin drags one hand over the flat plane of Shadowheart’s stomach and up to cup her breast. She squeezes gently, rubbing her thumb over Shadowheart’s nipple through her shirt. Shadowheart squirms from where she is seated atop Aylin, making more noises that burn up Isobel’s insides.

“My darling,” Aylin says, and Isobel takes a moment to realize that she is speaking to Shadowheart. Isobel is flooded with a wave of affection at the pet name. “Pray tell what you would like us to do for you.” The hand that is not teasing Shadowheart’s breast drags down her side until it reaches her hip, fingers kneading the skin there.

“Touch me,” Shadowheart gasps. “Please.”

The way Shadowheart begs is divine, Isobel thinks. Looking at her lovers intertwined makes the need building inside Isobel grow exponentially; she fears that if Shadowheart does not get naked immediately, she might combust.

Thankfully, Aylin seems to be on the same page. She drags her hands up and under Shadowheart's shirt to pull it off of her, and Shadowheart cooperates hastily to finish the effort. Soon, the garment is thrown somewhere in the dark room, to be worried about later. Her pants are a little more challenging, and Isobel moves quickly to help Shadowheart rid herself of them. Aylin seems reluctant to allow Shadowheart to leave her lap, but evidently realizes that it is in service of a greater good. Soon, Shadowheart’s pants join her top on the floor, lost to the ether for all any of them cares. Her smallclothes, too, are quickly tossed into the abyss and forgotten, and Shadowheart sits on Aylin’s lap gloriously naked.

By Selûne, Isobel cannot imagine how Shadowheart ever served the Goddess of Darkness when seeing her like this, exposed and wanton, feels so perfectly holy to her.

Aylin resumes kissing her neck, hands roaming Shadowheart’s body and mapping out the feel of her skin. Isobel knows she is testing to see which parts of Shadowheart are most sensitive, where best to kiss and caress and bite and scratch. Aylin is deeply thorough as a lover, Isobel knows, and watching Shadowheart experience that for the first time is heady and exhilarating. Shadowheart cries out at Aylin’s touch, back arched and head thrown back to rest on Aylin’s shoulder. She seems to be falling to pieces already, before Aylin’s clever fingers have even begun to play with her sex.

It is obvious, too, that Shadowheart is growing desperate with desire. Isobel watches the way she whimpers and whines every time Aylin brushes her fingers up her inner thigh before dragging them back down, close to where Shadowheart wants her but never close enough. Shadowheart spreads her legs wide, hooks them over Aylin’s thighs, opening herself and writhing as Aylin once again teases her with her fingers.

Isobel sees the opportunity and refuses to let it pass her, crawling toward the two of them and bowing down to breathe hotly over Shadowheart’s already-dripping cunt. Shadowheart keens, bucking her hips toward Isobel’s face.

“Please,” Shadowheart begs again, and Isobel would need to be much crueler than she is to deny such a request. She licks from the hot, wet core of Shadowheart up to circle her clit with her tongue, relishing the way Shadowheart nearly shrieks at the contact. She relishes, too, the exquisite taste of her, voracious in the manner that she drinks Shadowheart in. She could get addicted to that taste, she thinks. Perhaps she already is.

She looks up to see Shadowheart with her eyes closed in ecstasy, a look of intense concentration on her face, head thrown back and left hand fisted in Aylin’s hair as Aylin bites and kisses her neck. Shadowheart’s other hand is braced on Aylin’s thigh as she begins to grind into Isobel’s tongue. Isobel wants to paint this picture in her mind, needs to see it every time she closes her eyes.

“By the nine Hells,” Shadowheart swears, “do not stop.”

So Isobel does not, electing instead to suck Shadowheart’s clit into her mouth, savoring the way Shadowheart cries and moans at the touch of her tongue.

It must be overwhelming, Isobel imagines, with the combination of Aylin’s wandering, mischievous hands and the way Isobel roughly grips her thighs to spread her open. With Aylin’s mouth at her neck and Isobel’s tongue buried in her like she’s trying to drown in Shadowheart’s cunt. Shadowheart can do nothing but try to arch into the contact, try to get more of it, mouth dropped open as she alternates between cursing and saying their names.

“Oh, Gods, Aylin, Isobel,” Shadowheart pants as her release finds her, shivering as it rolls through her body. Isobel and Aylin do not stop, fucking her through her climax until she begins to twitch from the overstimulation. They still their assault on her then, and Aylin pets Shadowheart’s hair as the other woman comes down and begins to return to her senses. Her body is loose, practically boneless, supported as it is by Aylin’s chest.

Aylin gently maneuvers her to the head of the bed, and Isobel places some pillows behind her back. Isobel kisses her temple once, sweetly.

“You are rather precious, you know,” Isobel whispers in Shadowheart’s ear, and she feels the other woman whimper in response.

Isobel turns back to Aylin, who is smiling serenely at her and Shadowheart. Isobel wonders whether she’s thinking the same thing Isobel thought earlier, about never wanting to lose the image of this experience. She will ask later, but for now there is an imperative to tear her clothes off hurriedly. She is pleased to watch as Aylin does the same, and even more pleased as Aylin kneels naked on the bed before her. Isobel gives herself a moment to take in the sight of her lover, appreciating how strong and vital Aylin looks. She feels the way Shadowheart's eyes track their movements, greedily raking over both of their naked forms.

“Lover, I have great need to cum all over your face,” Isobel says plainly, walking on her knees over to Aylin and gently pushing her down on the bed. Aylin offers no resistance, happy to be manhandled by Isobel. Shadowheart makes a small noise at them then, and Isobel turns her head to shoot a toothy grin at the cleric.

“You once said you were more envious of our love than our passion,” Isobel says. “Let me show you how wrong you were then.” She proceeds to climb on top of Aylin, straddling her face so that Isobel is facing the gorgeous, lithe expanse of Aylin's body. Aylin’s tongue greets her readily, and she sighs at the familiar decadence of it.

For a moment she simply enjoys as Aylin works her over with her tongue, gasping and moaning at the expert dexterity of Aylin's movements. But she cannot sit still for long before she is leaning down, bracing her weight on her forearms on either side of Aylin's hips.

She can still taste Shadowheart, rich and heady, on her tongue, and she moans at the way it mingles with the taste of Aylin as she begins eating her out. Isobel knows better than anyone that Aylin prefers it rough, and so she devours her lover's cunt like a starving gnoll at a butchery. Before too long, both Aylin and Isobel are crying out wantonly against each other's flesh.

Then, Shadowheart's own moans join into the chorus, and Isobel pauses briefly in her work to spare a glance at the cleric. She bites her lip at the sight that greets her, Shadowheart's eyes half open and hazy, staring intently at the two women in front of her, her fingers rubbing and pinching her own clit.

It is, Isobel thinks, unbelievably hot.

It does not take much for Aylin to unravel Isobel at the best of times, and with Shadowheart's heavy gaze hungrily taking them in, it is a matter of moments before she is riding her own release out on Aylin's face. Through it, she does not stop in her efforts on Aylin's clit, savoring the complex, godly flavor of her like one might a glass of smoky whiskey. Aylin follows her soon after, bucking up into her face while her hands grip in Isobel's hair and hold her exactly where she wants her.

A few moments later, as Aylin and Isobel shudder and twitch against each others’ mouths, Isobel hears Shadowheart cum again to her own fingers. She looks up to watch it happen, to drink in the rapturous expression on Shadowheart's face as they lock eyes.

Moments later, while they all pant in the afterglow, Isobel grins at Aylin and Shadowheart.

“Praise be to Selûne that we still have an hour before sunrise,” she says, and crawls over to where Shadowheart sits against the headrest to kiss her again.

#bg3 #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 aylin #bg3 isobel #moon lesbians #moonmaidens #isobel/dame aylin #isobel/nightsong #my fic

14 notes · View notes

tiresomeimagination · 2 years

Text

My last imagine was more focused on being friends with Seven as you would in any route except his own, where you're somewhat close but nowhere near as much as in his route.

Well I just finished replaying Seven's route for the first time in years and I also finally bit the bullet and spent my hourglasses on finishing the Secret Ending (I'll have enough for Another Story someday TvT), so I was thinking of doing a follow-up to my last imagine... this time being close enough to see Saeyoung a bit more genuinely ^^! I guess I'd say this is the "Seven's route Good End + Secret Ending" timeline.

So...

Imagine playing Animal Crossing with Saeyoung (and Saeran!)

It had been a long time since the two of you had played any video games together. With everything that's happened, life had just been too hectic for that kind of thing. But now that things were starting to settle down, you guys have the time to indulge in simple pleasures again.

You suggested that Saeyoung try showing Animal Crossing to Saeran, thinking the cozy slow pace game would be perfect for the brothers to bond over. Saeyoung was totally on board with anything to try connecting with his twin, so he grabbed it right away.

Saeyoung started a fresh island and let Saeran be the Resident Representative. The two of them share the town, but he lets Saeran make most of the overall island layout decisions.

The simple repetitive daily tasks and soothing atmosphere is rather therapeutic for Saeran, and once he got the hang of using a gaming system, he took to it pretty quickly. He tolerates Saeyoung's presence on the island but tries to keep some distance. This doesn't always work, since Saeyoung still tries to engage with whatever Saeran's current project is.

"...Hey, get your weird cat shrine away from my hybrid garden... it's ruining the ambiance..."

"Eh? But Saeran, those are the flower guardians! What will become of the poor flowers when there's no one to protect them from evil?"

"Cats don't protect flowers, idiot. Get rid of it."

"...okay;;"

Saeyoung does still like to dive into the game's code and find ways to break the game's boundaries, but he does it in a way that's not obtrusive to Saeran's town decorating.

Saeyoung's decorating in general, while it can still be unconventional and a bit silly, is less over the top than it used to be. Because of the emotional walls he used for the longest time, Saeyoung used to rely heavily on "fishing" for reactions in order to connect with others. Rather than being able to converse on a deeper level, he would exaggerate behavior and push buttons to get reactions, either positive or negative.

Thanks to you, Saeyoung now feels comfortable connecting with others on a deeper emotional level. Don't get me wrong, he still likes to play, still enjoys the occasional prank, and still loves the look on your face when he manages to catch you off guard. But now he doesn't feel like those have to define the majority of his interactions. This means you now get to see some of his more earnest attempts at decorating! …Just don't let your guard down too much. That's when he strikes.

"Wow, Saeyoung, I'm impressed. This is actually a pretty good bedroom design."

"lololol why do you sound so surprised?"

"...do I have to say it? ;;;"

"><; okay okay. Now, if you like this one, wait until you see the basement!"

"Yeah, let's go! I really like what you've done with the place so far. It's actually pretty practical and-.....ah...Saeyoung...?"

"Yeeesss? ^^"

"...Why do you have an... Elizabeth 3rd altar in your basement? Wow...that's...very detailed."

"Jumin said I should inject more culture and class into my decor tastes lolol do you like it?"

"....Hah...Yeah."

"Hooray!!"

If either you or Saeran have a particular villager that you really want, Saeyoung will get them from the online “villager black market” for you. He'll do his best to get you two whatever you want in general, honestly. Even if it's rare. If he can't get it on his own he'll just cheat the system. He has no problem breaking the rules to put smiles on the faces of the two most important people in his life.

Saeran actually plays more often than Saeyoung does, and he may invite you over if the two of you are close enough. He's really good at breeding hybrids, and you end up leaving with one of your favorite kind of hybrid as a gift.

Please volunteer to play with both boys, not just one. They both love it, and it slowly becomes something special that the three of you share. Things have changed a lot, but times like these remind you what a wonderful little family you've been welcomed into.

109 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Censured Ch 6

Warnings: Language, SMUT.

It ended up taking Sonny you and literally the entire night to work the case, nearing 11:00 am by the time the perp lawyered up. His lawyer was spending most of the day doing arraignments so it would be a while before you’d be able to talk to him again. Benson realized she probably should’ve called a different pair in after the events the previous day, but knew you were a better match for the vic than Rollins. Taking in your haggard appearances, she sent the two of you off to the bunk room to get some rest before the lawyer showed up.

In a synchronized motion the two of you ditched your blazers, and other uncomfortable items of clothing onto the cot by the door, moving deeper into the room in silence. Dropping down onto separate cots with matching heaving sighs. Your mind finally free to rest you couldn’t help but find it drifting back to the previous night, the way your lips moved against Casey’s with such ease and grace, the spark moving into a flame within you. Despite the level of exhaustion creeping through your bones, your brain simply didn’t want to shut off, huffing as you tossed and turned for a few minutes. You heard Carisi’s bunk creak before you felt his presence standing in front of yours,

“Shove over.” He muttered, you cracked open an eye, peering up at him.

“What?”

“I know you sleep better when there’s someone else with you, now shove over.” You shifted in the bed, your back nearly hitting the wall as he crawled in, wrapping around you, a near impossible feat with his lanky limbs and the tiny bed. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck, arms pulling you against the warmth of his body. Sonny was right after all, you did sleep WAY better when you got cuddles. As you felt his body finally relax against yours, you realized this was partially also for him, he needed the comfort and stability after nearly getting shot the day before. After a moment you quietly murmured into the room,

“…She kissed me…” Carisi cracked an eye open at that, smirking down at you,

“Told ya…future wife.” You rolled your eyes, not having enough space to smack him before snuggling back into his embrace.

Part of you felt like you’d been asleep for hours, part of you felt like you’d merely blinked (in reality it had been almost four hours). You and Carisi were jolted awake by the bed shaking and a very disappointed:

“Ahem….” Coming from Benson as she stood over the two of you, when your brains came out of their fog you attempted to scramble apart, Carisi nearly falling off the tiny bed in the process. “Perp’s in interrogation two..” Her brow was cocked, lips in a thin line understandably so, Carisi was so flushed he could barely look at her as you both quickly moved out of the room.

***

All in all it took another four hours of grilling, questioning, arguing with Greylek and making deals before the perp was shuttled off to the tombs to await arraignment. It took another hour of finishing paper work before Olivia finally shooed the two of you off for the night (she originally was going to let you finish it the following day but after the bunk room shenanigans she wasn’t as forgiving). You made sure to give Sonny an extra tight hug as you left the precinct, telling him to call you if he needed anything. He assured you he was fine and besides, you had a girl to go catch.

The apartment was quiet when you got home, but Casey’s door was slightly ajar and her light was still on. You traipsed down the hall to your own room, not bothering to shut the door or turn on a light as you dropped down onto your bed, legs hanging off the edge, arms thrown up above your head on the mattress. You weren’t surprised when you heard Casey’s feet on the hardwood, she stopped at the edge of your bed,

“You manage to get any sleep?” You mirrored her smile as you tugged her down to sitting.

“Yeah…took a nap with Carisi.

“With Carisi?” You nodded, “Hard to imagine he can even fit in one of those cots alone, much less with another person.” You laughed,

“Lots of cuddles. I don’t think Benson was too pleased when she came to wake us up.” Casey nearly snorted at that, she could imagine that Olivia definitely thought something was going on there, and definitely wouldn’t be pleased. “I was distracted, Sonny knows I sleep better with snuggles.”

“Distracted? Bad case?” You rolled your head over to gain her eyes again,

“No…couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss…” She grinned at you, leaning closer to your body

“You want a replay of it?”

“You know I do…”

Her lips met yours with a gentle ease, hand that wasn’t supporting her body cupping your cheek. You tugged her to you, shoving yourself up so you were both fully on the bed as your hand curled into her hair. The kiss had more fire behind it that the previous night, the hesitancy from Casey evaporated, her tongue delving into your mouth, exploring with ease. Her hands were quick to move against the hem of your shirt, delicately starting to push it up, you broke free from her lips, trailing kisses down her neck, nipping softly at her pulse point, eliciting a soft whisper of a moan from her lips. One of your hands found her hip, tracing the exposed skin from her pyjama shirt riding up, sneaking its way under the fabric, thumb stroking across her ribs. The other moved up to her face, gently pulling it from where she’d buried into your neck to softly look her right in the eyes,

“You sure about this?” Your voice was light, but Casey could feel the lust dripping from it, she nodded, “Case, I need to hear you…”

“Yes…” She placed a feverish kiss against your lips before pulling back, you took in her blown pupils, kiss swollen lips, “But I’ve never…with a woman before.” You smiled, kissing the tip of her nose,

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to understand? And we can stop at ANY time, if something’s making you uncomfortable, just please, say so, and we stop.”

“You sound like a sex crimes cop.” You scoffed at that,

“I don’t wanna have to arrest myself tomorrow…I also don’t want things to be weird…” Both were valid reasons, you loved the brief time you’d had Casey in your life and you didn’t want her to disappear early because she felt awkward at the whole situation.

“They weren’t weird after the kiss..” She fought back with, you playfully rolled your eyes, pulling her back to your mouth. Casey lips met yours with a carnal need, biting at your lower lip as she tugged your shirt up, only breaking apart long enough to toss it to the floor, hands and lips moving to explore the revealed skin. Her fingers delicately groped at your lace covered chest, lips smirking against your neck as you gasped, Straddling you, she was quick to tear off her pyjama shirt, bare beneath it, you took the time advantage to flip her over, nibbling your way across her collarbone as you cautiously brought a hand up, groping her chest.

When she gasped out your name you knew you were in the clear, tracing her nipple with your thumb, pulling it to a pinch gently between your fingers. Your lips moved swiftly across her flushed skin, her back arched off the bed when your tongue darted out, swirling around the other nipple. You let your hand trail down her body, feather light touches driving her absolutely wild while your mouth slowly continued its torturous assault on her peaking chest. Teasingly you played with the waist band of her shorts, fingers barely darting underneath it, Casey let out a moan as you let out a cool puff of air against her nipple, hips rutting off the bed begging for any kind of friction. You chuckled lightly at that, moving over to the other nipple while your hand slipped into her shorts. You continued to move slowly, partially to tease the fuck out of her, partially to give her time to stop you if needed, fingers daintily tracing patterns up and down her inner thighs. She practically whimpered by the time you cupped her, groaning around her breast at the wetness seeping out of her. The tips of your fingers traced through her entrance, gathering her juices before rolling slow circles on her clit,

“Fuck baby…” The moan left Casey’s lips breathlessly, her hand buried in the roots of your hair. You pulled lightly on her chest with your teeth, letting it go with a pop before sucking it back into your mouth again as a soft finger slipped into her heat. She gasped, feeling the digit slowly pumped inside of her, twirling against her constricting walls with so much expertise. The air in the room was frenzied, Casey’s skin was on fucking fire, already glistening in a sheen of light sweat at the fact that you could make her feel this good with one fucking finger.

Her hips shot up as you pumped a second one in, curling as they hit the spongey spot perfectly, you caught her gasps with your lips, slipping your tongue into hers, tasting the minty-ness of her toothpaste. Casey’s arms wrapped tightly around you, wanting to be able to really feel you against her heated skin. You continued to thrust your fingers in and out, hitting her g-spot at random intervals, when you felt her body nearly tremor beneath you, your thumb returned to her clit, pressing down harder as you rolled it in time with your fingers. Her head flew back into the pillows, breathy sobs breaking from her lips, you took the time to bite into the soft skin of her neck, increasing the pace and pressure against her sensitive spots. Her hips started to rut against your hand in a spastic rhythm, she could feel the fire building in her gut, the spring about to burst when you turned your head murmuring into her ear.

“Come for me Casey….” She fucking lost it at that, shuddering against your body, wanton moan of your name yelped through the room, wetness oozing out of her lower lips against your hand. You slowed and softened your ministrations, kissing lightly up her neck and jawline as her heaving chest slowly calmed. Casey turned her head back to you, catching you in a breathless kiss,

“You weren’t kidding.” You laughed at that, moving to sit up, pulling your hand from her shorts, you kept her eye contact while you licked the digits clean.

“That’s less than half of it baby.” You smirked at her, starting to tug down her shorts as you leant down for another kiss.

“Why’re’you still wearing so many clothes.” She muttered against your lips, you chuckled, sitting back up to dispose of your bra and pants, leaving you in your soaking underwear as you stripped her nude. She seemed satisfied with that as you began a tantalizing kiss trail up the inside of her legs, naturally avoiding where she wanted your mouth the most. “Fuckin’ tease.”

You giggled lightly into her thigh, biting down a little harder than her neck, taking a quick glance up, drinking in her body before you and just how fucking gorgeous she was. Then you began your attack, licking a broad strip up her centre, sucking her clit into your lips for the briefest of seconds. You weren’t as slow this time, knowing she was still sensitive and probably wouldn’t be able to last very long. Moving back to her lower lips you sucked them, tongue probing into her, pulling her juices into your mouth. Fuck did she ever taste like fucking honey, you couldn’t get enough of it, Casey Novak would be the death of you, you knew that. Her breath started coming out in whimpers and whisper moans of your name and various cusses, you licked her heavily, moving your mouth up to her clit. Lips wrapping around it you played with the nub with your tongue while a finger slowly slipped inside of her again. You could feel her walls pulsating and fluttering around your finger as you rubbed her g-spot, you sucked her clit into your mouth, tugging at the swollen nub, sucking heavily as your tongue flicked against it in a steady heavy pattern, finger curling inside her. Her hips shot off the bed, thighs trembling as a loud whine escaped her mouth as she orgasmed a second time, quicker than you’d thought she would. You very softly licked her through it, careful to avoid her clit, lapping up the wetness with your tongue before you kissed your way up her searing skin, settling beside her. Your hand came to smooth the hair off her face, kissing her lips softly.

“You okay?” She grinned over at you,

“Fucking spectacular.” You barely had a second to laugh before she’d flipped you onto your back, lips moving against yours with a fire behind them, Casey was more than eager to make you feel as fucking incredible as you’d just made her. Her tongue probed into your mouth with expertise, groaning as she tasted herself on your lips, this woman fucking knew how to kiss, that was for fucking sure. Her hands lingered on your sides, nails oh so lightly scratching as she moved to cup your breasts, thumbs tracing circles around your nipples, hardening them before giving a soft pinch. You gasped into her mouth. A hand wrapped around the back of your neck, tugging against the roots of your hair while the other awakened goosebumps down your bare skin until it hit the hem of your panties. Casey let the elastic snap back against your skin while she sucked your lower lip into her mouth, letting it snap back. Opting to simply push the flimsy fabric to the side, tracing her fingertips through your folds. She couldn’t believe you were this wet from simply a kiss and getting her off, and it made her even more frenzied for you.

Casey moved from you lips, kissing down your neck, her teeth scraping the sensitive skin, she already knew from previous cuddle sessions your neck was overly sensitive (you’d shrieked when Carisi’s day old stubble hit it during a hug) and she wasn’t about to forget that fact. The whimpers leaving your lips confirmed it as she nipped into your pulse point, sucking against your skin, letting the nails of her pinky finger buried in your hair tickle the other side. Your hips thrust up, begging for some friction from her hand. She smiled against your skin, slowly slipping a finger into your heat, pumping and curling it. The mewl that left your lips was more than enough to encourage her, she bit again at your pulse point, smoothing the reddening skin with her tongue. Casey was quick to add another finger, toying with your sensitive spots, copying your movements as her thumb started to circle your clit. You moaned out her name, hands grasping at her skin, begging for her to be impossibly close to you. You were so fucking tormented by the simple thought of her in your bed, much less how you got her off that you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. You pulled her off your neck, your lips connecting again in deep passion while she increased her pace, fucking you harder as your body began to writhe against her, you gasped for air as your orgasm washed over you, slick drenching her hand and your thighs.

“You sure you haven’t done that before?” You breathlessly whispered against her cheek, she chuckled softly,

“Only to myself….” You nipped at her lip, she moved to push your panties off your body, your hand grabbing her wrist,

“Case, you don’t—“

“Oh…I want to…” Casey had been adamant on getting a proper taste of you since the second her tongue had gotten in your mouth. You certainly sparked something within her to bloom that she’d been unknowingly holding back for years, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her now. When she settled between your legs she took all of you in, in awe of your absolute glistening form. “Fuck baby…” She murmured, kissing your inner thigh but not bothering to hold back before her mouth practically launched into your pussy. You gasped, hips thrusting against her mouth as her tongue moved through you, your hand shooting out to tug at her hair. Casey hummed in gratuitous satisfaction at how fucking sweet you tasted, lapping at your sopping cunt. The vibrations caused you to practically sob out her name, body already beginning to shake against her as she sucked at your clit. Finger tips barely probed inside of you, her other hand reaching up your writhing body to pinch at your nipples and you couldn’t fucking hold it back, cumming hard. Back arching off the bed, a series of whines and breathy moans escaping your lips, Casey smirked in satisfaction as she heard her name leave you over and over again, your hand tugging against her hair.

“Fuck…” Was about all you could get out while she settled back beside you, fingers gently stroking your face while you came back to Earth. She kissed your cheek softly, pulling you to her as your huffing slowed to a stop, wrapping an arm around your back. You buried yourself into her neck, thankful for her body against yours. She wasn’t surprised when you fell into a deep slumber in a matter of minutes, you’d barely slept in the last 48 hours and it had been a stressful couple of days. She kissed your forehead lightly, pulling you tighter against her as she tucked against you, soon falling into her own peaceful sleep.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #censured #law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit

31 notes · View notes

fantasypackerreviews · 1 year

Text

Claw - Something Squishy Toys

Size: Large

Firmness: Soft

Claw - Harness - Review rules - FAQ

Packer review list - Twitter mirror for this review of Claw

Shares appreciated! Review under the cut

For reference: here’s an image of three pants types without a packer worn (and also, a reminder to always tuck your shirt when packing with dress pants!)

(Thick -> Joggers -> Dress pants)

Visual

Claw worn, stood neutral:

Claw worn, sat cross legged:

Claw worn, seated

Claw, worn, leg up on stool (had to up the contrast for the first set of pants due to poor lighting)

Claw worn, crouching

Claw poses no problems in any of the test pants, even in high stress posing, packed here against my body for this review:

(Model from Magic Poser)

Despite the length of the balls, I actually did manage to wear Claw both a little higher and lower, but here was about the "sweet spot" where I found him most comfortable to wear.

Size comparison:

Claw doesn't give much shaping, in most positions with every style of pants he wasn't noticeable, which is ideal for folks who want to pack for feel rather than flair - and also a very good shout for folks who wish to feel like they have a smaller penis when they pack.

While the shaft length of the large isn't really that small in comparison to flaccid natal cocks, the long balls do offer the effect if desired!

Wearability

I had no problems wearing Claw, even as someone who prefers some visible shaping I found him incredibly pleasant to pack with. The long base/balls made it so he never fully disappeared from my mental presence, so even if he wasn't visible I was still experiencing him in a way that felt natural.

Claw had a mild sliding issue in my pouch harness, however it was mild enough that I could have easily gotten by without adjusting - I just prefer to give packers a little shuffle back into place, because I find it somewhat liberating to "adjust my balls" as natal cock havers tend to.

Standing, sitting, walking around, etc all posed no problems otherwise!

Drawbacks

Other than being another I wouldn't recommend for a slingshot packer harness, the drawbacks would be subjective in that this may not be the packer for someone seeking a stronger visible profile.

Summary

I'm happy to say Claw is a wonderful packer for folks that want the feel of a smaller cock, but still have a strong mental and sensation presence, a niche I had been worried for quite some time fantasy packers may take a long time to fill.

I would recommend Claw for folks with any level of packing experience, with a slight lean to recommend medium if it would be your absolute first packing experience.

Sounds like your guy? Sounds like you need one!

Here's SST's size chart for their other sizes! This guy really is the hero for those who'd prefer to "pack small"

(And while I don't have one for review just yet, there is a Longer Version of this packer if you like the overall shape but would ideally like a longer shaft!)

#indietc #adulttoy #packer #packers #review #somethingsquishytoys

12 notes · View notes

storytime-reviews · 2 years

Text

Book Lovers Book Review

Nora is a cut-throat literary agent at the top of her game. Her whole life is books. Charlie is an editor with a gift for creating bestsellers. And he's Nora's work nemesis. Nora has been through enough break-ups to know she's the woman men date before they find their happy-ever-after. That's why Nora's sister has persuaded her to swap her desk in the city for a month's holiday in Sunshine Falls, North Carolina. It's a small town straight out of a romance novel, but instead of meeting sexy lumberjacks, handsome doctors or cute bartenders, Nora keeps bumping into...Charlie.

Rating: ★★★★★

I wasn’t a fan of People We Meet On Vacation, but a friend thought I’d still enjoy Book Lovers, and she was 100% correct. I loved everything about this book. Emily Henry takes a classic romance trope head on and brilliantly turns it around with the two main characters she has created.

The sisterly dynamic between main character Nora and Libby was interesting, and I enjoyed how it all unfolded and the audience learns why it is the way it is, based on their childhood. But as important as this relationship is for Nora’s characterisation, it is her evolving relationship with Charlie, and her subsequent growth, that carries the narrative.

Of course this is an enemies to lovers romance, so they hate each other immediately and I adore it! Even though they don’t like each other they have incredible chemistry, and I love their back and forth banter via email. They are both on the same level when it comes to snark and sarcasm, and so these little conversations are captivating. The most important aspect of Book Lovers is that whilst I love their interactions, I also think they are great as individuals. In some ways, they just seem to know each other so effortlessly. Even just from brief interactions they understand each other in ways that no one else ever has.

The conversations between Nora and Charlie move from humorous banter to much more serious moments, such as when they discuss their difficult childhoods and romantic entanglements. I believe this is what makes these characters and their chemistry so great, that they are capable of discussing literally anything with each other and engaging on multiple different levels. They can read each other better than anyone else – I truly believe that in all good relationships there is some element of that. Nora is so good at lying to others, yet Charlie sees through her. He pushes her to be honest and let her walls down, and she does the same for him. They are perfect for each other.

Both characters let the other see their flaws and insecurities, and neither of them are derided for it. They are supportive and understanding, even when they seemingly don’t like each other. At one point in a vulnerable moment Charlie says, ‘maybe I just say the right thing for you.’ and that pretty much sums up their relationship. So much of Book Lovers is about how neither of them have had good relationships in the past, that they have never felt palatable to others. But in each other they have managed to find the exact person that these quirks perfectly suit, someone who loves every aspect of them. Without even realising it, they feel they can tell the other things they have never told anyone else.

Yet another important aspect of their dynamic is that they can be assholes around each other and to each other. It just feels like their relationship progression is so natural because they know the real person, rather than hiding behind a persona that they are a better, kinder person. It means they are comfortable enough to be themselves in the presence of the other, even before anything romantic happens between them, and it makes the narrative journey that much more fun to follow.

The ending is bittersweet, but it completely fits with the rest of the narrative, and how each of the characters grow and learn to become more independent, but also more vulnerable. There are of course happy elements, but it also feels realistic which I love.

Warnings: references to cheating, PTSD, anxiety, depression

#booklr #book lovers #emily henry #tbrbusterchallenge2022 #bookbanditchallenge #reading #books #book review

17 notes · View notes

canonical-transformation · 2 years

Note

Excuse me I would like to know all the fic wips you are currently writing (minus the Lady justice and Librarian fic cause I read the asks and got the jest of both Noir!FIschl and traveling!lisa)

Sure! (actually I'm going to be lazy and just describe three—Never Send a Ninja, Drop a Jade Chamber (or: The Obvious Question), and Hotaru on the Shore—because that's a lot of fics to talk about otherwise 🥲)

Never Send a Ninja is an alternate version of Buyer's Guide to the Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder, in which Yae Miko sends not Sayu but Ei to stand in line for the statue for Sara.

It's somewhat Eisara romcom, and I suck at writing getting-together type romance, so it's a bit of a challenge in pushing my comfort zone. Featuring: Lumine and Paimon being besties and clearly having all the brain cells.

Drop a Jade Chamber (or: The Obvious Question) keeps changing its mind about whether it's a Ningguang character study with Beiguang elements, or a Beiguang established relationship fic with Ningguang character study elements >_>

It centres on a simple conceit: what if that post-Beisht conversation with Cloud Retainer had left Ningguang seething? Incredibly f****ng angry? Wanting to tear the Adeptus to pieces?

(Beidou is trying to be a grounding presence, the voice of calm.)

Hotaru on the Shore is a rambly action adventure in which, after the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles casts her down, Lumine washes up in Kannazuka not Stormbearer Beach, a few months into the VHD. The Resistance finds her before the Shogunate does, and the War goes entirely off the rails.

Without Paimon present (she's still in Mondstadt I guess?; yes this was actually the original inspiration for the City of Gales AU; @gierosajie @aromantic-eight fun fact I guess)... Lumine's relationship to her Elemental powers is different. I also want to use this fic to explore a much more competent Kokomi vs Sara chessmaster dynamic.

Unfortunately I know like zilch about guerrilla warfare, naval warfare, etc., so there's probably some research to go yet :P

Excerpts:

Ei dropped to one knee. "I beg your forgiveness, Lady Kujou."

"What?" said Sara. Her mouth worked opened and closed silently a few times, before managing another "What!?"

Paimon asked, "Do you want to be the one to explain, Traveller?"

Lumine said no.

"I... Your Excellency, why are you kneeling?" Sara stammered, her face heating up. "Why are you apologising to me? Did— did Yae put you up to this...?"

"In this matter, though I am here on Yae's behalf, I am as a samurai who has failed her liege's orders," said Ei. She blinked. "Is this... not the appropriate level of obeisance a warrior ought to show her liege?" [...]

Excerpt 2:

[...]Aloud, [Ningguang] said, "Yes, perhaps I'm a little angry at Cloud Retainer–"

"Angry? 'Angry' is when someone cons you out of a few million Mora," said Beidou. "You don't look angry, you look... I don't even know if there's a word for that."

Furious. The word was furious.

There were three prides that fed Cloud Retainer's ego, that made her who she was: her pride as an inventor, her pride as an adeptus, her pride as a 'mother'.

(She'd determined this a year ago, the night Morax had died, pulling an all-nighter with Baixiao to examine every historical record they could find on Liyue's Adepti before negotiations began. In retrospect, talking to the crane herself for two minutes would have sufficed.)

"Ning... Keqing said you were talking about destroying another Jade Chamber."

Three prides; therefore, three objectives to fulfil on her path to destroy Cloud Retainer, to annihilate the bitch, to shatter her sense of self so completely that she wouldn't know who she was any more, that she would wish she was dead.

"She said you seemed casual, but, Ning..." Beidou frowned softly. "I know what a number losing the Chamber did on you."

The first of these objectives, undermining Cloud Retainer's pride as an inventor, was simple enough[...]

(...tagging @fishareglorious @cadriona who'd probably get a kick out of the above :P)

No coherent excerpts for Hotaru yet, alas, besides the opening:

Lumine drowned for four hundred and ninety-six years.

Her body, damaged from the confrontation with the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles, continually tried to knit itself back together. Air continually rematerialised in her lungs, only to be forced out by the weight of the water around her. It was not nearly enough for her current body (human, in all the ways that mattered) to maintain consciousness, but it stopped her from sinking directly to the ocean floor. For nearly five centuries, she drifted around on the currents, limbs occasionally twitching, body constantly, constantly, dying.

[...]

(context for ask)

#asks #fic bits #my writing #never send a ninja (to do a samurai's job)#ningguang #beiguang #hotaru on the shore au #city of gales au #genshin impact #why write when i can talk about writing

32 notes · View notes

thearchivistsjournal · 1 year

Text

Day 227,

I have some time alone to write, so it seems as good a time as any to put to paper the events of the last two nights.

As I had begun to recount earlier, two nights ago now feeling energized from my healing and unable to sleep I returned to the upper pool for another soak. After a short time, the nature sprite joined me, seeming to find the hot spring as relaxing as I did. Having grown used to the sprite’s presence once more with the nights of it accompanying me sitting watch and the days of it walking along the road with me, I was not nearly as alarmed by its presence as I would have been a month ago. In truth, I was fascinated. I don’t think I’d ever seen it so at rest save perhaps under the archway of Siren Overlook.

The appearance of other sprites soon after put me rather more on edge.

They emerged from the shadows at the shifting edges of the water-refracted crystal-light with hardly a shuffling of undergrowth. Six of them, one after the other over the course of a minute or two. When the first one appeared I froze, mind flashing back to that night in the the incident. When it slipped into the water the not-purring next to me cut off and “my” nature sprite opened its eyes.

This was my first time seeing other nature sprites beyond glowing eyes in the dark, but there was no mistaking what they were. They all appeared to be composed of plant matter rather than flesh and all roughly followed the humanoid body plan of one head, two arms, two legs, but beyond that they varied immensely.

“My” nature sprite, on the rare occasions that it rears up to its full height, stands head and shoulders above even Maiko; lean for its height, long fingered, skin of bark, face nearly human but too long and narrow, ending in a squared nose that would bring to mind a deer when paired with the antlers were it not for the sharp teeth. Most of the others shared the barkskin, save for one that brought to mind a flower rather than a tree (green flesh, layered leaves and petals) and one so covered in fur-like moss it was impossible to tell what lay beneath (if indeed there was anything at all). The smallest was shorter than Cass, creating barely a ripple as it took its seat across from me. The largest was as tall as “mine” and twice as wide. Last to arrive, it displaced the water over the sides and gushing over the waterfall as its rotund form trundled into the spring.

This at last was enough to snap me from my frozen terror as I scrambled to grab and lift this journal and my clothes to save them from being soaked. This elicited a round of vocalizations from the gathered sprites. Amusement or apology I know not. Afraid to actually move too far from where I already was, I quickly wrapped my clothes around my journal and tossed the bundle a short distance away. Still within the light but hopefully out of splash radius.

When I turned back to my newfound spa-mates I realized that one had adjusted its seat to be closer to me. Whether this was a matter of intentionally getting closer or spreading out now that a new (and large) guest had arrived I’m not sure, but “my” sprite responded by grabbing my shoulders, pulling me over to its side, and hissing at the other sprites. This elicited another round of vocalizations and then all returned to calmly soaking in the warm waters.

“My” sprite loosened its grip but kept one arm around me for the rest of the night. Over the next several minutes, I too finally managed to force myself to relax once more. It’s strange, while on a deep level I still fear this being that haunts me, when there is aught else of danger its presence becomes comforting and I don’t fear anything else (or at least, I fear less). I may be a plaything to it, but I’m its plaything.

With it now apparent that I was in no immediate danger, I found curiosity getting the better of me once more and I took the opportunity to more closely examine the other sprites now that they were all gathered in the light. Eerie underlighting constantly shifting with the surface of the pool, but lighting nonetheless. Some were curvier in silhouette than others, but I suspect it would be inaccurate to label any of them as feminine or masculine, male or female. I don’t think human ideas of gender or sex truly apply to these entities. By that token, the faces, where they were human-like, were relatively androgynous, made moreso by the animal-suggesting distortions. A vulpine pointedness on one, a porcine roundness on another. Never truly animal features, but easy for an imaginative mind to jump to associations. None had the antlers “mine” had, although one had a pair of curving horns, and the flower-like one had structures resembling antennae. I tried not to think too hard about the purpose similar structures serve in actual flowers.

It occurs to me I could fill pages going on like this, and did last night. I’ll save further in-depth physical descriptions for the archival research notebook. For now, I’ll only add that they did all have a single feature in common beyond their plant-like composition: their eyes. Glowing orbs that leave spots burned into your retinas if you meet their gaze yet paradoxically cast little, if any light on their faces or surroundings.

The night went on in reasonable calm from there. There were more vocalizations between the sprites here and there. They obviously communicate, but it’s hard to say how much might actually be language as it mostly sounded like short noises in isolation. A grunt, a laugh, a trill, a sigh, a hum. Perhaps they have some other means of communication that I’m blind and deaf to and the noises are just expressions of emotion or exclamation?

Speaking of vocalizations, I soon began to suspect that the lower pool was occupied as well, but from my vantage point I wasn’t able to get a good look until the next night.

Eventually, I finally started to tire. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was registering that I’d been in the pool longer than it was healthy to remain in water that warm but I was feeling none of the effects of overheating. Maybe the healing properties cancel that out to a degree? (Unintentional pun but I’m leaving it.) But as I said, I grew sleepy. The warmth of the pool, the sound of the rain frogs, the arm around me whose owner I could almost forget. Somewhere I nodded off. I don’t know for how long, but I awoke with a start on the edge of the pool rather than in it, still damp.

The sprites were all gone, even “mine.” Unsure what else to do, I dried myself, dressed, returned to camp, slipped into my bedroll as quietly as I could, and went to sleep until morning.

It wasn’t until last night that I was able to convince myself that the whole thing wasn’t just a dream.

As my journal entry last night indicated, when everyone else went down for bed I returned to the spring and wrote until the sprites appeared again. Once more they quietly stepped from the darkness of the surrounding jungle and made their ways to the pools, both upper and lower. I soon felt a hand on my shoulder, grip just heavy and tight enough to be uncomfortable. “My” sprite, standing behind me, hunched over like a crone as usual.

I started, calmed when I recognized the hand’s owner, acknowledged its presence, and the grip loosened.

I had brought my research notebook with me as well that night. I intended to take notes on all of them. Sketch them as well as I could. Maybe even attempt to talk to one.

My attitude that night could best be described as “curiosity getting the better of fear and self-preservation.” In hindsight, that was a very outsider thing to do and I still can’t believe I did something so potentially stupidly dangerous. Especially considering the incident.

But, that night I’d pushed far from my mind. This night I attempted to communicate my plans to “my” sprite as best I could. Even tried drawing it and showing it.

It found this greatly amusing.

I took that as a good sign.

And so I spent most of the rest of the night walking around the pools, examining the sprites, making notes about their physical descriptions and behaviors, and attempting sketches. Some watched me, some ignored me. “My sprite” loomed behind me the entire time, standing up straighter if any took what I guess was too great an interest in me.

Still, those that seemed interested I spoke to, explaining what I was doing, and showing my sketches. For most of them they seemed either intrigued or amused. None spoke back to me though.

Not all were so friendly. One snapped at me upon seeing what I was doing. Literally, snapping at me with its teeth. This instigated a hissing and growling match between it and “my” sprite who once again pulled me close and leaned forward over my head to snap back.

Another one “my” sprite grabbed my shoulder and steered me away from as soon as I began to move toward it. I try not to imagine what that might have been about.

In total, there were fourteen nature sprites there, counting mine. Seven in the lower pool, six in the upper. Satisfied that I had proof to prove to myself in the morning I hadn’t dreamt all this, and beginning to tire once more, I let “my” sprite bring me along as it claimed its spot in the upper pool. It was a slightly different crowd this time. The big one and the flowery one were still there though. Other faces were new.

From there the night proceeded much like the one before, save that I dozed off sooner. Once more I woke up alone and snuck went quietly back to camp.

I still haven’t told the others about any of this. At first it was because I wasn’t sure if it was real. Now it’s because I worry that they (Cass in particular) will want to see for themselves and might end up attracting attention and also being haunted. While that has its moments of silver lining, it’s ultimately not something I would wish on anyone. (Please don’t take too much offense at that if you’re invisibly reading over my shoulder again.)

I’ll go one more time tonight and decide in the morning.

*******

After my lengthy writing session this morning, today’s been fairly uneventful. Just more going back and forth between soaking in the spring and exercising. I still might not be totally at one hundred percent by the time we leave this island, but I’ll be closer to it and have more hope of actually reaching it again than I have in months.

Speaking of which, judging by the moon we’ve agreed that tomorrow will be our last day here. The next day we’ll set out for Iole’s.

I’ll be returning to the spring again tonight. Going to leave this journal in camp but bring the notebook with me again. If the sprites are back again tonight and it all goes well, I’ll tell the others in the morning.

It makes me wonder though, does this one small island host this many sprites, or do they travel here nightly from afar, unbound by distance the way we are?

Also, do they come here because of the spring’s healing properties, or does it have healing properties because they come here? There are a number of phenomena in this world that I can imagine potential non-magical explanations for (most of which predicate on this whole environment being artificially constructed with mind-bogglingly advanced science and engineering) - even the healing spring (underground heating devices and dissolved medicinals?) and the shades (nanomachine swarms?) - but with the sprites I have nothing and whatever they touch becomes suspect as well.

<==Previous Next==>

2 notes · View notes