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ladamedusoif · 3 months

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(Joel Miller x disabled F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Summary: "I just don't think she'll be able for patrol". But then it's just you, Joel, and your trusty walking stick in the middle of nowhere...

Content/warnings: Reader is disabled (she has rheumatoid disease/arthritis in addition to panic attacks, she uses a walking stick as necessary); Reader had a sister; Reader is an art teacher; strong violence; blood; description of panic attack; references to impact of chronic illness and disability; references to medication; references to disease and death; non-canon compliant; Jackson!Joel; strong language; ableist language and abusive language

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI

Word Count: ~3.7k

A/N: After making a plea earlier in the week for people to actually write disabled Reader fic, as opposed to forcing writers to feel they have to tag literally everything in an able-bodied Reader story, I knew I had to put my money where my mouth was as a disabled, neurodivergent writer with various mental health things going on here and there. And this one-shot is the result.

This one is a little personal. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid disease about ten years ago, and Reader’s experiences are informed by my own (though, thankfully, I haven’t had to contend with an apocalypse that meant I couldn’t access the medication that has kept me going). She’s also inspired by @agentjackdaniels, who acted as consultant extraordinaire on walking sticks and panic attacks, and suggested the Joel picture for the moodboard. Thank you, Luce, for this, for fighting the good fight for representation in fic - and for beta-ing the story.

(A note on terminology: rheumatoid disease/arthritis are sometimes used interchangeably. ‘Arthritis’ often sounds like it’s ‘just’ osteoarthritis to people who don’t know the difference. Rheumatoid, unlike osteoarthritis (which is shitty in its own ways), is a systemic, lifelong, chronic illness and an auto-immune disorder that affects the entire body, not just bones and/or joints. So personally I use ‘rheumatoid disease’ as it conveys more of the impact of the condition. It's also often seen as an 'old person' disease but this simply isn't true - not that this stops mobility aids being modelled by people in their 80s all the time...)

Please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to stay up to date with my work.

Dividers by @saradika - moodboard by me

You weren’t supposed to make it.

Twenty-odd years in the apocalypse with your fucked-up joints and no steady supply of the meds that kept you going, pushing through the cycles of fatigue, and fighting off your own goddamned immune system as much as you were fighting clickers and raiders.

You really weren’t supposed to make it. But you had Annie.

You were sharing an apartment when the outbreak happened, a quirk of shitty personal circumstances - she’d just broken up with her long-term boyfriend - that probably helped save your life. Annie was the all-action sister - the kind of person who thinks there’s nothing weird about spending your weekends doing triathlons and “Tough Mudder” challenges, who had a perfect bill of health your entire lives, who bounced out of bed in the mornings while you cracked and creaked and stiffly manoeuvered yourself into being.

The good days generally outweighed the bad in the years between your diagnosis with rheumatoid disease and the initial outbreak - or maybe you had just gotten used to the aches and pains and the occasional flare-ups of fatigue. You invested in a walking stick to help on those days when mobility was particularly bad: solid, heavy, and carved in a pale yellow wood. It felt like a comfort in your hand, more a sign of strength, to you, than of weakness.

Annie helped you through the panic attack that consumed you on outbreak day, working with you to regulate your breathing and relax your tense muscles until you could finally say what was on your mind.

“My meds. What am I going to do without my meds?”

Nothing a quick smash and grab at the local pharmacy couldn’t fix. It was the first of many, stockpiling the little yellow tablets you relied on and taking as many packs of over-the-counter painkillers as you could carry. Useful currency in the apocalypse, as it turned out.

All-Action Annie was never going to cope with life in a QZ. She got the two of you out after months of planning, nights of whispered talk about a town out west that was normal - or something close to it, anyway. She hadn’t entertained your protestations about you slowing her down, holding her back.

“You think I’m leaving behind a girl who’s so handy with a weapon?” she’d teased, pointing to your walking stick. “Be real. We’re busting out together.”

The infection took hold in her about three days from Jackson. Fuckin’ barbed wire, tearing a jagged line through Annie’s hand and leaving behind an old-fashioned kind of threat to life, the kind penicillin had mostly dealt with. But that was then. This was now.

She died in an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, you holding her hand until the end, talking to her about your childhoods and trying to keep smiling until she closed her beautiful eyes.

It took all your strength to dig her grave. And then, somehow, you found more.

You weren’t supposed to make it. But you did.

Jackson stands before you.

He sees you for the first time in the community dining hall, talking animatedly to Maria as you hungrily devour the food set in front of you. Eyes wide, face grubby, clothes ragged. Half-wild, he thinks, like most of the new arrivals. Like him and Ellie, once upon a time. He returns to his bowl of soup and his own thoughts - at least, until he’s interrupted by Maria.

“Joel? Want to introduce a new member of the community, just arrived.”

He doesn’t quite know why he’s surprised when he realises you’re leaning on a sturdy hand-carved walking stick in a solid, light yellow wood. Maybe it’s because he knows how physically hard it is to get here. Maybe he just assumed folks who needed a stick wouldn’t have been able to manage the journey.

For a second he can hear Sarah’s voice in his head, chiding him for focusing on what a disabled person can’t do instead of what they can.

“Joel?”

He snaps out of his reverie and looks from Maria to you. “Uh, hi. Sorry, just…sorry. Forgot my manners.”

“I was just saying how glad we are to have someone who can offer some art education in the town, isn’t that right, Joel?”

Your eyes are warm and mischievous as you meet his gaze, silently conveying your amusement at Maria’s rather brusque manner. It’s all Joel can do not to laugh.

“Sure is. You’re an artist, then?”

You shake your head. “Not a real one. I was an art teacher, before. Long time since I created anything, though, so I hope I remember how.”

He smiles softly, his gruff exterior receding a little. “Bet it’s just like riding a bike,” he says, before his face falls as he looks at your walking stick. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean… Shit. Hope I didn’t offend.”

“As it happens, I can ride a bike, Joel. The apocalypse just doesn’t give me much cause to.”

You leave him with a smile and a wink as Maria ushers you to meet other townsfolk. He watches you as you walk away, the tap-tap-tapping of your stick beating out a new rhythm in the heart of Jackson.

You think of Annie every morning when you wake up in the little house you’d been assigned. Sometimes, as you potter around the kitchen, still revelling in the novelty of making yourself morning coffee for the first time in two decades, you even talk to her. You tell her about the town, the townsfolk, your work in the community vegetable garden, your art classes.

“Honestly, An, you wouldn’t believe how popular they are,” you tell the Annie who, in an alternate universe, is sitting at the kitchen table with her own mug of coffee. “I’m setting up extra sessions to cater for demand.”

There’s something uplifting in how hungry the people of Jackson are to make art, no matter their experience or existing skill level. They’ll draw stuff from memory, they’ll dutifully work on a still life, they’ll even traipse outside with you, wooden sketching boards in hand, and make rapid-fire sketches of the goings-on on Main Street.

Joel doesn’t join a class - but the teenage girl Maria refers to as “Joel’s kid” does, all potty-mouthed and enthusiastic and pretty damned talented, to boot. Ellie tells you how she’s pinned up the drawings she’s proudest of in their home, “like our own fuckin’ art gallery or some shit.”

You pull up a tall stool and sit beside her, resting your stick over your thighs. “Joel’s got his guitar and those dumbass model figures he paints,” she continues, leaning around her easel and squinting at the woman who’d volunteered to act as a life model for this week’s classes. “But this shit? This is real art.” She adds a little highlight to the woman’s sweater and leans back to assess the work.

“You probably got exempt from patrols, I’m guessing. On account of the stick, an’ all.”

“Maria asked, and I signed up happily. I got all the way here, didn’t I? I’m sure I can manage patrols. And it’s the least I can do - they’ve even found me some of the medications I need.”

Ellie nods, somewhat convinced, and returns to sketching out the contours around the model’s jaw.

The day of your first patrol arrives. You bundle up and set out early for the stables, allowing extra time to get there on account of the flare-up you’d been experiencing the day before.

You arrive early - just in time, in fact, to overhear a heated conversation between Joel and Maria.

“She’s doing enough, ain’t she? I just don’t think she’ll be able for patrol.”

“You’ve seen her out and about, Joel. She’s mobile. She’s competent. She’s good with the horses. She got all the way here, the last stretch on her own. What more proof do you need?”

“You’re seriously gonna send a woman with a walking stick out on patrol?”

“I seriously am. Sent you and your bad back out, didn’t we?”

“That ain’t the same and you know it.”

“Just saddle the horses, Joel. And, in case you’re wondering - yes, I paired you together deliberately, just until she gets settled.” You hear her footsteps recede as she leaves him.

You had misjudged how much your already-limited grip would be further impeded by the gloves you’re wearing. The stick clatters to the ground.

“Who’s there?”

You emerge from the shadows. “Me. Sorry.”

Joel rolls his eyes and gruffly points out the tack and supplies.

The first patrol passes in silence. You wonder what happened to the softer man you’d caught a glimpse of the first day you arrived.

On the second patrol, you ask him questions about himself. On the third patrol, he asks (fewer) questions about you. By the fourth, you’re having something approximating normal conversation.

“Sarah loved to make all kinds of stuff,” he ventures, leading the way on his chestnut horse. “Those beaded bracelets, that girly Lego in the pink and purple, all of that. My girl had enough Magic Markers to supply a whole elementary school. Maybe two.”

You can hear him smile, even without seeing his face. His shoulders relax a little as he recalls the memory.

“So she was a creative kid?”

“Creative, sporty… she could do anything. Made the school soccer team, she was so proud. Just a…” He pauses. “A great kid.”

There’s a few beats of silence, punctuated only by the sound of the horses snickering and the steady rhythm of their hooves on the ground.

“What about your sister, was she arty like you?”

You’d told him about Annie on the last patrol. This was the first time he’d asked about her explicitly.

“She was the sporty one. I think that’s why I survived so long, truth be told. She was so strong and fast and tough as fuck.”

He chuckles, the burr of his voice resonating in the cold air. “Sounds like a good balance, though.”

“It is - it was. Was.” Your voice grows quieter as you repeat the word to yourself, chest starting to tighten. The horse slows, responding to the tension of your body, as Joel continues to trot on, not realising you’ve come to a halt behind him.

And then the tell-tale snapping of a twig, the sound of footsteps, and the realisation there’s someone else there, emerging out of the woods. Two someones.

Raiders.

The panic attack that has been building inside you gives way. An innate fight or flight response kicks in as you roar his name.

Joel turns and charges back towards you, just in time to see you take out one raider with a crack shot from your pistol. He slows the horse and readies his rifle, staring at the other man who is now trying to haul you off your mount.

“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker!” You flail against him, desperately shifting your weight to the other side of the saddle to try to shake him off.

Joel takes aim.

You think you’ve kicked the raider off. And that’s when you hit the ground.

He can’t take the shot now, not with her half-hidden from his view and audibly fighting off the man who’s dragged her to the ground. Joel is still a little distance away, slightly too far to see exactly what’s happening.

Why didn’t he hear her slowing? Why didn’t he realise she was further behind than she ought to be? Why did she slow in the fuckin’ first place?

Joel quickly dismounts, rifle in hand, moving closer so he can get a clearer shot at the guy who’s now standing over her. The horse’s elegant neck obscures the raider’s hands from Joel’s vision - he has no idea if he’s pointing a gun at her or not.

He thinks he has a clear sight on the guy’s head, provided he stays in the same position. He readies the rifle.

Suddenly, the raider disappears, letting out a primal roar before he hits the ground.

“You fucking cunt!”

Joel can see she’s standing now, the man prone before her. As he rounds the horse he sees her lift her cane, hands securely gripping the pointed end of the stick.

She brings the solid, weighty handle down on the raider’s leg with a sickening crunch. Even Joel recoils a little at the sight and the sound.

“F-f-fucking…c-c-cunt!”

Thwack. The other leg.

Fuck. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

”Keep calling me that, and I’ll keep the blows coming.”

Holy fuck. Who is she?

”C-c-c-cripple.”

”Excuse me?”

The raider props himself up on his arms. “I said, cripple. Fucking crippled cunt.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Joel cocks his rifle.

The stranger sneers at Joel. “Awww, he’s actin’ the big man now. Weren’t too quick gettin’ back down here to save your cripple woman, were ya?”

Before Joel can react, she swings her stick over her head and brings it down on the man’s skull with a furious scream that seems to come from the very depths of her being.

She screams and screams as she hits him, over and over, eyes wild in her blood-spattered face. Joel recognises this: in himself; hell, in Ellie. It’s the moment when the floodgates open and all those years of pain blend together and zone in on this convenient target, an avatar for everyone and everything who had forced loss and trauma upon you.

He roars at her to stop, but knows she can’t hear him. It’s just her and the raider, now: her rage and fear and grief finding their expression through a walking stick turned cudgel.

A single shot ends it. She turns sharply, as if snapped out of a trance, and sees the smoke leaving Joel’s pistol.

“Hey. Hey. You alright?” His broad hands grip your biceps as he looks into your eyes.

Yes, you tell him, yes. You’re fine. But Joel keeps asking.

“Talk to me. Are you okay? I’m worried about you. Please, just talk to me.”

You are moving your mouth, but no sound is coming out. The familiar vice is tightening around your chest. You look down at your blood-stained hands and you struggle to breathe.

“‘M dying, Joel. Can’t breathe. All the blood. So much. Why can’t I breathe?”

Oh, he realises with a pang. She gets these things too. And I know how to help.

“You’re okay, you hear?” He’s rubbing your arms gently, keeping his gaze on you. “You’re alright. Breathe along with me, okay?”

It’s difficult to find the rhythm, at first. Joel’s hands find yours and squeeze them in time with his breath.

”In through your nose, that’s it. Slow and steady. Now out through your mouth.”

He can see your muscles starting to visibly relax. A wave of relief courses over him.

”Yeah, that’s it - you got this. You got this, good girl, you’re just fine. Gonna be alright.”

When he’s confident your breathing has settled and the panic attack receded somewhat, he gently guides you away from the body of the dead raider, one hand holding your horse’s bridle and the other holding yours.

“Why don’t you have a seat for a minute, huh?” Joel gestures to a long, low tree trunk lying near the forest’s edge and opens his saddlebags, rummaging until he finds a cloth, a battered hip flask and a bag of dried apple slices.

”Here.” He wipes the blood as best he can from your hands and proffers the flask, settling his substantial frame beside you on the log. “Have a sip or two, just to relax you a little bit more. Got a snack, here, too.”

You flinch at the taste of the liquor, but take a second sip regardless. The apple slices barely taste of anything in the afterburn of the moonshine. Joel nibbles on some jerky and stares into the middle distance.

You take a break from patrol, agreed with Maria, and a few days off your art classes. It was tempting to keep going, to return to the light and airy studio and to your students. But you feared a relapse.

And your body needed to recover physically, too. You ached from head to toe, fingers and toes puffy and swollen and movement seriously restricted. You ration out the supply of medication you’ve secured since getting here, and use hot water bottles and plenty of rest to try to ride out the flare in your arthritis.

Three days after the incident, there’s a knock on the door. You hobble to answer it, leaning on your trusty stick for support.

”Came by to see how you were doing. Got you some things if you needed ‘em.”

Joel is standing on your front porch, holding a jute grocery bag. He pauses, as if waiting for you to give him permission to say more.

”That’s so very kind of you, Joel. Come in, won’t you? I was able to set a fire so it’s nice and cosy.”

He watches as you lead the way into the living room, noting how much slower you were today. Guilt laps at his conscience. He said she shouldn’t go on patrol. He knew.

”You want me to bring these into the kitchen for you?”

“That would be a great help. Thank you.” He’s glad to see you smile, after the trauma of the patrol. “If you want a drink, I’ve got some tea and coffee in the cupboard just to the left of the sink.”

He pops his head back into the living room. “What would you like?”

“A tea would be perfect. Mugs are in the cupboard to the right.”

You wrap yourself back up in your blankets on the couch, making room for Joel when he returns with the drinks and a couple of cookies, sent over by Ellie as part of his care package for you. The mug feels like a comfort in your aching hands, its heat assuaging the inflammation ravaging your joints.

He sips his coffee and you sit in silence for a little bit, watching the flames dance over the firewood.

“Have you, uh - you been okay, doing okay, since…”

Joel stares into his coffee cup and then looks at you, a little awkward. You smile, hoping to reassure him.

”I’ve been okay. Just the physical pain and exhaustion, mostly. And - well, you saw it. The panic. It can leave you drained.”

He nods and takes another swig of his drink. “I know. I - I’ve had times like that, too. Real fuckin’ scary, when you’ve never gone through it before.”

You study his face for a moment or two, noting the little scar on his temple, the lines on his face, the stern expression completely undermined by the warmth of his deep brown eyes. For an instant, he seems so vulnerable, this strong, tough man sitting on your little couch.

“I haven’t had an attack like that in a while. But then, I hadn’t done anything like that in a while.”

This time Joel turns to look at you properly. “Not your first rodeo, huh?”

You giggle at the turn of phrase. “Not quite. Let’s just say my stick did a lot of work over the last twenty years. He wasn’t the first to feel the brunt of it.”

Joel nods, and you feel strangely relieved that he doesn’t seem surprised. “Doesn’t get easier, though, does it?”

“It does not. Which is why it’s better to avoid having to do it.”

”I agree. Gotta say, though, I - I was worried you wouldn’t be able for patrol, y’know?”

You arch an eyebrow at him. “I know. I overheard you, remember?”

He blushes. “Aw, shit. Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I just didn’t want anything happening to you, what with your - condition, and all.”

You sigh softly, not really noticing the affection in his voice. “Most of the time, I’m fine. Y’know? I’m slower, but I do okay. I get tired more easily, but I manage. I didn’t come here to be a drain on the community.”

”You aren’t.”

”I know, but I want to keep it that way. I want to pull my weight. I’m able, Joel.”

He huffs in agreement. “Not like I’m a perfect specimen these days, either. Knees, fuckin’ back, deaf in one ear…”

You chuckle. “And you thought I wouldn’t manage patrol? Anyway, you’re not doing so bad, are you?”

He gives you a little smile, but that constant sadness still haunts his eyes. He stares at his coffee for a moment.

“You knew what you were doing, though.”

”I did. But I didn’t feel like I could stop.” You sip your tea, swallowing hard. “And I’m scared that makes me some kinda monster. You know?”

Oh, he knows. He knows it too well.

”You aren’t a monster.” Joel resists the urge to put an arm around you. “You just… something snapped, I guess. All that - well, all that hell you’ve gone through. It… it changes you. But it doesn’t make you a monster.”

He realises you’re crying before you do, spotting the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. He finds a clean handkerchief in his jeans and offers it to you.

Fuck it.

“Can I - can I put an arm round you? Just for some support?”

Your eyes light up, tears or no tears, and you nod enthusiastically. Joel is warm and comforting, his broad chest and strong arms a kind of anchor in the emotional storm. You nuzzle against him, and he gives you a little squeeze on the arm.

”You’re a really brave woman, you know that?”

His voice is quieter, more intentional. You look at him quizzically from under your lashes, unused to praise of this kind. For an instant you think about asking him what he means. But the safety you’ve found in the broad arm draped around you is all you need right now.

You nuzzle a little against his chest, and watch the fire dancing for the rest of the night.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x disabled f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #soft joel miller #disabled f!reader #disabled reader fic #hbo the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedrostories

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diaprincess-dl · 9 months

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First of all, thank you for who you are, and especially for choosing to share it with the world.

I am DL, with very few AB tendencies, if I understand correctly, you are also like that, with a connection to the DL world mainly.

There are very few women in the community in general, and in particular those who are DL. It's really refreshing to see that the first girl I notice that she's DL, she's also the most amazing beauty I've ever seen wearing diapers, and with a face that has real angelic cuteness.

I wanted to ask, and I would be very happy if you could answer, Even if not a complete answer, at least to know that you read and saw what I wrote, it will be very, very flattering to me.

When did you start wanting to wear a diaper? Is it sexual? If so, at what age did you realize it was related to sexual arousal? And if not, what in your soul makes you want this? At what age did you first put on diapers after initial weaning from diapers? And according to the fact that you had, from what I understand, late night wets, did your parents force you to wear a diaper? And when was the first time you put on a diaper in a section where it was clear to you that it was a so-called 'forbidden act'?

Sorry for the flood of questions.

I had a theory that was destroyed because of you, that these are only men can be a DL, because the sexual sensation associated with diapers somehow comes from stimulation and friction of the genital organ at a very young age in a diaper, which causes the brain to develop something very primitive to want a diaper, something that, technically, does not happen with women or should not happen for obvious reasons. And this is the reason that from the very, very basic tests I did, a lot of DL, these are children who were weaned at a relatively late age, 3, 4 and even 5. Then they develop the desire to wear a diaper, and at the age of 13 or so, it develops into something sexual. And that is why women are not DL, because the stimulation is supposed to be a lot more rarer.

One last thing I want to tell you is that the day I see a picture of you with a soaked diaper under your clothes, my day looks like rainbow.

Thank you so much for this!!!

Hiiyaaa 💕👸🏼

Thank you for such a kind message 🤗 I am definitely more into the DL side of things, you are absolutely correct but I do love some aspects of the AB side, I just don’t tend to share them online as much.

So I just started kindof dabbling in the world of diapers a few years ago, but had been wetting my pants and bed (some accidents, some on purpose) for literal years before I discovered the idea of wearing diapers… When I was a teen I went through phases where I would wet my bed like every night on purpose and then try to hide the evidence in the morning from my parents 🤦🏼‍♀️ they mentioned things a couple of times, but nowhere near the amount I was actually wetting the bed… they probably knew though lol.. l I definitely have a watersports kink, absolutely 🙊. Anyway I felt so silly for not thinking about the idea of using diapers sooner but diapers just never occurred to me lol. A few years back I saw my first porn video with another girl in a diaper and I was just in awe and had to try it myself 🤭.

Slowly I started to indulge more and more into blogs and personal ab/dl blogs to the point that I just kindof gradually mentally got myself in a space where I thought that I could try wearing diapers more often, which started off as just at night (when I was 26 to answer one of your questions)…. But somewhere in this phase I realized the convenience aspect of wearing 👀.. I could actually go through a full night in bed without having to get up to pee, so what started as a kink lead to discovering more than just that. I started wearing diapers all night, every night and just got used to waking up and wetting them, but this slowly, and I do mean slowly, about a year of wearing every night, turned into me starting to barely remember waking up to wet and eventually just flat out not remembering/not waking up and wetting myself most nights of the week. This was kindof scary but also turned me on? 🤷🏼‍♀️🤭 sooo I just kept doing it.

Here’s where the “convenience” aspect let me start wearing during the day: long road trips or long days out with my partner meant there was no real good spots to stop for the restroom all of the time. Things like concerts or big gatherings where there is drinking and long lines for the ladies room… I started wearing diapers to some of these things, not much as first but when I’d go back to not being diapered and have to suffer waiting in line, or waiting for a pit stop.. it was those moments that I seriously realized how much better it was being padded 💡 It was a little scary at first wearing diapers in public, especially wetting them.. also especially because I typically wear leggings or short dresses, so there is always some way that it can be seen. I’ve slowly just started to realize most people don’t care what you’re wearing for underwear, especially strangers. Friends on the other hand… 😬🫠 I know that some of my friends have noticed my diapers. I’ve had friends over for wine nights and forgot (on multiple occasions) to throw away my night time diapey and it was folded up on the bathroom floor and two of my friends went in there before I had went in and noticed. I’ve had a leak while waiting for a cab with my other friend and it was just us waiting outside in the quiet and I know she could hear the leaking onto the pavement. I also have multiple pictures on here of a diaper(s) I was wearing for while we were all hanging out…. So like all that and many other random occasions I’m sure lots of my friends know I wear diapers, I’m just waiting for someone to say something 🙊🙊 but part of me knowing they know, secretly turns me on? I’m super weird 🫠

So anyway since I knew there was a really big and accepting community out there for this, I finally got the courage to make a blog on Tumblr. It actually just started out as a personal blog for myself to be honest. Just a place where I could document my progress and share this side of me, for pictures I could go back and look at… I had no idea it would blow up like this. 😳 but I am extremely grateful and happy about it 💕💕

I wear diapers all of the time now, and am 100% nighttime bladder incontinent, and daytime at this point of a year wearing diapers 24/7 and NEVER trying to hold it….. I’m like basically there for daytime incontinence. 2 years ago I could totally hold it for hours like any other girl, but now I legitimately need diapers to keep me ‘dry’. I did it all to myself and part of me can’t believe it, but most of me is really happy I did it to myself 💕

#diaperdependent #diaper dependent #ab/dl #ab/dl community #ab/dl lifestyle #ab/dl babygirl #ab/dl diaper

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obscenely-overdue · 3 months

Text

[OOC] Weighted Pregnant Belly Instructions

Hi everyone! For those interested, I've jerry-rigged a method to pad/simulate/wear-a-fake-pregnant-tummy-for-kink-purposes with some real weight and firmness to it that I think people would like! It works very well for me but is also functionally a prototype/first pass at the idea, so there are certainly areas that it could be improved. (which is me saying "experiment and improve upon this, we can make it better!")

I'll preface this with the fact that, if you pay full price for everything involved, assuming you have NONE of it to start, it's probably about $120. That said, about $20-25 of that comes from a specific kind of pillow and blanket, which you very well may have, which would bring it realistically down to $100, and some of it is stuff which can be bought on sale pretty easily, which would land you in the neighborhood of $80. Again, it isn't cheap, but it has something not even a fancy Roanyer tummy has:

WEIGHT and BULK

It's also made of inconspicuous or otherwise easily hidden items, so if you have roommates or family who could see this stuff, it's great at being tucked away or hiding in plain sight. If you're curious, I have pictures, a shopping list, and step by step instructions, as well as some further tips and info. It's pretty long so I'm putting it under a cut...

Let's get started!

What you'll need:

One piece of fully body shapewear (the mauve one on top) and one piece of "tummy tuck" shapewear (black on the bottom). The full body one is about 2 sizes too big for what it's meant to do normally (so for me, an XXXL. This is the same shapewear I use for my squishmallow tummy for RP blog pictures), and the tummy tuck one is the "correct" size for my body (XL). The tummy tuck one gives you all the support, so you don't want it too oversized. DON'T GO UNDERSIZED EITHER as what we're going to load this up with is gonna cause some compression, and too much pressure on your abdomen can be harmful. When in doubt, go at your size or maybe one size bigger, but no farther. Both of these run $20-30 a piece at a target but also can be found on sale for $10-20. Target is going to charge you more than Walmart, and it doesn't have to be top of the line.

One soft, round pillow. This is like a $6 pick up from Walmart. It's not just soft from it's fabric, but it's specifically not firm to the touch. It's all give and is very malleable. Technically you could use a regular pillow too, but this being roughly disk shaped helps it do its job as basically the "lower belly" that keeps the weight from shifting too low.

An averaged sized blanket. Softer materials that fold and bunch up easier are preferred. You PROBABLY already have something that will work for this, but if you don't, again, Walmart will charge you like $15-20 for one.

And finally...

A 20 lbs kettlebell. This BASTARD is the single most expensive thing you'll need, and unfortunately is required if you want it to be properly heavy. This one came from Target, and ran me $55. You might think you want to go heavier, but trust me, this thing has all the heft you'll need. If you really want to, you could feasibly go for a 25 lbs. one, but those are even more expensive. The kettlebell shape is important because it's mostly round, unlike a dumbbell, so we can wrap it up and use it for a reasonably pregnant-shaped belly. A dumbbell of this weight might be a little cheaper, but if you're already going to drop $40 on an oddly shaped weight, another $15 so it can fit the tummy shape is worth it.

Putting it on:

[DISCLAIMER: If at any point something HURTS while putting this thing on or while wearing it, safely but quickly remove it. The weight is supposed to be cumbersome and a little uncomfortable for the fantasy of it, but if anything HURTS, something is wrong, and you need to take it off. If you lay on your back with this thing on for too long, get ready for ab muscle aches, possibly the next day, as your tummy will be supporting 20 lbs of external weight just pressing on it, and those muscles don't get used unless you work out. I've never worn this thing overnight to sleep, but I don't advise it, as extended period of compression can be harmful. Same logic as to why AFAB people who don't want visible boobs shouldn't bind for too long.]

Start by putting on the fully body shapewear, and then putting the tummy tuck shapewear over that. The fabric under my shapewear here is my sports bra, which isn't part of the belly process.

Next you're going to load the soft, round pillow into the full body shapewear. It's going to kind of fold in on itself and that's not an issue, if anything it gives a nice little landing zone for the next thing we're going to add.

Don't fight trying to get the pillow under the tummy tuck shapewear, right now just roll it down to your waistline under the pillow bulk like so.

Next you'll take your blanket, lay it out, set the kettlebell inside of it, and wrap/bunch it up. You want it something approximating 'round', making sure the kettlebell isn't going to roll/fall out when you pick it up.

Next, you load the wrapped up bastard in, setting it on top of the pillow. The kettlebell is going to shift, and try to sink deeper, that's fine, just maneuver it so it sits on the pillow, allowing the pillow to spread the weight more evenly.

Before you pull up the tummy tuck shapewear, it's going to look like this, notice how the bottom of it is lighter because that's all pillow, with the blanket over top.

Now comes of trickiest/most strenuous part, you gotta pull out the tummy tuck shapewear and get it out and around the bulk of your "tummy". You'll have an easier time if you pull the back part up a little first, so it's not fighting you, which you can see in the above photos. If anything starts to hurt during this process, stop and take it out, because likely something is too tight or too heavy.

Once the tummy tuck shapewear is pulled all the way up, it should look about like this, and you're loaded up and ready to waddle!

Notice how much more contained it all is? It's not spilling off of me anymore, it's firmly held against me. Now, just top with your favorite maternity shirt!

Or don't!

Now, clearly, it doesn't LOOK very pregnant. It's lumpy and awkward and it'll come out downright lopsided your first few times. But this isn't for taking pictures for an RP blog, this is for simulating something close to the feeling of carrying something heavy like a pregnant belly around. For those of us who can't or don't want to actually get pregnant, this is a decent approximate that's reasonable to buy and easily hidden. This is for nights after everyone else is in bed or you're home alone, and it can be a LOT of fun.

Great, now what do I do with it?

This is the end of the instructions and is more just ideas for some fantasy fulfillment. Feel free to drop your own ideas in replies or reblogs!

So something that sets this belly apart from just a pillow, or bunched up clothes under your shirt, is that it's very firm, and independently held against you. A pillow under your shirt is dependent on the shirt for structure. If you lift the shirt, pillow falls off. That is not the case here, so suddenly, you've unlocked the ability to put on too small clothes, or button ups, or robes, whatever, that's too small for you now, and can fuss and mess with it without affecting the stability of the belly. You can wear pants that don't button or simply bunch up under that heavy, firm underbelly. Hell, you can simulate getting dressed with a 20 lbs mass hanging off of you. Put on socks around this thing, it's the stuff of preg kink dreams!

Getting up and down, laying in bed and rolling over, the shit that's easy to do now, takes a LOT more effort all of the sudden. Again, I urge you not to lay flat on your back too much, because I did that while padding before bed, and woke up with some muscle aches centered on my tummy, in muscles that I hadn't used in god knows how long. Don't over exert yourself with this thing. I'm bringing this up a lot because I don't want anyone getting hurt.

Taking the stairs is nuts. Going up is way more effort, and going down feels almost hazardous as you wont have vision of your feet anymore.

If you're into the domesticity of pregnancy, try doing some household chores with this thing on! Loading a dishwasher, doing some laundry, maybe some tidying. I personally have found it weirdly exhilarating, waddling around loading the washing machine around this heavy bulk. Have fun bending over to pick up something you dropped!

Even just chilling and gaming with a lap full of heavy belly feels kind of new and exciting. When you're not used to it, even the mundane shit gets hotter with a tummy like this

That's about all I got. If someone else gets everything and tries this out, let me know your experiences with it and how you've improved it! I've had an ask suggest a weighted medicine ball, so that could also work if you have one you're willing to test out. Please enjoy, and share with your pregnancy loving mutuals! Thanks for reading!!!

#fake pregnant belly #ooc #weighted belly instructions

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weebsinstash · 11 months

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Ok so tmi (on the tmi blog lol) but the first day of my Cycle I had a dream that I had just given birth and I was holding my baby and I was goddamn euphoric even though the logical part of me was like “???? I am 22 and broke i CANNOT have a baby rn” and I woke up crying and called my friends like I WANNA HAVE A BAAAAAABYYYYY I WANT A BAAAAAAABYYYYYYYY so basically. Imagine. Miguel catches you in a moment of weakness. And he NEVER. FUCKING. FORGETS IT.

Oh wow girlie those period hormones grabbed you by the uterus and absolutely REFUSED to let go

NO BUT FOR REAL don't look at me but I've been thinking of a concerning number of ideas where it's like, "Reader suddenly realizes they may want a baby and is actually putting serious thought into it and Miguel finds out (bet your ass Peter B tells him, i can see him as a "well intentioned" platonic guardian/mentor figure who sells you out to Miguel the second he thinks you're doing something risky or he thinks it's for your own good) and Miguel starts making all these plans and preparations behind your back to have a baby with you" and obviously I like the extra juicy option of "he found out you got extremely depressed and tied your tubes or something because you either see no point in you having a kid/think it's too late, OR, Miguel was the only person you were looking at as a potential father and you either decide it wouldn't work out or he does something to hurt you and you lose trust in him" so like, the double whammy combo of him being hit with the news you basically walled off your fertility that he's kinda fantasizing about AND you blame him for it

You see him chokeslam Miles on the train and having all these serious anger and stress issues and you're like "hmmmm don't like that" and basically make the tubal ligation appointment that week (but, you know, he'll either interfere before you can actually get it or even reverse it later on)

Like. Ugh I'm not sure if I should go super into detail bc I feel like I want to put this scene in the YouTwo fic or in a different idea i have thats more centered around motherhood, but, picture he catches you in his monitor room one day after you've lost your home dimension, you're having a little more than just a small identity crisis, and he catches you having Lyla show you the model for your life, or what the algorithm had predicted your life was supposed to be like before your universe just magically poofed away. You're just staring at these holograms with tears running down your face and he occasionally catches you starting to reach out like you want to touch what you see. He comes to stop you because he already knows all too well where this could lead, you can't become tempted to break canon and go somewhere else, but you beg him to let you watch just a little longer

"I was supposed to get MARRIED! I was supposed to have a BABY! I was supposed to have a family!! It's not fair!!"

And he's in total agreement with you because, who even fucking knows why your universe suddenly destabilized and vanished. He sees you as this person who has so much promise and potential who had their destiny and future literally snatched away from them and now you're lost and confused on what you're supposed to do, like really he totally understands why you feel so aimless. But watching these holograms is like torturing yourself, and he goes to stop you when you just keep crying because this is basically sending you into a critical mental health episode

"Someone was supposed to fall in love with me... we were supposed to have a baby... would I have been a good mom? Would I have had a boy or a girl? Cant you at least let me find out what my daughter's name would have been?"

And it's like NOOOO you can't hit him with the daughter card, don't you see what you've DONE!!! Gets him right in the heart. Now he's got this massive soft spot for you, bigger than it already was anyways, and he can tell over time you're just really starting to, grieve the future you were supposed to have, falling into a depression. Peter B is hanging around with Mayday like he usually does as both men can tell you're really staring at his baby today and he offers to teach you how to hold her. you're standing there misty eyed twirling one of her little curls around your finger as her dad starts volunteering information to you, "you know she's about XYZ months old now, they aren't really talking yet at this age but they're really curious about their surroundings and--"

Miguel watches as you start talking about children and suddenly get this really really tortured expression and just say "it's not meant to happen" and or some combination of "it's too late for me" and gives him his baby back a little too quickly in typical "I am clearly leaving the room to go cry" fashion. Meanwhile Peter B is like 38 wondering why you think you're out of time or it's not supposed to happen

Miguel's working one day and Peter is trying to shove his phone in his face, "you know I think this is one of the BEST photos of Mayday I've ever taken, she's looking so cute here, you just GOTTA see it" and Pete just won't let up and Miguel finally looks just to humor him because the man is being unusually annoying and, it's a photo of Mayday, duh, but being held by you, and you're clearly looking down at her with watering eyes and the smallest little smile that says "I'll die for you" and Peter is just all 😏 as Miguel is 'suddenly' interested in the photo. "That's a really good photo of MAYDAY, right? 😏 I figured you would like it, that photo of MAYDAY 😏" and Miguel is just grumbling and grouchy bc he sees what this guy is tryna do, but he's still like ".... send it to me later, I'm trying to work right now"

It's even worse if you're a member of his strike force because you're constantly around him, Peter B, and Jess. Miguel just, idly wondering where you are and deciding to walk around a little bit and eventually finds that you're having some sort of conversation with Peter B and Jess and he can tell you look really weepy as the other woman invites you to feel her baby kicking, like, you could not more obviously be developing baby fever, and you ARE around that age, and ESPECIALLY if you live in Nueva York because it's like, YEAH you're still a Spider and YEAH you help the Society with stuff but. Your home universe is gone, your canon is gone, you're kind of. Free as a bird really? But you're also scared because, if someone was destined to love you, does that mean it technically isn't meant to be to fall for anyone else? You can't exactly hook up with people at the Spider Society because of canon or them already having relationships, and you don't exactly have identifying documents if you wanted to try and adopt

I think it'd really reach a stressful breaking point if you and the strike force go to another universe to fight an anomaly and Miguel catches you staring out into the crowd of people you just saved and he sees what youre looking at instantly and his heart sinks. Another you, another normal you, never bitten by a Spider, is standing there with her husband and her little sputtering baby, and he has to all but drag you away as you cry "it's not fair, it's not fair, why does SHE get a normal life!!"

Sidebar for a moment, I think that's probably also one thing that would be so INFURIATING about the doppelganger stealing your life story because THEY have a home universe and YOU don't. They take your life, they take literally everything you have left, your friends, your sense of community, your literal purpose. I've already decided on YTs motivations but could you imagine you finding out YouTwo actually has a decent life and maybe even a husband and kid of their own and you're just furious because they're basically abandoning their duties back home not only as a Spider but as a parent/spouse to steal what YOU have? You can't kill them because it would break their canon and kill like countless people but Miguel and the others would def let you beat the shit out of your evil double and get some of your anger out. Like. Jesus could you imagine Miguel kicks you out thinking you're the fake and after you're gone, YouTwo breaks canon and that's what exposes them, or theyre exposed when they eventually take a trip back home and get caught. The Society's regret, the guilt, the anger, just marinate me with the drama

But anyways back to Being Sad and Babycrazy, you go missing one day and Miguel has to decide what to do when he finally tracks your bracelet and you're back in THAT dimension again. He has to physically track you down using your bracelet's signal because you refuse to answer his messages and you're, in the home of the other you while she takes a brief nap, in the nursery, holding her baby. Miguel quietly climbs through the window and you're in a rocking chair and you've got her hugged to your chest and your eyes are closed and you sense him and, obviously cry because you know you have to leave. Unlike with the holograms he doesn't give you any leeway on this, putting his foot down that this has to end here, this cant go on, this is already so dangerous. And, you're good for him and understand, leaving the baby back in its crib as you and Miguel warp away. You're heartbroken but ultimately understanding when he has to disable your watch's ability to visit that specific dimension again, and you're obviously extremely depressed for a while, having multiple Spiders coming to check in on you as word spreads around that you aren't doing well

I can just see Reader becoming kind of desperate because the only options for a baby you really have left is to either 1. get a serious relationship, which you're scared of because you have to trust that person and who can you even pick, you're nervous about breaking canon or something, or 2. Get some random person to impregnate you so you can run off with the baby

Miguel gets a call from Peter B that you went to a bar and you're EXTREMELY wasted as you try to pick someone, ANYONE up and like, you have admirers for sure but there's enough decent people around to keep the creeps in line, clearly you are in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Miguel gets to tote your drunken ass back home as you drunkenly word vomit all your feelings to him because, unfortunately for you, he has your trust, and you need comfort right now, and you even ask him about what being a parent was like for him. You encouragingly tell him he shouldn't give up if he still wants kids, you trying to be genuinely nice and not trying to imply anything, blubbering about how he deserves to still be happy and he's still got time, and here's Miguel who's practically tracking your cycles at this point, TOTALLY not going to use anything you say to him while you're piss-drunk against you

Especially if you add ABO into the mix and you have a Miguel who's either Alpha/Omega and is already babycrazy af and he sees you literally fucking YEARNING for it, like. You've got a 6'9" Alpha basically looking at you, his poor lil Omega crush, with the big yandere goo goo eyes and how you need all this love and support and stability and how you're in need of a proper husband and of course he's all too willing to volunteer himself for the job. Even if he's too awkward to come right out to you and say it, he'll be thinking in his head and planning behind your back ways to take care of you, keep you away from any drugs/alcohol (no more smoking weed with metro boomin Spiderman, you've gotta detox your body to have a baby! Also, different concept but, Miguel basically keeping you in a bubble to control all your meals and recreational activities and all of that so he can make sure you're perfectly healthy for a baby)

Don't let this man catch you slipping up! Throw you to the Spider Society and you'll come back pregnant 😭 he sees you so depressed and wanting a baby and it's like well, if your life needs new meaning, he can help literally make one for you 😏 he's been feeling protective and nurturing of you anyways, so, it's an extra benefit for him to think of getting to have both you AND a little baby of your very own ❤️

#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spidereverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff #godddd listening to light the city up reallt gets me hyped

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rapz-rites · 6 months

Text

Ma Belle Chérie

Damian Wayne x influencer!book lover!Reader

If someone was to look up a bookworm a picture of you would appear. 3 times you chose your books over Damian. 1 time Damian was your only priority (yes Damian is a priority, but not without a good book in hand)

A/N: Requested by @vivi-iiis-blog

The title is French and it translates to “my beautiful darling”. At first, it was supposed to be “ma belle fille” but if you put it in a translator it might give you my daughter in law…

Word Count: 1.9K

Warning(s): Reader not putting Damian first, kissing, flirting in public

You were a popular influencer. All your followers knew you loved books. They would often say “If Y/N was a Disney princess, she’d be Belle”

1st time

You were extremely into the book you were currently reading. It was a popular romance book you saw on BookTok, so you obviously had to get it and read it.

You were reading your book in Damian’s bed as you waited for Damian to get home from patrol. You hadn’t even noticed Damian coming in and changing out of his uniform. Usually, he would change in the locker room in the BatCave, but whenever you would spend the night he’d change in his bathroom.

Damian entered his room calling your name several times, but no response. He noticed you immersed in your book on his bed, so he decided to continue his nightly routine and then return to you.

You didn’t realize Damian was even back from patrol until you felt an arm around your waist. You looked down from your book to Damian trying to cuddle into you.

“Why don’t you put your book down and cuddle with me Beloved,” Damian said softly as he brought himself closer to you.

“Let me finish this page first,” you replied to his offer. Damian hummed in response knowing it was going to take more than one page.

After several pleas and several ‘one more page’s, Damian gave up. When you were done you would cuddle with him, awake or not.

“Ok, I’m done. I’m ready to-” you stopped at the site of your boyfriend sleeping peacefully. You smiled at him softly. Putting your book on the nightstand, you cuddle back into Damian as you drift to sleep.

2nd time

You and Jason connect over your interests in books. Often when you would come over and Damian wasn’t there you and Jason would have discussions based on books you’ve both read.

Sometimes you two would pick a book and after about 2 weeks you two would meet up again and talk about it. Sometimes you two would read a book and watch the show/movie based on it.

“Elena and Katherine are blonde in the books though,” Jason started. He was pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair.

“I know that Jason. I read the book too. But let’s be honest Katherine is better as a brunette than a blonde. It fits her personality in the show way more.”

Neither of you realized that Damian was leaning against the doorway until you turned around in frustration at Jason’s stubbornness. You smiled at him, but Jason spoke before you could greet him.

“You’re right,” he stated. You turned to look at him

“Of course she’s right,” Damian said, drawing attention to himself. “Now if you’re both done I’d like to spend time with my girlfriend.”

You smiled sweetly at him. You loved it when he called you his girl or girlfriend to other people. You didn’t know why but it always brought butterflies to your stomach.

“I think it’s Nina Dobrev,” Jason continued, completely ignoring Damian’s request.

“After this, I promise,” you whispered as you kissed Damian on his cheek. Even though he didn’t show it, he couldn’t believe it. You were choosing to talk to Jason over spending time with him.

“It has to be,” Jason whispered to himself, still pacing back and forth.

“I would have liked to see angel Elena though.”

“ME TOO!”

3rd time

You didn’t go live all that often but when you did, your fans went crazy. So crazy, sometimes after the time was up, you started a new live immediately after. This time was no different. People were checking in 100 at a time. After 5 minutes there were about 11.7k watching.

“Oh my gosh. I haven’t been on live in a fat minute. But guys you have to understand I started reading this series and I haven’t been able to put it down,” you say walking around your kitchen. You walked away to get your supplies for baking. Once you returned you saw tons of comments coming through.

“Where’s Marshmallow?” You whispered as you read the comments.

“YOU KNOW WHAT” you started to yell, waving the spatula in your hand around. You had this serious demeanor to you. “That dog is SO FAKE. I took her with me when I went to see Damian yesterday, and when it was time to go she didn’t want to leave and acted like she didn’t know me. LIKE I'M YOUR MOM”

“I am your mother, you listen to me,” Stephanie started to sing in the background. You laughed at her and your viewers found it funny too.

“Curly fries or waffle fries?” Steph asked, reading a comment someone sent. “Waffles of course. They’re just so much better”

You continued talking to your fans and replying to their comments. Eventually, you ended up playing ‘this or that’ with them. Stephanie read the comments so you could answer as you continued to bake. Some were a simple choice and others had you stumped.

“OMG here’s a good one,” Steph started. “Read the twisted series again for the first time or marry Damian”

You let out a gasp as you froze in place. You place the bowl of icing down on the counter and put your hands to your face.

“Oh my gosh. You guys can’t ask me things like that. ” Now you were pacing back and forth. “I’m about to say something you guys can NEVER repeat. Not even to your pastor in confessionals.”

Once you said that people were going crazy in the comments.

Y/nsbooks: oh this is gonna be good

GingerJT: I can’t wait to hear what he’s gonna say

Emswrld: I think we all should already know her answer 😭😭

“I love Damian, I really do but I’m gonna have to pick the Twisted Series. YOU GUYS BETTER NOT TELL HIM.”

Well, you didn’t have to worry about someone telling Damian. Especially if he was watching your live the entire time off of Jason’s secret Instagram, GingerJT.

Damian 1st

You wanted everything to be perfect for Damian’s birthday. Every year, since living in Gotham, he’s had a birthday gala. This year you wanted to plan a nice intimate surprise party for him the night before.

The week of the surprise party you were extremely busy making sure everything was perfect. You invited everyone in advance(minus Bart or else he would spoil it, so you told him the day of), booked the venue, ordered decorations, and got him a gift you thought he would love.

That same week Damian thought something was wrong and you were sick. He didn’t see you with a single book once. He even took a peek into your bag and saw not one book, you usually have at least 2.

“Are you feeling ok Beloved?” Damian asked, touching your face. He was checking if you had a fever.

“I’m fine,” you chuckle, removing his hands from your face. You kiss his cheek before you get ready to leave. “I have to go to my appointment. I’ll text you later.”

Damian had a feeling something was up but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It was currently the day before Damian’s birthday. You had asked him to hang out, and of course, he couldn’t say no. He would never say no to spending time with you. You even managed to convince him to spend the night so you guys could head to the gala together. Little did he know he was falling into a trap. A trap called a surprise party.

You took Damian out for most of the day, doing the majority of his favorite things. You need to give everyone enough time to set the place up. If you and Damian ran into someone, that would mess things up.

The town you took Damian to was about an hour away. There was this animal reserve you thought Damian would love. You learned after your 3rd date that he hated zoos. Though he loved animals, he absolutely hated zoos. He thought them to be prisons for the animals.

Afterward, you two went out and did other things that Damian enjoyed. Now, you both were sitting in the car in a comfortable silence. Damian was following the GPS to his final “surprise”. You secretly messaged everyone to check to make sure everything was in place. Everything was and they were just waiting for you guys to arrive. It took less than an hour to arrive.

Once Damian stopped the car you hopped out to take the lead. Leading Damian into the building, it was dark. Neither of you could see.

“Beloved it’s dark. You should turn on the lights.”

“Right,” you said as you reached for the light switch. Once you flicked the lights everyone jumped out and yelled SURPRISE. You looked over to see your boyfriend smiling as people crowded around him wishing him happy birthday.

You watched happily as Damian interacted with everyone. His siblings and other hero’s his age were here. Even his friends from GA. Damian would never admit it because “they’re just the most tolerable people in his life”.

The party ended around 12 and you and Damian arrived at your place around 12:30. After getting ready for bed, you and Damian got comfortable and cuddled in your room.

“OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT,” you yelled hopping out of Damian’s embrace. He was confused as you hurried out of the room and returned not even a minute later. Now there was a box in your hand, wrapped in a dark green paper with a black bow on top. You got back into bed and handed the box to him.

“I told you you didn’t have to get me anything Beloved”

“I know but I wanted to,” you responded, ushering him to open the gift. You watched excitedly as he gently opened the gift. After opening the box, Damian picked up the book that was in it. It looked like any other classical literature, minus the two swords embedded on the front cover. Damian turned the box over to look at the spine. And there it was, his name, in Arabic.

Damian turned to look at you. All you did was nod at the book signaling him to open it. After silently reading a few pages, he stopped and hugged you, tackling you on the bed and peppering your face with kisses.

“So you like it?”

“You wrote me a book. Of course I love it!” He said and he continued kissing your face. You laughed. You held Damian’s face in your hands before giving him a kiss on the lips.

Damian held your hand as you stepped out of the black vehicle. A gorgeous dress clung to your body. Emerald matching the accents in Damian’s suit.

“Is it too late to go back? We can watch whatever movie you pick” you whispered as you and Damian walked down the red carpet. You both stopped for a picture. Instinctively, you both smile and Damian puts a hand on your waist.

“You say that every time. You need to come up with something more convincing” Damian smirks at you. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, a photographer interrupts, “Damian, are you enjoying your birthday this year?”

“How can I not? Have the most amazing girlfriend.”

“Not as amazing as what’s underneath this dress,” you whisper into Damian's ear. He visibly goes red and you just smile at the photographers unfazed at what you just said.

“We’re leaving after an hour” Damian whispers back into your ear after processing what you just said. And with that he takes your hand, walking you inside the building. Smiling ear to ear, you bid the photographers goodbye.

WOOO! What was something alright. In so sorry for not posting in months but school comes first 😭 But I hope you guys enjoy this as I’m now going to try to write more often and in working on requests now.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #requests #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #batfam x reader #batfam #dcu #dcau

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silvergreenseraphim · 7 months

Text

Angeal and Sephiroth (And Genesis?)—Dissidia Opera Omnia—Part One

Alright, so this chapter was a lot, and it opened with Weiss quoting “Loveless” for a reason, it seems.

“When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end, the goddess descends from the sky! Wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss…her gift everlasting!”

Weiss becomes our voice for Genesis, or his “brother,” in this chapter. When Seymour questions his quote, Weiss replies,

“It was a passage from a story our brother loved. He used to quote it for his best friend. That friend was Sephiroth, the hero and friend of the other “brother,” Angeal as well.”

This part was hard to translate into English, but Weiss essentially explains that Genesis used to quote Loveless for his close friend, Sephiroth, the hero, and Angeal was right there with them as the third friend in the trio.

Seymour is shocked and gasps, “Sephiroth and Angeal were best friends??”

Weiss replies, “It’s hard to believe of the now-evil “hero” that never reveals his heart. And yet, the exemplary First Class soldier that is a role model for everyone was his friend.”

I am on the fence about the translation of this part and may change it once my friend gets back to me, but for now, it seems like Weiss is pondering the friendship of Sephiroth and Angeal and how differently they turned out, because Seymour does make a comment like, “I suppose if you have dreams and honor, you can’t go wrong.”

But there is potentially more here that Weiss is saying about his own relationship to Sephiroth and Angeal—perhaps suggesting he is not their friend and doesn’t quite understand their past relationship himself. I will have to keep researching.

We cut to Sephiroth again, who is confused about his memory returning. He says he didn’t expect any memories to return from the Lifestream, but shakes his head and denial. He claims these memories Angeal brought back are unnecessary and that he most remove Angeal from the picture immediately. His motives are set.

Meanwhile, Zack and Angeal are talking about how Sephiroth changed. I translated this on Altocat’s blog and here is what they say:

Zack says,

“Angeal, I know you’re surprised…I can’t believe that Sephiroth changed like that…

Angeal replies,

“So, you were taken aback as well…”

Zack says,

“It was out of nowhere. We went to investigate Cloud and Tifa’s village…and I guess he discovered his origins. He killed everyone and burned down the village. He had always been the hero I strived to be…”

Zack and Angeal are both very crestfallen here, lamenting this knowledge. Angeal pulls himself together and says,

“I know…I’m disappointed too. Everything changed while I was gone, I guess.

Angeal further laments that he wasn’t there, and Zack reassures him that even though Angeal disappeared at the time and pushed everyone away, Zack would have stayed by his side and helped. Zack would have left Shinra, and he says he is sure Sephiroth felt the same way.

Angeal thanks his student but says that it was his choice and lonely path at the time—he had to carry the responsibility as a First Class soldier. Zack chastises him saying he shouldn’t think that way—after all, Zack is a First Class as well, and has enough experience. He could have helped Angeal. Angeal begins to reply, saying, “Zack…” but then they are interrupted by the others.

They say it’s time to make a decision about Sephiroth, and Cloud explains that the silver boi is planning to turn the world into an empty vessel that he may sail the cosmos with in order to find another world. An Advent Children reference, of course.

Rufus mentions that this goal is very similar to the desire of Jenova. He has to then explain what Jenova is to the other characters, as well as the Reunion theory.

This makes a lightbulb go off in Angeal’s head and he gasps, “So basically…Sephiroth is Jenova?”

He puts it together that Reunion implies that Jenova’s cells must be drawn back to their source, and since that source is currently Sephiroth, they must be the same.

However, the others simply say that Sephiroth/Jenova must be eliminated, and agree to hunt him down. Everyone nods and moves forward except Angeal, who lingers with hesitation.

In the next part, they are in the process of tracking Sephiroth, but the group notices Angeal’s troubled demeanor. They ask him if he’s okay and Kadaj says that he heard about Sephiroth being Angeal’s good friend. He says that it must be disheartening to see Sephiroth in his current state, since nothing is like it used to be.

Angeal notes Kadaj’s own tone of disappointment and Kadaj explains how Sephiroth used him as a puppet to find Jenova’s remains, which horrifies Kadaj because if Sephiroth and Jenova are the same, then his own “mother” used and betrayed him in such a way.

Angeal encourages Kadaj and gives him one of his classic pep talks, appealing to his usual “dreams and honor” code. Tifa notes that Zack often spoke the same way, prompting Angeal to recall teaching Zack all those things.

In response to Kadaj, he then says he was indeed surprised by hearing what Sephiroth did, but he says that,

“Sephiroth had his honor once too…and he has a tendency to hold onto things, so even if I am surprised, I can’t abandon him…”

The others say that they aren’t sure if Angeal’s words can reach Sephiroth, who was cruel enough to destroy Tifa and Cloud’s village. Tifa agrees as she recalls how she begged Sephiroth to explain why he did what he did, but she does say to Angeal that she believes he could have a better chance.

She kindly compliments him on how his “dreams and honor” philosophy had helped her as well. :,)

She encourages Angeal, saying that his words will surely be a beacon and that he should try to speak with Sephiroth again. Angeal hangs his head sorrowfully and agrees, saying,

“I don’t want to give up on him….so I’ll try as hard as I can…”

—

This is a good place to stop because the next chapters are where everything gets chaotic, but for now, we have some build-up for what Angeal wants to do, and for Weiss being a stand-in for Genesis later.

—

Some little notes:

The Zack and Angeal scenes were very sweet, as Zack wants to convince his old mentor to stop shouldering everything alone. Angeal’s absolute refusal to give up on Seph tugs at the heartstrings too, and I find it so sweet that Tifa actually encouraged him.

The “Sephiroth is Jenova” point is fascinating, but I believe we will soon find that Seph’s own will is blended into Jenova’s, as they are aligned, and this might be what reveals to Angeal that there may not be much hope for his old friend. :(

I am struggling with the Weiss and Seymour discussion, and this has been one of the parts that has slowed me down, because the context is hard to decipher, but I suspect that Weiss is comparing Sephiroth and Angeal to the figures in Loveless, which also becomes relevant later. I will update as soon as I can get an explanation from my Japanese friend. I am not skilled enough to decipher everything yet on my own, you see. 😅

But enjoy this for now, and I will be back with more soon! <3

#dissidia opera omnia #japanese translation #my translations #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #sephiroth #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #weiss #kadaj #zack fair #tifa lockhart #cloud strife #jenova #rufus shinra

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galedekarios · 6 months

Note

I always come to your blog for the devnote deets so I'm curious if you know what causes the ORI_Gale_State_WillingToDie flag to be True or False for Gale? It comes up in so many dialog files but I'm totally unsure how it actually triggers

from what i could gather it depends on which options you pick during gale's last night alive scene / act ii romance scene.

there are several options the player can take that have a flag called 'ORI_Gale_Event_PushTowardsDeath'.

these are all options that encourage to make the ultimate sacrifice on mystra's instructions / don't actively discourage him:

Player: You're right. At least this way, you might take the Absolute down with you. [Gale gets pushed one step towards death] Gale: I can only hope that there are few innocents within the Absolute's reach, when the time comes... and that you will seek safety, far away from me. Gale: Stay with me a while, will you? Day will come all too soon, even in this place. Player: I'm not going anywhere, Gale. I'll be by your side, whatever dawn brings.

Player: You speak as if this affects you alone. How many will die if you unleash what's inside you? [Gale gets pushed one step towards death] Gale: Fewer than if the Absolute goes unchecked. I don't want to kill, and I don't want to die... but inaction will lead to bloodshed all the same.

there's an opposing flag set to this, which is ORI_Gale_Event_PushAwayFromDeath and it's tied to the following option:

Gale: There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms.devnote Player: Nothing is inevitable. Not when we face it together. You don't have to die. [Gale gets pushed one step away from death]

the flag that gets set here (ORI_Gale_Event_PushTowardsDeath) is what will later trigger the ORI_Gale_State_WillingToDie and ORI_Gale_State_EagerToDie to be set and it's already apparent in the follow-up conversation after the act ii romance scene / last night alive scene:

Gale: I was hoping to speak to you, as a matter of fact. About the night you were kind enough to keep this melancholy wizard company... Player: Go on. Gale: I suppose one might say I'm rather adrift, to be honest. Since our conversation, I'd resigned myself to my fate. Each day bore the possibility of being my last, and I accepted it. Gale: I'm only standing here now because I failed, to put it in rather blunt terms. Mystra is unlikely to let me try again. Yet, even in spite of that - I'm glad to have more time with you. Since you still have me, was there anything else on your mind?

there are quite a few options that reflect that mental state in gale as well. i've added a few here, but there are more:

Gale: The Absolute should be a thing of the past, and I with it...

Gale: I always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. This wasn't quite what I pictured. Gale: I thought we'd be in Waterdeep. You, curled up before a roaring hearth while I prepared us a ridiculously extravageant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce. Gale: I fear mine is a dream for another life. But a fine one nonetheless. Gale: As for this one, I think we've still got a world to save. Unless there's anything else? - Player: It's a date. Gale: I can hardly wait. devnote: Gale still intends to blow himself up. He knows he'll never make the date.

Player: How are you feeling? Gale: Trying not to think about what lies ahead, if I'm being honest. I'd have hoped to spend our final moments together somewhere more romantic, but it seems we won't have much of a say in the matter.

Gale: I regret many things in my life. Choosing to be here, intact and unexploded, is not one of them. Devnote/NoteContext: Trying to convince himself a bit here, he knows he 'should' have killed himself

Gale: When the time comes for the orb to fulfil its purpose, I will think of only one thing: Your face. Nothing else will matter.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tav x gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #text: asks #tw sui ideation

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atsvmi · 1 year

Text

Isagi’s Interlude

“I wish I wasn’t famous/ I wish I was still in school/ So that I could have you in my dorm room/ I would put it on you crazy” - Cece’s Interlude, Drake

✿ tags: minors dni, 18+ content, pro!Isagi, fem!reader (called good girl, wears a skirt, has cleavage, etc.), established relationship, mention of an age difference (reader is older than Isagi, both are in their 20s), consensual audio recording, role play (university students), switch!Isagi, switch!reader, oral (male receiving), humping, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity but neither is a virgin, purity kink, corruption kink (?), one mention of a spoiler, tbh i think this is pwp but idk

✿ wc: 3.5k

✿ a/n: the time has come that i officially am no longer catfishing as a writing blog🥳 please clap. also, this is my first time writing smut so please be kind<3

“Do you think we’d still date if we knew each other when we were in school?”

Your question is a random but welcomed conversation as you both work to reset your shared kitchen after dinner, you wash as he dries. In the seconds between the next clean dish, he pauses to consider his answer, before choosing to reach for low-hanging fruit.

“Do you mean high school? If so then...I hope not,” he finally answers. He can’t help but laugh as you fling the excess water and soap from your fingers onto him in indignation.

“No, I didn’t mean fucking high school. And quit making me seem like a fucking cradle robber, asshole.” You’ve been together long enough that the four-year age difference between the two of you is little more than a fun fact and a harmless joke at times. He can sense your annoyance is mostly for show but he chooses not to push any further.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between chuckles, fending himself from the assault of suds. Again he pauses to really think about what could’ve been. What would he have studied? Would he manage to get into a university with a good team? How would you manage to cross paths? He realizes it’s hard to consider anything when he doesn’t know much about your own school experience outside of the anecdotal stories you’ve told him.

“Tell me what you were like in school first.”

You resume washing the dishes, multitasking as you answer him.

“Um…pretty lame honestly. I wrote for the school’s newspaper. I wasn’t super active on campus but that made me get out there more than I would’ve on my own. But I did go to some parties.”

He lets your answer sink in.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve still got along. You don’t sound like you were much different from now so I don’t see why not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your lips turn slightly up, pleased with his answer. Cute.

“Do you ever think about your life if things turned out differently? Like if Blue Lock never happened?”

He can’t say he has. Blue Lock changed his life on its head completely, it’s hard to imagine things working out any differently. Tada and the others he went to school with were freshly graduated, at least according to their social media updates, so he supposes he would be too. Yet still, it’s hard to think about something so different than today.

“I dunno. I can’t really picture it. Actually, I don’t even want to. If I didn’t go to Blue Lock then who knows if I’d ever get the chance to play the soccer I want to. I’d probably never get to play professionally either.” He lets his train of thought wander, eventually realizing that without playing professionally, who knows if he’d ever cross paths with you. He buries the thought before it can even fully form and upset himself in the process.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you conclude as you hand him the final dish. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Can you just finish up here by sweeping?”

He nods in the affirmative, which you thank with a kiss that just misses his lips before leaving in the direction of the bedroom. Left with only his thoughts he can’t help but think a bit more about what could’ve been.

Obviously, he’d continue playing soccer as long as possible. Sure his high school team wasn’t amazing, but maybe through tryouts he’d end up at a decent enough school. And he’s always liked art class. Maybe he would’ve tried to pursue a fine arts degree? Or physical therapy to help athletes just in case soccer really didn’t pan out. But what then? For someone who’s built an entire soccer career around the ability to visualize a scenario, he really can’t help but to draw a blank.

Distracted by being in his own head, finishing around the kitchen takes longer than usual. When he finally manages to make his way to your shared room, he just manages to hear the sink’s water turn off, a sign that you’re at the tail end of your nightly routine.

He turns down the bed, first removing the many throw pillows you insist are necessary (a mild point of contention in his opinion. After all, what good is a pillow you’re not even allowed to lay on?) and then making himself comfortable using the “sleeping pillows” to prop himself up against the headboard, occupying himself by scrolling on the phone while he waits for you to make your way to bed. Despite it being the off-season he’s scheduled to meet with a trainer to maintain his conditioning so an early night is in order.

The click of the bathroom door opening draws his eyes but more importantly, what you’ve decided to wear to bed has his full attention.

“Baby, you look-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Is this still a good time for the interview?”

“Interview?”

He’s never been so confused in his life. And even worse, he can’t even dedicate half of his mind to start to comprehend what you’re playing at when he’s busy eyeing you from head to toe. The only thing on his mind is the oversized replica of his Bastard München jersey you’ve tied at your waist and the shortest skirt he’s ever seen. If he were to turn you around he’s sure that it’d cover absolutely nothing he’s sure a skirt is meant to. But even more captivating is the pair of thigh highs that indent into your skin the same way his fingers do when he-

“Yes? The post-game interview. I was hoping to get a quote for the paper from the player that scored the winning goal.”

“Uhh…” Is the most intelligent answer he can muster as he watches you climb onto the bed with a pad of paper and pen in hand. The size of the jersey only frames your cleavage as it gapes open thanks to gravity. Eventually, you make yourself comfortable, legs tucked under you and pen poised to take notes of his response.

“Is it ok if I record this,” you ask, sliding your phone on the nightstand, voice recorder rolling once he manages a stiff nod of his head. You continue. “So what were you thinking in that last play? It was pretty amazing if I say so myself.”

“Winning goal?” He should feel embarrassed by the way he can’t pull his eyes from your legs but the slither of skin between where your skirt ends and the socks begin is calling his name. It’s like he’s in high school again the way he can feel the blood rush from his head. Only your groan of annoyance gives him the strength to meet your eyes again.

“Babe, it’s called role play,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in some ways, it is.

“Right. Role play.” A beat passes. “What exactly are the roles we’re playing?”

The look you give him makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Obviously, you’re the star of our university’s soccer team and I am the reporter assigned to cover the season. You just scored the championship goal. Aaaand scene,” you drop your pen and paper to clap for extra effect and then grab both again, poised and ready for his answer.

Truthfully, he can hardly keep up with your antics but that’s never stopped him from trying. He’s had enough practice managing eccentric personalities from the cast of characters Blue Lock managed to put together so this is nothing but a cakewalk. The fact he’s in love with you only makes your idiosyncrasies endearing.

“Right.” He clears his throat, buying time. “I try to keep a cool head and focus on the field whenever I’m playing. A championship game doesn’t change that.”

You scratch something down on the notepad before continuing.

“And how do you feel now that you’ve won?”

“It’s a big achievement to win the championship for the school, and even more so to be the one to finish the game. I just hope to do even better next year.”

This time you jot away a bit longer, leaving his attention to wander back to your outfit. He reaches out a hand to appreciate the getup, running his hand up your knee to just under the hem of your skirt.

“Mr. Isagi you seem pretty distracted. Are you sure this is still a good time?”

“Call me Yoichi”. He doesn’t move his hand away when he answers.

Again you put down your props, seemingly for good as they rest next to your phone.

“I suppose this is probably too boring of a celebration for a star player like yourself. I should probably let you go back to the team for a proper congratulations. I’m sure you have quite the fan club waiting for you.”

“I doubt it. I’ve never been that popular.”

With that, you scoot closer, letting your legs fall open so that he can get the slightest glimpse between your legs if your skirt were to ride up even the slightest centimeter.

“That sounds doubtful. Who wouldn’t want a chance with Isagi Yoichi? Ace of the soccer team. Handsome and nice to boot.”

Despite complimenting his personality, your attention is focused on his physique, eyes roaming across his body appreciatively. He doesn’t fail to notice that you linger a second longer where the sheets have started to tent.

“Do you think it’d be ok if I properly congratulated you,” you ask, resting a hand on the sheet, ready to pull it away at a moment’s notice. You both have a healthy sex life, both well accustomed to initiating, but it’s rare for you to be so forward. He might pass out if you wait any longer to touch him.

“Congratulations? What did you have in mind?” Is all he can get out, forcing you to get straight to the point.

“Let me suck your cock. As a congratulations on a job well done.” Your hand cups his length through both the layers of the sheet, his joggers, and underwear, but he swears he could still cum with the slightest amount of friction he’s so wound up.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.” He’s near breathless, he wants you so badly.

Not a second is wasted before you have him bare from the waist down. He completes the look by pulling his shirt over his head, throwing the offending article wherever it chooses to land. All the while, you shimmy yourself down between his legs. Sure he’s the one fully naked but the eroticism of the sight before him already has him on the brink of cumming.

His name emblazoned between your shoulder blades is something he still has yet to learn to be normal about, but more than that, he finds that he was right about your skirt not covering an inch of your backside. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to perfectly frame the curve of your ass since you’ve apparently decided to forego underwear.

“Fuck me,” he gets out in only a puff of air.

“In due time, Mr. Yoichi,” is all you offer before kissing the mushroom tip, smearing the precum that’s collected on your lips, and then swallowing all that will comfortably fit in your mouth. It takes all the strength he can muster to not instinctively buck into you but he can’t hide the deep groan that comes out involuntarily as he meets the entrance of your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Always so good,” he offers as he bundles your hair into his fist, slowly guiding you up and down his length. The praise leads you to moan around him, getting him even closer to the brink of cumming.

To get a better view he props himself up on one shaky arm, massaging all that he can reach, as you use your other hand to fondle his balls. Mere minutes pass before he starts to feel the familiar pit of pleasure begin to grow in his belly and it takes all his willpower to pull you off of him before he cums from the added stimulation. It’s next to a miracle that he manages to hold off even after he’s pulled you off once he sees the thick strings of saliva that still connect the two of you.

“I wasn’t done yet,” you have the audacity to pout.

“I didn’t want to cum yet,” he answers. Even to his own ears, he sounds debauched.

While still catching his breath he pulls you close, encouraging you to straddle him. You do and let out quiet moans as you rut your bare pussy against his length. Despite being so close to cumming before, he’s happy to let you do as you please. When your legs eventually tire, he switches to using both hands on your waist to manhandle you the way he knows you like.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He can’t get enough of your sounds, no matter how small. To see how much of a mess you’re making he flips the front of your skirt, his tip coming in and out of view as he rocks you back and forth.

“So good, Yoichi. Your hands feel so good.”

He knows it’s not enough to get you off, that you need more. Eventually, he stops, pulling you down so that your chests meet. If you really want to role play, he figures he should get into the role he’s been assigned.

“Is there more to my award,” he asks, hands roaming under the jersey and under your skirt. There’s nowhere his hands don’t explore while he waits for your answer.

“W-what more do you want?”

He moves his right hand so that it’s between your bodies, spreading your pussy lips so that he can fully appreciate the wetness that’s accumulated. He uses his full palm to rub your clit while he answers.

“You said you’d fuck me in due time, yeah? Or were you all talk?”

“Um…about that.” Your eyes are fluttering, struggling to stay open and focus on his words. He feels like he’s on top of the world seeing how he can ruin you. “I have to t-tell you something.”

“I’m listening baby.” His voice is muffled as he leaves kisses across your neck and cheeks. Anywhere he can reach while you still use him to get off.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your eyes meet.

The proverbial record scratches and again he’s confused.

“What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?” Sure you both have busy schedules but there’s no way this is new to either of you. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t be more than a week since he had you in this exact position-

“I was a virgin when I got to college,” you whisper directly in his ear.

Again you have the upper hand as it feels like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice. The feeling only lasts a second though before it feels like every nerve lights up once he connects that this is still a part of the scene you’ve conjured. Oh.

The idea of you as a virgin has never crossed his mind once until this very moment. Given the age you were when you met, he had no reason to give it consideration. It’s not like he was even a virgin when you met. He makes a mental note to do some soul-searching later to find out why he’s rock hard and nearly brought back to the brink of cumming at the mere idea.

“Do…do you want to keep going?”

You laugh. A full out belly laugh.

“Yoichi, you're so cute. Only you would still be so considerate even in a fantasy.”

If all the blood in his body wasn’t occupied he’d probably blush at your teasing.

“I fucking love you,” you emphasize with a kiss. “Yes, I want to continue.”

Not another word is needed before he’s fully plunged back into the world you’ve created. No, he's never thought about you as a virgin but now that the seed has been planted he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Within a breath, he’s switched your positions, now with you on your back and him pulling your legs onto his lap as he sits above you.

“Tell me if anything is too much, ok?” He preambles before he sucks both his ring and middle fingers, slowly pushing in one finger, then the other when he deems you ready.

Now that you’re fully on display for him he can’t help but stare. Again, the skirt hides absolutely nothing but he does push the jersey so that your tits are on display for him as well. Seeing you dressed but so exposed has his head swimming.

“You’re so pretty. Prettiest thing I’ve seen on campus.” If he’s going to play along, then he might as well go all out.

He bends at the waist to take in one tit, using his tongue to lick at and bite your nipple, before turning his attention to the other all the while he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers into you.

“Yoichi, please. I need you,” you whine.

He takes pity on you and moves from your chest and back up to your lips, kissing you deeply. God, he’s so in love with you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were good and ready. I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“I promise I’m ready.”

“Ok, ok. I hear you. But can you do me a favor and clean my fingers for me?”

As soon as his request hits his ears your mouth falls open in a way that can only be described as obedient. He lets you suck at both his fingers until he removes them himself, the way your tongue slips between them turning him on all the more.

“So good for me. I really am a lucky guy, huh?” He watches you preen under his praise as he reaches next to your head for an extra pillow, lifting your hips to situate it underneath you.

“Ok, if you need me to stop just tell me, ok? For any reason.” You nod your head yes.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Yoichi. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He locks his hand in yours before he finally presses into you, both of you moaning as he works his hips into you. It’s a fantasy, sure, but he’s as mindful as he can be to be slow and let you get accustomed to him, even if it’s far from your first times, or even 48 hours since he last fucked you.

He’s captivated by the way your mouth falls open as he fucks into you. It’s familiar but entrances him every time. When you give the go ahead he increases his pace, working at that spot he knows gets you there the fastest.

“More, need more,” and he knows exactly what you need, licking his thumb before rubbing against your clit in tight circles. It’s only through time and experience that he knows exactly how to work your body, confirmed by the way you babble his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel so good, so tight. Can feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah. Gonna cum for you. So fucking close.” You’re wrecked.

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command, him meeting your waiting mouth. It’s barely a kiss as you can hardly meet his mouth between your moans but he swallows them all dutifully. It’s when your back arches and you fall near silent beside one final cry of his name does he know that you’re cumming. He pulls away to watch you fall apart.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Let it out for me.” The vice around his cock makes it difficult to fuck you through your orgasm but he powers through. Only once you relax does he rut into you a few more times before he loses himself, filling you as deeply as he can manage.

It’s silent once he collapses next to you, both catching your breath. When he catches his breath before you he departs with a peck to your lips before he leaves for the bathroom, returning with a damp rag.

“If that’s what I missed out on then I wouldn’t have minded going to school,” he breaks the reverie, cleaning between your legs before his cum has a chance to cool and become uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. Now I can have you all to myself,” you smile at him. He thinks his heart might burst.

“Yeah…that’s true too. Maybe everything worked out the way it did so that we could meet each other?”

“God, you're so sappy. Gross.” You both know you don’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” He once again bends at the waist to meet your lips. Gross or not he’s glad things aligned to this very moment.

You meet him halfway, sitting up on one arm to brush away his damp bangs. When you pull away you meet his gaze.

“I really, really do fucking love you, Yoichi”.

Yeah, he’s sure he’d meet you in every universe.

#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi smut #blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock smut #bluelock smut #i’m going to walk away from this site for 48 hours out of shame #(me lying)

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befemininenow · 2 months

Text

Some of us change, and for the better. If you haven't yet, what could you change?

Well, this one is a longer description than what I've been writing during special days. I've been debating on making changes for the blog, as well my improving on my personal needs. I haven't been able to enjoy anything these past few months due to work, bills, and other circumstances in my life. I've been wanting to enjoy this 2024, but it seems that it hasn't been any better.

It's currently April and the spring season is supposed to be a fresh new start for everyone. I always felt that April is the perfect month to adjust towards the new year and initiate those plans you had during your New Year's Resolution, but have never started. 90 days is usually enough time to adjust and I think we're well above 90 days to make an excuse. Well, no more excuses.

See, it's been exactly a year since I made my "retirement" post. However, I did so at an impulsive rate and lapsed back to uploading captions again. Then, on June of last year, I did so again. I uploaded a new caption or two between June and September before uploading more captions around October until now. Yet again, I didn't last.

I come to the conclusion that as much as I love making captions, it's been affecting my actual life. Caption making isn't as easy as it seems. Not only do you have to find good pictures, but you also have to create a meaningful message relating to the picture. Sometimes, you even have to give a detailed description either because the message can't fit in the entire picture or because I have to spice up the post. Then, you have to make sure the caption looks good because the wrong color, font, space, etc, can make it look ugly. It doesn't have to be this stressful, but it got to the point where it took a chunk of my free time and left me with a lack of satisfaction.

You may be asking yourself if this is another "retirement" post where I'm going to quit and come back again. Let me make this statement clear because as the saying goes "Third time's a charm": I'm not going to retire. Yet. However, don't be surprised if I go without uploading a new caption for 3 or 5 days. Chances are, I'm probably either busy with other errands in my life or because I need a proper vacation that allows me to enjoy my other hobbies. Feminization captions aren't my personality, y'know.

When and how I will conclude this blog will be a surprise I will unveil one day. Maybe next week, next month, maybe even next year. But for now, I'm going to make a change with this blog based at my own pace. This caption (No. 505) is a preview of what you will expect to see for the next several captions: basic, simple, effective, and of course, attractive. Also, for the first time since forever, I will upload captions without a post description. All of my captions have at least a small description of what the post is about. This time, there will be some caption posts without description because I believe the caption is enough to detail what the topic will be about.

For now, this is the future of this blog. I promise you that the next captions will be great. I put more effort and love into them and I hope you love them as well. Have a great night, everyone!

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seresinsbabe · 1 year

Text

Some Strings Attached 3

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem!reader

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a quick fuck. No strings attached. That was all. But six weeks later when you’re staring at two pink lines you realize there were some strings attached. And now you have no idea how to find the father because you only know his first name.

Warnings: Mentions of abortion, drinking, this chapter is a bit angsty

Word Count: 1.7k

THIS BLOG AND ITS FICS ARE 18+! MINORS DNI!

I do not consent to having any of my work shared on any other platform. If you see any rendition of my works on another site know that it has been posted without my permission.

You had never left Jake’s mind. Even when he was flying you were there, the woman he’d hooked up with on a whim in the back of his truck. In some far corner until he was on the ground and then you were back on the forefront.

Which was unusual for Jake. He was more than content leading the bachelor lifestyle. It was easier with his job. Deployments sucked and he was more than sure it would only be that much harder if he knew he had someone waiting at home on him. Javy told him he was missing out. That sure, it sucked being away from your lover but knowing he had someone waiting on him to get home made coming home that much sweeter.

It wasn’t like Jake didn’t have anyone waiting on him to get home. He had his family, his sisters and their kids and his parents. That was all he really needed or at least that was all he thought he needed. He liked his life. He liked not having someone nitpicking at his every move. Not having someone getting mad if he left his boxers on the floor or forgot to put the toilet seat down.

He was almost certain that whatever infatuation he had with you he could get out of his system with a couple of hookups. That the only reason he couldn’t get you out of his mind was because he hadn’t been able to properly fuck you.

When he saw you in the store he was certain that was his chance. He’d get your number, flirt a little and then you’d meet up at his place or yours and then he’d have you screaming his name. Just as he did with every other woman he’d been with. Of course any excitement in seeing you again had quickly disappeared when he’d heard that word.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant and it was his. Or so you said. You didn’t come across as the type to irresponsibly have sex with multiple men, but then again he didn’t really know you. What he did know was that a child was not in the books for him. Jake didn’t have any responsibilities outside of work and bills. Hell, he didn’t even have pets or plants because he wasn’t around enough to properly care for them. A child? That was a whole different ball game.

Maybe he did feel a little bad about the way he’d gone about it, but could anyone blame him? It was sprung on him in the fucking vitamin aisle of a grocery store. He had only gone because Javy’s wife told him to bring something to the cookout and he couldn’t show up with nothing other than beer. Or at least not again. Last time he had promised to bring potato salad and dropped the ball on that.

The guilt of how he’d reacted to you finally started to settle in as soon as he pulled into Javy’s driveway. How long he’d sat there just staring at the dashboard of his truck he wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t until someone tapped their knuckles against the window that he finally got out of his own head. Jake turned to find Bob standing there, his wife and her prominent baby bump standing next to him looking equally concerned.

“You good man?” Bob asked when Jake finally stepped out of the truck. Jake took a heavy sigh as he grabbed the beer and macaroni salad from the back seat. For a moment he pictured a car seat securely nestled on the same spot and pudgy little hands reaching up to pull on a toy attached to the handle. The Texan quickly shook his head and turned back to Bob who now looked even more concerned.

“I’ll uh…talk about it later.” He nodded his head in the direction of the backyard gate. “Let’s enjoy the cookout right now, yeah?” Jake wanted to quickly change the subject. It wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now, or at all really but he knew he would have to at some point. Honestly, who better to help him talk through it than his work family.

When he finally brought the topic up the sun was getting ready to go down and they were all situated around the in ground fire pit Jake had helped Javy build. He didn’t have to look to know everyone was looking at him with incredibly disappointed faces. The gravity of the situation and the way he’d reacted was hitting him full force.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jake finally relented, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His green eyes stared directly into the flames before glancing up at Elyssa, Javy’s wife, when she spoke.

“Man up and apologize.” The tone of her voice was one Jake only heard when he was scolding her kids. “This baby is a result of your actions just as much as it is hers. If you don’t want the responsibility that’s on you, but when she does exactly what she told you she would and doesn’t let you in that baby’s life it’s no one’s fault but your own.” Elyssa shifted in her seat as she spoke, moving a sleeping toddler from one position to the other.

Jake knew she was right. He needed to apologize, but before he did he needed to figure out if this was what he wanted. He’d grown so used to not having to care for anyone but himself. Sure, he flew million dollar jets, but a baby seems exponentially harder.

“What if I’m not a good dad?” The words tumbled out like vomit. “I mean…I didn’t have the best role model.” That was putting it lightly. Seresin Senior was an ass. Verbally and mentally abusive to his entire family, even a bit physically, and a fucking drunk. Nothing Jake had ever done satisfied his father. Not when he made varsity on the football team or joined the Navy, made into TOPGUN. None of it. He’d spent his whole life trying to appease his father when he knew it would never happen.

Jake didn’t want to end up like his father, even if he’d already done so much more with his life than his dad ever had. Still, he was scared he would end up just like him. That wasn’t the childhood he wanted for anyone, let alone his own children.

“Then prove you’re not him by doing what’s right.” This time it was Bob speaking up. “I get that you’re scared, but think about how much more scared she is. It’s her body that’s changing, she’s the one that will be pushing this baby out, breastfeeding. She could be doing this entire thing alone and scared. How is that fair?” Jake almost wanted to ask how it was fair to ask him to be forced into this, but no one was forcing him.

You’d given him the option, but you’d made it abundantly clear that if he didn’t want this, he didn’t get to come back. Just as Elyssa had said – this was just as much Jake’s fault as it was yours. He could have said no to sex without the condom. He could have even, at the very least, pulled out but he didn’t. The blame couldn’t land solely on you.

He stared back into the fire. Nodding his head after a good minute. “Alright, yeah you guys are right.” He hated admitting that he was wrong and that someone might know more than him, but this was one time even his ego had to take a step back.

Reaching behind him he pulled out the ultrasound photo that he’d shoved in his back pocket. He had almost thrown it away, but that annoying little voice in the back of his head had convinced him to keep it. Scanning the photo his eyes took in everything on that glossy square. Your name, how many weeks along you were, the measurements. How could they measure something so small? The baby was nothing but a blip pointed out by a white arrow.

Flipping the image over he read the scribbles on the back. All your information written in dainty half script. His thumb ran over it and then he flipped it back over. All the ways he could fuck up that little spec were running through his mind. Putting doubt in his head that he was actually capable of doing this.

Later that night Jake laid in bed, staring at his phone screen as it lit up the dark room. He’d typed, deleted and retyped his message to you over and over again. At first he had just laid it all out in the message. Bared his soul, but then he quickly realized that seemed like a little much given the way he’d acted in the store. So then he deleted it and just typed ‘Hey’. That was quickly discarded. He couldn’t text you like you were one of his hookups. Even if that was kind of exactly what you had been, but now you were much more than that. Finally he settled on something simple.

After proofreading the message a time or two he finally sent it and then immediately put his phone on do not disturb. Otherwise he’d lay there the rest of the night waiting to hear the text tone. As if you were even up at this time of night.

His mind wasted no time conjuring up images of the two of you. Ones where you were a happy, nuclear family. The exact opposite of what he’d grown up with. Images where he’d help a very pregnant you up like he watched Bob help his own wife up. And ones where he collected your sleeping child while you followed behind with their blanket and the sticky sippy cup they’d been drinking out of. It was wild considering he had no clue if that’s the course things would run between the two of you. Would it make things easier? Sure, but that didn’t mean it would happen.

Just because you were having a child together didn’t mean you would fall in love.

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#jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x you #top gun au #top gun maverick

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the-himawari · 8 days

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A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [SR] A Body That Captures Your Gaze (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Muku: As for what you can use as reference… first off is this!

Masumi: …Shoujo manga?

Muku: Yep. You wanted to learn how to be alluring, right? I referenced the hero’s poses on the covers and frontispieces for this series…

*flips page*

Muku: Like… this one, for example. I think he looks seductive when he places his hand on his neck and stares at the heroine in front of him.

Masumi: I didn't know manga could be used not only as a reference for love, but also for these kinds of poses.

Muku: That’s right. It’s amazing, isn’t it! Ah, but it’s shoujo manga, so the heroine is shown a lot. Not everything can be used as reference…

Masumi: That’s fine. I’ll do those with Director next time.

Muku: If you’d ever like to recreate the poses, please let me know! I’ll take the pictures for you!

Masumi: Sure, I’ll ask you to be my photographer.

Muku: No problem! Ah, that’s right. I have something else that'll be helpful, so please wait a moment.

Masumi: ? Okay.

*Muku leaves*

Masumi: …

*flips page*

Masumi: I’d like to do this manga’s pose with Director.

*Muku comes back*

Muku: Thank you for waiting. I brought what I think will help.

Masumi: Is this a magazine?

Muku: That's right. I borrowed this magazine from Yuki-kun and Taichi-kun. I read it when I was doing my previous bromide photoshoot.

*flips page*

Muku: I thought this model’s pose and this actor’s gaze were charming.

Masumi: …I see what you mean. I guess these photos are alluring. They’re like your bromide that Director was complimenting earlier.

Muku: There’s more pictures of the same model on the other pages too… Ah, I know. If you’re up for it, why don’t you try taking some practise shots? You might be able to find the perfect pose that way.

Masumi: Sure. I’ll give it a try.

-pause-

*click*

Muku: …Can you tilt your face a bit more?

Masumi: Like this?

Muku: Exactly! You sure look dashing, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: … (The pose on this page has his bangs pushed back…)

Muku: Ah, Masumi-kun! Please keep that pose and throw a flirty glance. I think it’ll look more alluring that way.

Masumi: …A flirty glance? Is this right?

Muku: !

*click*

Muku: You nailed it! It’s super seductive. You look really cool!

*click*

Masumi: …

Muku: …Can you expose your stomach a bit more?

Masumi: Sure… this much?

Muku: Perfect… may I make some adjustments?

Masumi: Go ahead. …Is it alright to cover them that much? The picture’s supposed to show off my abs and all.

Muku: You put so much work into your muscles, so I don’t think you should hide them completely. But I also don’t think it feels like Masumi-kun to reveal too much!

Masumi: …I see.

Muku: Ah, I’m so sorry! It’s not like I’m the magazine’s photographer or anything. I was just blabbing on my own…

Masumi: You don’t need to apologize. I prefer if you speak your mind. I’ll remember what you told me.

Muku: Masumi-kun…

Masumi: Muku, give me more tips.

Muku: Sure thing!

-pause-

*click*

Muku: …Is this enough?

Masumi: You helped a lot. Send all the pictures you just took to me.

Muku: You got it! I can’t wait to see your magazine.

Masumi: (…I’ll show all of these pictures to her later.)

-pause-

Izumi: I don’t think I need to go shopping for anything today. That means…

Masumi: I found you.

Izumi: Ah, Masumi-kun. Were you looking for me?

Masumi: Yeah. I asked Muku to take pictures of me in different poses for the upcoming magazine photoshoot.

Izumi: Oh, really?

Masumi: Yeah. How do these look?

Izumi: Wow, these photos are incredible!

Option 1: “You sure look mature.”

Izumi: You sure look mature. The brushed back bangs look great, but your sidelong glance looks especially nice.

Masumi: You really think so?

Izumi: Yeah. My heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

Masumi: I’ll definitely do the same thing in the actual photoshoot then.

Izumi: Sounds good. But make sure to stay flexible and follow the staff’s instructions, alright?

Option 2: “The small glimpse of your abs works well.”

Izumi: The small glimpse of your abs works well. The way you’re not actually showing everything feels very you.

Masumi: Muku said that too. It’s more like me if I don’t show too much.

Izumi: I agree. I don’t know how much you’re going to be asked to show in the actual shoot… But I think this much works well.

Masumi: I got it. I won’t expose any more than this no matter what they say.

Izumi: Eh!? Please stay flexible and follow the staff’s instructions, alright!

Masumi: I will… if you say so.

Izumi: Perfect, I’m counting on you. Great, I'm relieved. I’m sure the real shoot will go just fine.

Masumi: Leave it to me. I’ll do my best on the day of so you’ll compliment me even more.

-pause-

Masumi: Here, Muku… As thanks for yesterday.

Muku: Yesterday? Ah, about the poses!? You don’t have to thank me…!

Masumi: I wanted to. Director complimented me after I showed her the pictures you took for me.

Muku: Oh, really!? That’s great to hear! In that case, I’ll happily accept this.

Masumi: …Go ahead.

Muku: Oh gosh, it’s the chocolates I like! I’m so happy. Thank you very much!

Masumi: It’s nothing. You’re the one who helped me out. Thanks, Muku.

---

previous |

#a3!#a3! translation #usui masumi #act! addict! actors!

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acewritesfics · 6 months

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His Father’s Son | EDDIE MUNSON

⚠️⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST. ⚠️⚠️

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: From Anon.

Warnings: angst, death, fluff, unexpected pregnancy, grief, parenthood. It’s an emotional rollercoaster. Italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 4,020 - this is the longest imagine I've ever written and I wish they could all be this long.

Tag List: Open - acewritesfics taglist sign up

Stranger Things Masterlist

“What shall we do today?” Y/N asks her 2-year-old son, James, as she finishes dressing him for the day. “Should we paint some new pictures for Uncle Dustin?”

When the thought of painting and his honorary uncle makes the small boy’s huge doe-brown eyes light up, she smiles. Painting is currently the toddler’s favorite activity. He painted on any paper she could provide him with, frequently himself and even the walls of the trailer they resided in. After the second time he painted on the walls, she made sure it would be an outdoor activity.

“You stay right here,” she tells him, putting him in his play pen. “Mommy is going to go set up your paint, okay?”

“Paits!” Although using the incorrect word, the toddler clapped.

She smiles, tenderly correcting him, “Paints."

"Pants.” He cheers again, this time with a completely different word.

“Close enough,” she shrugs and takes out the container filled with all the painting supplies James would ever need.

When Y/N revealed that James’ new favorite activity is painting, Dustin, Steve, Robin, and Will, had gathered all the materials they could locate. When Steve and Dustin dropped it all to Y/N, James was beyond excited while she was in tears thanking them all. After most of the town turned their backs on her, the support she received from the Upside-Down crew occasionally became overwhelming for her.

Because her son, James Edward Munson, was the child of supposed cult leader and serial murderer, Eddie Munson, the residents of Hawkins immediately despised the small child and believed he was the devil’s spawn. As soon as it was revealed that she was pregnant, the rumors surrounding Eddie got much worse. He was accused of sacrificing Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick in order for Y/N to become pregnant with Satan’s offspring, ignoring the fact that she became pregnant three months before the murders took place, with Y/N and Eddie finding out just one month earlier.

Y/N made numerous attempts to escape Hawkins, but she was unable to do so. The only parent Eddie had who cared about him, his uncle, is still in Hawkins along with her parents. Despite Wayne and her parents’ best efforts to persuade her to leave and their offers of help, she was unable to go. The people she cared about most remained in this town. She wanted her and Eddie’s son to be raised surrounded by their families and friends, not people who didn’t know them.

Over the past year, the animosity had gradually subsided, but every now and again, someone would say something snarky to remind her of their true feelings about her son. They treated her like a victim for some reason while treating her son the same way they had treated his father. The only difference was that James didn’t have an angry mob of hicks hunting him down and falsely accusing him of murder.

She was setting up the paint table outside when she saw Wayne’s car parked outside his trailer, letting her know he was at home. She decides to take him some dinner before he returns to work later, knowing he will have just gotten home from his night shift at the plant.

After returning inside, she lifts James out from the playpen and takes him outside. “Poppa is at home. Should we visit him later?” She asks the young child as she sets him down in front of the table.

“Poppa home,” he says, his hands automatically going into the paint and making a mess. Fortunately for her, she had dressed him in an old outfit that he was outgrowing.

“We can cook him dinner and bring it to him. I’m sure Poppa would appreciate it.” She smiles as she sits across from him on a flimsy metal and fabric outdoor chair.

Wayne is now known as Grandpa, or Poppa, as James refers to him, rather than Uncle Wayne.

After Eddie died, Wayne continued to let her live with him as they moved into a trailer near their old one. While still grieving for his nephew, he made sure she had all she needed and along with her parents, he helped her in any way that he could. For her, Wayne had become a second father. She also knew it was what Eddie would have wanted. He had repeatedly stated to her that Wayne had been more of a father figure to him than his own father. Wayne was the one who most deserved to be called grandpa.

As Y/N watches her son, she is struck by how much he resembles his dad, right down to his captivating big brown eyes, dark curly hair, and adorable button nose. He even had some of the same mannerisms. His small tongue poked out as he concentrated intently on his painting, just like Eddie’s did when he was contemplating or concentrating on whatever he was doing. The way he stood, and even the way he threw tantrums, reminded her of Eddie. Though it didn’t bother her, she had started to question if James had inherited anything from her or if it was just a joke God was pulling. James was his father’s twin in every way, which she loved because, in a way, it reminded her that Eddie was still with her.

She remembers the moment she learned she was pregnant with James as she dipped her finger in paint to paint a picture of her own.

A month prior to Eddie’s death, Y/N received a call from her doctor confirming that all the symptoms she had been experiencing were caused by her pregnancy.

Eddie found her outside the trailer rather than inside, crying and looking terrified when he arrived home after school.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he takes a seat next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulder and drawing her closer. “What’s going on?”

She sniffles, placing her hand on his knee and her head on his shoulder, “I got some news from the doctor today. They found out why I’ve been sick the last couple week.”

She notices Eddie tensing up a little. She was aware that he would be considering the worst-case scenario. He frequently tended to do that.

After a brief pause, she announces, “I’m pregnant."

He starts to relax a little and gives her a head kiss. The news didn’t really surprise them. She had visited the doctor because of their suspicions about an unexpected pregnancy. However, neither of them stopped considering the possibility that it might be a false alarm and something entirely different. And even so, the young couple was still absolutely frightened.

Eddie was still in school, selling drugs on the side, and Y/N was working at Family Video alongside Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, having put her college plans on hold because she didn’t know what she wanted to do just yet. In order to save money for their own trailer after Eddie finally graduates in two months, they lived in his uncle’s trailer, occupying the one available bedroom. And now they need to prepare and start providing for a baby.

"We’ll figure it out,” Eddie promises. Since they found out he wouldn’t be graduating with her in his first senior year, it had become his go-to line.

She responds as she always does, “I know we will, we always do."

She had no reason to doubt it because it was true. No matter how great or little the challenge, she and Eddie always managed to overcome it. That is how Y/N knew that he was the man she would eventually marry and have a family with. It turned out that they would be beginning a family sooner than either of them had anticipated.

She leaned in closer to him as he lifted her hand from his knee into the one that wasn’t over her shoulder and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm before kissing her head again. ” You are aware that I’ll be teaching our kid how to play D&D, right?“

She can’t help but grin at what he says. "And guitar, and metal bands, and-”

He lifts her head and gives her a soft kiss, cutting her off. His huge brown eyes pierce her own Y/E/C eyes as he ends the kiss. “I love you.”

She kisses him again and whispers, “I love you, too.”

“Mommy, look!” James exclaims as he holds up his latest masterpiece. The yellow, blue, and red colors blended to create a purplish brown hue in a painting of his handprints.

“That’s incredible, my beautiful boy!” She praised the toddler. “Uncle Dusty will love it, I think. Should we go give it to him when he gets out of school tomorrow?” She continues, thinking about the kid she watched grow into a fine young man.

Along with Mike, Lucas, Max, El, and Will, who returned to Hawkin’s after beating Vecna, Dustin was a senior in high school. She had remained close to them, but Dustin, like he had with Eddie, had a special place in her heart. She had chosen the teenage boy as James’ godfather despite his age. As she observed Dustin with her son, she was confident that she had made the right choice. Just like he had with Eddie, Dustin also shared a deep bond James.

She wasn’t surprised when she walked into the living room one day to find Dustin teaching James about all the Dungeons and Dragons characters, telling him about all the campaigns Eddie had thought up, and explaining to him that he was a Hellfire Club legacy and would one day lead the club and serve as a dungeon master like his father had. Despite the fact that James was oblivious to anything Dustin was saying, she could tell that she was raising a future dungeon master because he was listening intently and was fascinated in the figurines.

James nods his little head, his eyes sparkling with delight at the possibility of seeing his favorite person. She smiles and puts another sheet of paper in front of him before going to hang the painting he had finished on the clothes line to dry since she doesn’t want grass or dirt to get on it.

“How about painting something for Poppa?” She makes the suggestion after returning to him and seeing him gazing at the white sheet of paper as if he were deciding what to paint next.

“Maxie?” he asks, referring to the redhead girl who lives two trailers down from them and Dustin’s friend. She believes her two-year-old son has a little crush on her. Most nights when she had work, Max or her mother Susan would watch him until she arrived home.

“Would you like to paint a picture for Max as well?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer. He nods his head once more. “You could do one for Poppa and another one for Maxie,” she suggests. James appears to agree as he begins to paint with his hands again, creating an even bigger mess.

She sits back down in the chair across from him and resumes her painting, losing herself once more in her memories.

“We’re not naming our child Ozzy,” she protests as she sits on their bed, back against the headboard, a large jar of peanut butter and a spoon on her lap, staring at him as if he’s gone insane. She had no idea why they were having this conversation right away. They would not be able to learn the gender of their baby for a few more months. She was just two days short of being 12 weeks pregnant.

“You like Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a high, raspy tone it gets when he’s frustrated.

“Not enough to name the baby Ozzy,” she responds, before shovelling another enormous scoop of peanut butter into her mouth. Her ability to consume peanut butter in that manner makes him feel a little repulsed as he watches her.

“So, what do you suggest we should name him?” He asks with a little more composure and a dash of sarcasm. Eddie was adamant that the baby is a boy. “Dio?”

She glares at him and slams his words back in his face, “You love Dio!”

“I do,” he scoffs also using her words agains her, “but not enough to name the baby Dio.”

“Dio is unique!”

“And so is Ozzy!”

“Jesus fucking Christ! Could you two please shut up?” Wayne can be heard yelling at them both from his spot in the living room.

For a moment, it is silence between the couple until Y/N speaks up again as she moves the jar of peanut butter to the bedside table. “How about James?”

“From Metallica?” he asks as he takes a seat next to her on their bed.

She sits on his lap facing him and nods. As he placed his hands on her hips, sliding them up beneath his Hellfire Club shirt that she was wearing, she attempted to ignore the sudden heat that was building up in her lower regions. His rough hands brushed against her delicate skin as he traced his fingertips along her lower back until he reached the tiny, hardly noticeable baby bump. Her voice became huskier as she talks.

“I know you love their new song. You’ve been learning to pla-” She pauses to bite her lip to hold back a gasp when he lowers his hand a little. “Play it non-stop sinc-” she moaned softly as his hand slid into the waistband of her underwear. “Jesus Christ,” she exhales, losing all her thought process as Eddie continues to pleasure her with his wonderful, hard-working hands.

“Nope, only Eddie,” he smirks, pleased that he is the only one capable of making her feel this way. He certainly knew how to take advantage of her pregnancy hormones.

“Asshole,” she mumbles before crushing her lips against his in a heated kiss to muffle her moans of pleasure.

Her memory rapidly shifts to a less pleasant one as she recalls what had transpired within the next week and how they confirmed that their son’s name would be James.

It all began when Chrissy Cunningham, the good girl cheerleader and queen of Hawkins High, went to Eddie to buy drugs from him. Apparently, the weed wasn’t strong enough for her, and she required something stronger than what Eddie would carry his black lunchbox to school. After the basketball game and the conclusion of his latest Dungeons and Dragons campaign, Chrissy had returned to the trailer with him, surprising Y/N who was skimming through a baby book her mother had given her. He asked his girlfriend to help him in finding the Special K that he had somehow misplaced. She scolded him for even thinking to sell the ketamine to the teenage girl who had clearly never done any kind of drug in her life. He made an effort to reassure her that everything would be alright and that he would make sure Chrissy understood how to take it without accidentally overdosing herself.

When they had emerged from their bedroom after finding the ketamine, Chrissy had been in a trance-like state, her body was trembling, and her eyes were rolling back as if she were having a seizure. The young couple was horrified by what happened next. Chrissy’s body began to levitate off the ground, her legs and arms snapped in all directions, her jaw was completely dislocated from her skull, and her eyes had been pulled back inside her head as the all the lights around them flickered intensely. Neither of them could fathom what was happening.

Eddie eventually regained some composure as he grasped Y/N’s hand and rushed outside, ushering her into his van, and sped off into the night, heading to the only location he believed they would be safe.

After learning that Eddie was wanted for suspicion of murder and kidnapping—his kidnapping victim being his own girlfriend—they managed to stay hidden over the next few days with the aid of Dustin and Lucas, two of the younger members of the Hellfire Club, as well as their friends Max, Steve, Robin, and Nancy. The situation deteriorated even further when they had learned Max had been marked with Vecna’s curse, and survived an attempt to take her life on top of two other teens being murdered in the same way Chrissy was. They had witnessed the third one while trying to escape Jason and his goon squad. Ultimately, Eddie had a larger bullseye on his back. He was being pursued by more than just the police.

Soon, a strategy was developed and put into action. Even if her sole responsibility was to hold a flash light, she was not going to let them or Eddie handle this without her. Eddie had tried to persuade her to sit it out but he eventually caved after Robin and Nancy pleaded for her help. However, he made it clear he wasn’t pleased about it and vowed to ruin everyone’s lives if anything happened to her and their unborn baby.

She’d been assigned to team up with Eddie and Dustin to distract the demobats. Eddie insisted that she remain inside the upside-down version of the trailer, keeping her near to the sheet-made rope that hung between the two dimensions in case she needed a quick escape if everything went south.

Up until the demobats began to attack the trailer, everything was going according to plan. Before she realized what was going on, Eddie had left them to go play the hero, and by the time she and Dustin had found him, it was too late. Demobats were surrounding Eddie on the road as he lay bleeding and struggling to stay alive. Dustin attempted to help her in lifting him up, but it was harder to due to his own injuries from coming back through the gate. She couldn’t make out what Eddie and Dustin as she focused on trying to move him.

It wasn’t until she felt Eddie’s palm cup her face that she became more focused on him than on getting him to stand up. She looks directly into Eddie’s eyes as tears fall down her face.

“I agree with you,” he tells her.

“About what?” she wonders.

“James. It’s a great name” He informs her, wincing slightly from the pain he’s in. “James the Remarkable. He’ll be as courageous and resilient as his mother and as metal as his father.”

Her chest aches as she lets out a loud sob. “Then he’ll be known as James the Remarkable.”

“You’re not going to argue with me on this?”

“Not this time.”

“I fucking love you so much, sweetheart,” he says, barely above a whisper as he becomes weaker. “And the kid too.” His hand moves to her belly as he looks Dustin. “Look after them for me, yeah?”

Dustin nods, his own tears streaming down his face as he cries for his friend.

“Stay with me, alright? We love you too,” she tells him. “You’re leaving this place with us, okay? We’re going to get you out of here and get you help and-”

“Kiss me,” he says softly cutting her off. She gives him a gentle kiss as he takes his last breath.

That had been, by far, her worst day ever. The pain she experienced when Eddie passed away in her arms was worse than the actual physical pain she had gone through with childbirth. Due to the overwhelming grief, guilt, and anger she was feeling, everyone had helped in ensuring that she was caring for both herself and the unborn baby. She frequently struggled to get herself to leave her bed. She would lay there crying while wearing Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt and clutching his pillow, they were the two things that smelt most like him. She had to deal with the death of the person she loved more than anyone else, and the accusations against him only made everything worse.

She had been interrogated by the police numerous times and attempted to convince them that Eddie was innocent of the killings and that he didn’t abduct and abuse her in order to get her pregnant. She made an effort to convey Eddie’s love for her and their child, and of the fact that they found out she was pregnant a month prior to the murders, and that he would never harm or kill anyone. But no one paid her any attention. A few hours after the questioning, s he found spotting on her underwear and had gotten Wayne to take her to the hospital to get checked over. Everything seemed okay aside from the baby becoming stressed because she was stressed, she was put on immediate bedrest until she got better. Wayne, her parents and her friends wouldn’t allow her to spend a day alone, someone was with her at all times of the day. James was born a month earlier than his due date, but he was in good health and had very few complications. Two weeks after his birth, she was able to bring him home to the new trailer she shared with Eddie’s uncle. She was grateful to the others who stuck around to help her with him. Without them, she didn’t know if she would have made it through those first few months after having him.

She took James inside after another hour of painting, washed him up, and then put him back with his toys. In order to keep him entertained as she organized the painting supplies, she switched on the TV and played one of his favorite Sesame Street videos. When she was finished, she put them away and went to get James a snack, only to see him sleeping on the couch. She gives her son a tender smile before heading inside their bedroom to get his favorite blankie, that he always uses when it’s nap time. She kisses his head as she leans in and brushes some of his locks away from his eyes. “I love you, kiddo.”

She gathers his toys and puts them in his toy basket before going into their bedroom to clean that space as well. Her gaze is drawn to a polariod picture of her and Eddie that was placed on her dresser next to a photo of her holding James in the hospital shortly after his birth. She smiles to herself as she picks up the polaroid. It was captured at The Hideout following a performance by Corroded Coffin. Eddie was holding her close to him with his arm around her shoulders. Eddie had a huge grin on his face as Y/N’s was leaned back, laughing at whatever they were looking at off to the side of Gareth who had taken it and given it to them the following day.

She is still holding the picture as she sits on her bed. She hated that Eddie wasn’t able to be at the birth of their son. She hated that he wasn’t there for Jame’s important first milestones. She hated that he wasn’t around to watch James grow up and teach him how to play the guitar and to play Dungeons & Dragons. She hated that he wasn’t there to help her raise their son. She hated they weren’t able to leave town, get married, and have more kids. She hated that he had died well before his time. She had no clue how she had made it this far without him.

But James, who reminded her so much of Eddie, was her entire universe and the reason she kept going. From the moment she felt James kick inside her belly, he had become her guiding light in the darkness, reminding her that he was now her main purpose in life and her reason to keep living. In that moment, she made a promise to Eddie that she would love James deeply enough for the both of them, and that he would know just how metal his dad truly was, as well as the sacrifice he made for a town that hated him.

#acewritesfics repost #eddie munson x reader

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nerdieforpedro · 25 days

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VIII - Have we put all the pieces together?

Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series

This fic and my blog over all is 18+ MDNI

Frankie Morales x Belinda (plus size OFC)

Word Count: about 3.4k (Longer than all the other pieces 😑 Endings are rough.)

Summary: Frankie and Belinda have a conversation that truly is better in the morning. Things are moving and shaking while Belinda is stir-crazy. After things settle down, pieces are in place where they should be.

Warnings: angst, intoxication (mild), medical jargon, pregnancy and complications (Nerdie may have taken liberties with this - Mother & Baby was not my best class), birth control discussions, food mention & cooking, Benny and Frankie bear the brunt of the bad jokes, Pope and Carmen and the MVPs, we have more desserts and fluff

Notes: The finale for Frankie and Belinda. I’ve enjoyed writing their story. It had its’s fair bit of mess but at the core were two people who loved each other. I may do a follow up or two because they’re beginning a new chapter. Thank you so much for reading this far. 💕 Happy Frankie Friday everyone! 🥰

Main Masterlist/ Frankie “Catfish” Morales Masterlist/ Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series

It’s not like Belinda hadn’t pictured herself in this position over the years. She just thought there would be a few steps in a different order. It’s supposed to be a happy moment where she gives Frankie the wonderful news, they celebrate because they’ve talked about it, agreed to it and were doing the whole trying thing. Frankie looks a bit drunk, mostly panicked and like she’s going to float away. His eyes are trained on her and his hands have his cap and his hair in their grips.

“Mi bizcochito (My little cake) please. Don’t say it. Just…I know.”

“You know? What do you know Frankie?” Her eyebrows are halfway up her forehead. She thought she was hiding it well. Of course he knows. He’s Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales. He still notices when she uses different oils in her hair or changes her fingernail polish. The superb attention to detail that made it impossible to hide how she felt about him for the longest, even when Belinda wanted to pretend like she didn’t or worse when they were trying whatever casual mess they had been doing before. He still knew and that’s why he’d pull away sometimes, though they still ended up coming back together eventually.

“Cariño (sweetheart), you don’t have to worry though. You’ve been changing your clothes. I’m not the same as I once was either. It’s a good thing though. Since we’ve been together, we’ve both become softer, taking care of each other.” He’s explaining, or trying to, that he thinks she is beautiful even if she puts on a few pounds. He has too, Frankie’s aware he has a bit more to grab in the middle.

Belinda covers her face. This is not the right time to have this conversation with him, he is either in denial or really thinks she’s concerned about weight gain, which she isn’t. She just went back to her comfy clothes that she could hide in while she waited for her doctor’s appointment. Which had been today. Standing up and embracing him, she was able to stifle her laugh and kiss his cheek. “You’re right Frankie, we have become softer together. Let’s get you some water, a shower and off to bed.”

Morales allows himself to be taken care of by his bizcochito. He needs to keep the act up until tomorrow morning. It will be Saturday and neither of them have work unless Frankie gets called in. After Belinda falls asleep, he turns off his phone. Might lead to a stern talking to on Monday, but he’d need to ask her what he’d been beside himself to really ask her. Morales is many things but not a fool. He’s staring at the ceiling with the woman he loves laying on his chest, the very same that’s likely carrying his child. ‘Maybe I should have wrapped it up but she said she enjoyed the feeling. I did too.’ He did have to remind Belinda occasionally to take her birth control meds and they did discuss an implant in her arm or an IUD but she was squeamish about anything being surgically put in or being classified as a procedure. Frankie did poke a bit of fun at her considering what she has in her most nights and she told him he was a bad man after slapping his arm.

Maybe he should have pushed harder for it or gotten the snip himself, but neither of them ever mentioned it. Frankie pictured himself with children at one point, early in his service. Before the real combat started before he saw the horrors, it was enough many times just to take care of himself. He couldn’t imagine caring for someone fully dependent on him. Not then. But now? Belinda wrapped an arm around his torso, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Maybe it will be fine. Maybe I can do it. We’ll be raising the kid together after all. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless. Fuck…” His eyes close and he drifts off to sleep curious how exactly to talk about it with her.

Despite the hangover, Morales is up first, peeling Belinda off of him. Bathroom then coffee. He’s always on coffee duty, so he decided to fix breakfast too. The excuse would be that it’s a Saturday, and she wanted to talk to him about something but he wasn’t aware enough to register anything. The aroma of the coffee calls Belinda. It smells delicious but her stomach turns, she felt like it was a little early for that. She’s at two months according to the doctor and there was a major caveat with that. She googled most of the evening yesterday but didn’t retain a thing. Slipping on a white and navy blue striped t-shirt dress, she made her way to the kitchen.

There stands Francisco, a messy mop of dark curls bouncing on the back of his neck, his gray t-shirt struggling to contain his biceps and shoulders. He was wearing tan cargo shorts that cupped the curve of his ass just right. He’s finishing up the eggs, the bacon is to the side, pancakes are keeping warm in a metal baking pan covered with foil. The table is set with orange juice and syrup already out. If she wasn’t apprehensive about what conversation they were going to have, she’d tell him to cover all the food and head back to the bedroom. This is by far one of the sexiest and sweetest things he does for her: letting her not worry about anything. She’s waiting for his usual line of “breakfast is served mi amor (my love).” That’s not what he turns and says.

Frankie turns to see Belinda watching him with a soft smile. She looks a little tired still, but otherwise fine. He’s happy to cook on days where they stay in and spend time together. It looks like there will be more of these days with a small high chair at one of the sides of the table. It’s out before he can really think about what he said, what it means. “Buenos dias mamá oso (Good morning mama bear)! Breakfast is served!” He has a genuine smile on his face. He was dead serious. Belinda’s hands were on her hips. She knows I knew, welp Fish. Whatever happens, happens. Dammit.

“Good morning Francisco Miguel Valesquez Morales.” She has used his entire name. Frankie is concerned as she walks toward him, the smile gone from her face. “How long have you known? Tell me.”

Frankie sighs and places both palms on the counter behind him, leaning back. “The last few weeks. You’re wearing different clothes I haven’t seen you wear for a while and are a bit more round in the middle.”

“Why didn’t you say anything last night? Why go with that whole ‘we’re both softer’ thing?”

“I mean, I wasn’t wrong. We are both softer. Just for different reasons and not just physically. I’m not cooking breakfast for just any woman I know. Te amo Belinda (I love you Belinda).” Her hands pinch his cheeks while her lips peck his.

“You’d best not Frankie. Te amo mi amor.” She assist and dishing up the plates and the air across from each other, eating breakfast. During a pause, she decides to ask, “Did you know I went to the doctor yesterday?”

“No but are there any issues?” Frankie crosses his arms, there couldn’t be something wrong already right?

Belinda clears her throat and sets her elbows on the table, her chin is on top of her interlocked fingers. “Apparently, and I don’t believe I have any that run in my family, the reason I’m showing earlier than normal. Whatever normal looks like, is because we’re having twins.”

Morales is frozen. He doesn't remember there being any cases of twins that he knows of. His mouth moves but nothing comes out. It’s amazing but doesn’t that mean double everything?! Belinda wonders if the man’s stopped working. It was a shock to her too yesterday. She thought maybe there was a weird shadow or something on the ultrasound but the doctor and nurse pointed out two heartbeats and two babies. It was part of why she’d been sitting to tell Frankie. It was still processing for her too.

“So…but is that okay? For you cariño?” The pilot asked. Pregnancy can be difficult when you’re having one baby. Belinda is carrying two.

“It kinda has to be Fish. I can’t move either baby anywhere else.” She chuckled, understanding his concern. What was her pregnancy going to look like? Everyone’s always different.

“When’s your next appointment? I’m coming with you. I know you won’t remember everything.”

Belinda had fake outrage on her face, gasping and covered her mouth with her hands, “Is that so? How could you! I have my notes from my last appointment. Thank you! Not everything stuck though to be fair.” The smirk on her face as Frankie stood and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I told them I can call next week after checking with you, plus I needed to actually tell you.”

“Well now I know. I’ll let my manager know and it will be fine.” He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got to show up with you to let them know who’s got some strong swimmers. I’m not called ‘Fish’ for nothing.” Belinda pinched his nose, then ruffled his hair.

“Such a horrible man. Who even says that Frankie?” They both laughed while they cleaned up breakfast. Her cheek rested in the middle of Frankie’s back as he washed the dishes. For just a moment before she dried and put them away.

Sunday afternoon at Will and Benny’s, everyone is gathered. All their close friends. Belinda and Frankie had done a video call with her parents who were shocked, ecstatic and wanted to know when they could fly down and visit. Frankie was all for it, Belinda said that she would need to set up the guest room, she didn’t want them coming quite yet. Her Frankie had moved in not too long ago.

Will wasn’t surprised and happy that they actually talked it out.

Benny had to be told not to pick Belinda up and squeeze her. Frankie gave him a death glare.

Pope and Carmen both squealed, gave hugs and started an argument that lead to an intense game of rock-paper-scissors to determine who would be the godparents. In a major upset, Will was knocked out early. Pope and Benny did five rounds before Benny danced away victorious. Was a rendition of the running man necessary? To Benjamin Miller it was.

The joy in sharing the news with everyone eased both of their anxieties for a time.

It was when Belinda was six months along and Frankie was at one of her follow up appointments with the OBGYN. They’d seen the PCP last week. Her blood pressure was high, but not concerning yet according to the MD so she opted to work from home. It helped at first but her blood pressure crept back up. Frankie made her a fluffy spot in their bed surrounding her with pillows, water and snacks. He told her to stay put. Don’t go anywhere except the bathroom and the bed. He’d call to check in on her as she did reports and such from her laptop.

This system worked until month eight. She hated it. She can’t move around, she’s stuck to this bed, concerned about how worried Frankie is about her. Belinda finished her reports early, she was banking all her time to use after her maternity leave. “I need to get out…it’s the same four walls. Just walking down the street should be okay right?” She was just going to walk out in her slides and a simple dress. It was warm but not hot thankfully. Belinda called Carmen to let her know where she was going, she thought about texting Frankie but she didn’t want him worrying anymore than he already was. “Just down the street. Just down the street.” Letting out a long breath, Belinda felt a few kicks as she made it to the end of the driveway. “I know, momma just wanted to move around. Let’s move around together and we can have a little secret from daddy. Until he’s eaten dinner. The truth is best on a full belly.” She chuckled while waddling down the street. Saying hello to a few neighbors in addition to feeling the wind around her body instead of just near a window was something she didn’t realize she missed.

Belinda ended up at the park at the end of the street and sat on a bench. She rested her feet and watched a few children play, curious when she’d be able to bring these two here to play.

Carmen stopped by with groceries l. She thought Belinda would be back by now but she wasn’t. It was an hour and a half since she’d called her to tell her she went for a walk. She called and texted her but she didn’t answer. “Ahh…Belinda. I swear…” She put the groceries away and Belinda returned her call. She’s sobbing and frightened.

“C-Carmen. There’s a bag next to my bed. Pick me up from the park, please. I think…my water broke. I just wanted a walk…to get out. It’s early right? Too early…What if I did something wrong? How will I explain to Frankie that I didn’t listen…?” She paused and it sounds like she’s moving.

“Belinda you’re not still walking are you? Honey don’t worry about any of that, there’s nothing to be done. Just get somewhere you can sit and wait for me. You’re still near the park right?” Carmen hurried to the bedroom and found a black duffel back at the foot of the bed. She grabbed it, made sure she had her purse and locked the front door. She tossed the back in the passenger seat, texted Pope to get Frankie to the hospital immediately and sped toward the park. “Linda you’re still on the line right?!”

“Yes. I found a bench. It hurts to sit. I’m standing and leaning over.” She feels a little woozy but stays on the line. Carmen hops out of the car and ushers her to the backseat laying her down. “I’m sorry. Does Frankie know? Is he coming? I should…” Belinda is dozing a bit, Carmen is yelling at her to stay awake. Within ten minutes, they’re at the hospital.

Frankie is checking gauges in one of the helicopters. Finally off probation, he’s back to flying. Santiago calls three times while he’s trying to focus. “What hermano (brother)? Where’s the fire?” His tone is peppered with a smile.

“Dammit Fish! Answer the first time! Carmen is taking Belinda to the hospital! Her water broke. I’m on my way to get you, Will and Benny will bring your truck over. Grab your shit and meet me out front!” Frankie hopped out of the helicopter, grabbed his bag from his text and told his manager that he was leaving. His twins are coming. Pope was indeed waiting outside. “Look man.” Hopping in his truck, the men took off toward the hospital. “Carmen said that Belinda had trouble staying awake, but it looks like they’re replacing some fluids she said.”

“She’s a month early! Is that bad for her? Is she going to be okay?” Frankie wants his children to be okay, but what is he going to do if she’s not okay, if Belinda isn’t okay. “I should have just told her to be on bed rest. Not even work from home. Pope, what am I gonna do if…”

“Shut up Frankie. Don’t you dare. She’s going to be fine. Your kids are going to be fine. You’re going to see them in the next few minutes and be there with her. Our kids are going to have play dates and I’m going to beat your ass for actually allowing Benny to be your kids’ godfather.”

“He won fair and square Pope. Your bionic ass couldn’t win.” The pilot laughed nervously, he appreciated him trying to calm him.

“My hair and ass are the only things that aren’t bionic, you jerk.” Pope’s smirk lingered on his face as they rounded the corner and pulled up at the ER doors. “I’m still kicking your ass once your girl and your kids are home safe. I’m parking the truck.”

Frankie nodded and ran to the front desk, asked where Belinda’s room and a staff member took him to her room. There was a flourish of noises, Morales couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. He knocked and opened the door.

He was too late.

In each arm, Belinda held a baby boy with dark curls, round cheeks and noses that had a slope to them. His bizcochito (little cake) had two pudíns (puddings). She looked exhausted and was covered in a sheen of sweat, but glowed under the fluorescent lights. He kissed each of his sons and then cupped Belinda’s face, kicking his shoes off and hopping in the hospital bed with her. The nurse warned that since she’s just given birth it’s best to be gentle with her. Frankie nodded. “Gracias mi amor (Thank you my love). You make me whole mi vida (my life). Can I give you and my sons my last name? I’m not going anywhere Belinda. You’re home to me.”

There’s no more anxiety or distress in his face. The lines on his face are from how wide Francisco Morales is smiling, even his eyes look like there might be glimmers in them. She wants to reach for his hair, his nose, run a thumb over his lips. Her sons busy her hands and arms. “I’ve given you two children Morales and heart. I’d better be getting your last name Francisco.” They both laughed, with Carmen hugging Santiago before Will and Benny walked in.

“There’s just so much love in this room. I have one question for you two, which kid is which? Am I the godfather to them both? Do I get to pick one?” Benny stands at the foot of the bed. All the adults in the room groaned and a pillow hit Benny in the face courtesy of Frankie.

Belinda and the babies remained in the hospital as did Frankie except to go home and get changes of clothes. Finally, after a week, they were able to go home. Their little village of friends had set up the cribs, bought pampers, bibs, onsies, toys, blankets, booties, and the newly engaged couple wasn’t sure what the rest was, but they would figure it out.

The night they came home with their sons, Frankie tested out each crib just in case, despite them being put together by Santiago and Will. They were fine. Eventually, both Rafael and Raúl were put down to sleep. Belinda was able to shower finally with Frankie’s help. Laying down in their bed, they watched their sons sleep.

“Everything’s finally fit together for us. It was pretty disjointed for a while there Belinda.”

“Yeah, we should have actually talked about it a lot sooner.”

“Before or after you asked me to move in while you were full?” She pinched Frankie’s nose.

“You’re lucky I’m not supposed to exert myself. Our timing is-“

“Impeccable. Given we’ve got dos pudíns velludos (two hairy puddings).” Frankie kisses her cheek and she tries to hold in her laughter, it makes her stomach and pelvis hurt.

“Do not call our sons hairy puddings. Also, all that hair is from both of us, though it looks like you spat them out.”

“I love them already so they have their nicknames like you do mi bizcochito. You’ll just have to live with it.”

“That’s all I’ve wanted Frankie it wasn’t quite in the order I thought but we’re in this together. I have all of you like you have all of me.”

A night like many to come where they dose off to sleep in each others’ arms and are awakened by one or both of their son’s crying. It’s alright because they work as a team to change, feed and burp them before reading various books. From Dr. Seuss to flight manuals they would impart pieces of themselves onto their children.

There were turns, trips, stumbles and misunderstandings but Frankie and Belinda proved that in spite of their differences and fears, the pieces could be put together to make them a family. Plus two.

VII - Eyes

Fans of the hairy puddings (Code name: R&R) 🍼🍼

@yorksgirl @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @guelyury

@bitchwitch1981 @katw474 @rosecentaur1916 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty

@maggiemayhemnj @schnarfer @rav3n-pascal22 @bishtrouille @alltheotps

@pedroshotwifey @readingiskeepingmegoing

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #francisco morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #Frankie morales x plus size ofc #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction

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anghraine · 7 months

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Dealing with images on Dreamwidth

Okay, one more Dreamwidth post!

DW is geared around text posts and currently handles images rather awkwardly. But it does actually have image hosting capabilities, though the space isn't unlimited (I've never come near to maxing it out). I was thinking about that and figured I could make a post over here about how I back up images to Dreamwidth, and then post them using the Rich Text Editor.

I tried to explain what I do as clearly as I could, but the detail might make it sound more complex and difficult than it really is. I'm sorry if so! But here goes:

Step 1: Go to the main page at www.dreamwidth.org. It should look something like this:

Step 2: Click the red button in the upper-right to log in. Once you do, the main page should look something like this:

Step 3: If you look below the Dreamwidth logo, you'll see five categories of things you can do. You want the first category, "Create." Click on it and select "Upload Images" from the drop-down list. I've put a blue circle around it in the picture below:

Step 4: Upload your picture!

The picture above is the standard "Upload Images" screen. From here, you can click the link to "View all your images" to see everything you've uploaded, and I think "manage your images" lets you adjust titles and descriptions of the images and such. But what you want is the "Browse" button. It'll take you to your computer files and you can upload the picture or pictures you want.

Let's suppose I want to upload two pictures from Baldur's Gate 3:

and

Okay. So after I click "Browse", find the right folder on my computer, and use CTRL+click to select both of these pictures (you can also upload pictures one-by-one if you wish), the space below the "Browse" button will show the pictures you've uploaded. It should look something like this:

There they are! You can give the pictures names in the "Title" boxes, but if you want the file names saved, make sure you click the "Save descriptions" button below the pictures (circled in blue below):

At this point (much faster than it sounds like), you've uploaded the pictures to your account where you can look at every picture or file you've ever uploaded to Dreamwidth. That's cool, but they're not actually in a post yet.

Step 5: Make a new post.

In a new tab, open Dreamwidth (www.dreamwidth.org) again. It's important that this is in a different tab and you don't navigate away from the one your pictures are showing on.

You should see the "Post" button in the upper right of the main page, below your username. I've circled it in blue here:

Click on "Post."

That'll take you to the Create Post page where you actually put things on your blog.

I'm currently trying out the beta version of this page that's going to get applied pretty soon, so the style looks a little different here than in standard Dreamwidth. I figured I'd use the beta version because a) it's what people will see in the future, and b) we're going to use the old Rich Text Editor that is the same in both styles.

The Rich Text Editor has a blue rectangle around it and a blue arrow pointing at it in the picture above.

Let's narrow in on the Rich Text Editor. Like in any post, you can just start typing into the Rich Text Editor, if you want words at all. So here I typed a little explanation for the BG3 pictures and put the cursor where I want the pictures to show up.

You can see that there's a bar of options above what I've typed, with buttons that let you bold, italicize, underline, etc. We want a button further on—the square button with a yellow background that looks like a tiny landscape of mountains and sunshine. I've put a blue circle around it on the screenshot below:

Step 6: Add your pictures!

Clicking on the little landscape button will open a box where you can paste the URL of any image you want to put in your Dreamwidth post. The image doesn't have to be hosted on Dreamwidth—you could paste a link to a picture on Tumblr or whatever—but it'll be more stable if it is, so that's what we're doing.

It looks like this:

Since we already uploaded our pictures to Dreamwidth in the earlier steps, we just need the URLs for the pictures. There's a pretty easy way to see what it is.

Step 7: Copy-paste the URL.

Click back to the tab with your newly uploaded pictures. There will be a code at the bottom of each one. In our case, it looks like this:

It might look a bit intimidating if you're not used to code, but you can ignore the most of it. You just want that little part that begins with https and ends with .jpg.

Copy the URL (I've put a blue box around it above) and click back to the Create Post tab. The "Image Properties" box from Step 6 should still be up.

Paste the URL into the top box that says "URL." I've surrounded the correct box with a red rectangle in this picture:

Hit the "OK" button at the bottom and:

You'll see tiny boxes around the frame. Those will go away if you click anywhere other than the picture; they're for adjusting the size.

Step 8: Adjust the picture if you want

You know how Tumblr automatically stretches/shrinks pictures to make them fit? Dreamwidth just leaves them the way they are, so if your original picture is very big, it will look very big, and if it's small, it will look small. But you can adjust the picture yourself.

Maybe my picture of Shadowheart seems really big compared to the text and I want it smaller. I'll click on the tiny box in the upper-left corner of the picture (that one simply because it's the most convenient) and drag it inwards until the picture is the size I want.

And there she is!

BTW: No matter what size you make a picture look in your post, once it is posted, you can always right-click with your mouse and say "open image in new tab" to see it in its real size.

Here's a real post I made with a picture of Shadowheart I'd slightly shrunk in the Dreamwidth editor:

But if I right-click on the image and tell it to open in another tab, you can see that the saved picture is actually full-size:

So feel free to adjust your picture in the post however you want; it won't change the version you originally uploaded to Dreamwidth.

I'm sure there are other ways to do this, but that's how I get images uploaded to Dreamwidth and then embedded in Dreamwidth posts!

#there's been talk of a proper image upload function within Create Post but they've had more urgent updates so ... maybe #for now this works though #anghraine babbles #dreamwidth #long post #anghraine's pics

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