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gay-dorito-dust · 7 days

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Could I request Jason Todd with an s/o who enjoys making art of him? Sketches, paintings, etc.

Jason never saw himself as ever being a muse for someone else’s art, their reason to immeditly rush to their sketch pads or canvas and let the ideas flow out and take form however that maybe.

It was a reality he had came to accept until you came along and happily challenged this view he had on himself, and without fail you’ve proven him wrong again and again on multiple occasions.

Finally he had became a muse to somebody and he couldn’t help but be touched and feel extremely loved and appreciated whenever you shown him a simple sketch of him doing something mundane, whether that be making dinner for you both or reading a book, you just had a way of showing him how you see him through your art.

‘It’s a simple sketch I made this morning, nothing fancy.’ You’d shrug as Jason looked over your drawings of him and smiled.

‘If this is what you call a simple sketch then I’m all out of luck in ever attempting to take up drawing, this is amazing sweetheart!’ He’d say as he peppered your face with sweet, thankful kisses before moving away to look at the drawing once more, taking note on how much attention to detail there was in what you claimed was a simple sketch.

You drew him with such love for everything that made him in his entirety. You took extra care in drawing his every scar that littered his body, big and small. From the largest scar running from his collarbones and down his entire upper body, to the various scars scattered on his neck, forearms, hands and back.

You didn’t try to hide his impurities and instead actively chose to emphasise them in a way that he never thought existed. You didn’t try to make him look palatable nor tried to draw/paint him in anyway that wasn’t true to his character and he loved it. He loved the fact that you saw him for who he was and found him worth spending hours upon hours of drawing for.

‘I’m sure you’ll pick it up jay bird, besides I like drawling you.’ You admit.

‘Why?’ He asks softly.

‘What?’

‘Why do you like drawing me? What is it about me that worth immortalising on a canvas or in the pages of a sketchbook?’ Jason says as he looks at other sketches/paintings you’ve done of him in your spare time and felt his heart grow bigger with each and every one he came across.

You even sketched him in that stupid bunny onesie that Dick got him after loosing a bet, much to his dismay and the rest of his family’s amusement. Once upon a time he would’ve been ashamed at that his most embarrassing moment had been sketched out onto paper, but now he just shrugs and laughs it off, finally finding it funny as everyone else did at the time.

‘Because everything about you is worth immortalising, whether it be as a sketch or as a painting, you -Jason Todd- are worth remembering well into the future.’ You tell him as you took the sketchbook out of his grasp and settled it aside to hold his face in your hands, smiling upon seeing him melt deeper into your touch. ‘I didn’t feel like portraying you in any way that wasn’t true to who you are, at least in my eyes.’ You add.

‘And what do I look like in your eyes?’ Jason speaks barely above a whisper as he looks at you with storm grey eyes, a stark difference to the bright cobalt blue of his youth.

‘Perfectly imperfect.’ You kiss his forehead. ‘A Human with a heart of pure gold despite everything you’ve been through.’ You press another kiss to his nose. ‘A true protector of Gotham who bares the scars to prove it every night.’ You finished praising him by place a soft kiss to his plush, slightly chapped lips and pressing your forehead against his. ‘You’re Jason Todd. My muse.’

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagines

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plleeeepppyyyy · 1 year

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wally + clumsy and silly reader!

wally likes them silly,,

these are just little ramblings of wally with a silly reader.,,

_____

★★★ — ★★★★★★ ★★★★★★ — ★★★

you were always known around the neighborhood to be clumsy, you were always clumsy y/n! silly y/n, always tripping over everything. which made you frustrated, despite the others giggling and helping you out.

but, this really didn’t stop you from doing a lot! it made you happy that your friends could at least get entertainment out of your clumsiness. so, you didn’t mind much at times. you were always going around making others laugh, without having to break your head.

you were bouncing around, falling, then coming right back up. if anyone could describe you, you would be a bouncy ball.

as you did this, you noticed a certain blue haired fellow. wally, he was.. different. when you would look at him; you just see him staring at something. or remark about something. he was just chill, whenever you would be around barnaby. he was there. just looking at either the two of you. and for some reason, you felt embarrassed as you did a silly thing.

as if he was silently judging you and it made you feel stupid. nonetheless though, you kept your act up. wanting others to be happy. cause thats what you were, silly, clumsy, happy y/n!

so, one day, you were just strolling around, doing daily shopping and whatnot. till you tripped, for like what? the millionth time? maybe nobody saw it, right?

well, not exactly,,

wally just happened to be right in front of you, holding out his hand. which made you instantly nervous, i made how could you not? just looking up at him, with his usual intense stare, those doting eyes, admittedly it made you more embarrassed by the encounter. more embarrassed to be around him.

but, he didn’t laugh, nor tease you, he just held his hand out. calling out in his calm tone, asking if you were fine.

after stammering out a yes, he dusted you off and helped you out. to admit, you never talked to wally much before, have you? yes, you greeted one another, but imagining yourself tripping daily right in front of him was humiliating.

so, you kept your distance more than usual.

after he helped you out and went on his way, it made you feel a bit bad. for practically trying to ignore him, being too careful around him. you just couldn’t help it though! he was so calm, intense at times, maybe you could even say aloof. after that encounter though, you definitely changed your mind.

after many thoughts dawning on you, you decided to hang around him more often. and he drew you in more. he was just alluring,, soo cool, definitely relaxed. more than you usually were. you were tripping all over the place, just making the others giggle, and you were a bit dumb at times,, (sorry

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

just silly you were, wally definitely thought you were charming. you were just nice to watch, you would do your own thing, usually break a thing or too, he loved watching you.

he would usually be there to help you back up after you fall, watch you, and giggle at you at times. he didn’t want to lie, you were so charming. you really were like a cartoon character.

basically you guys started being attached at the hip, which was a great surprise to the others! they always saw you together nowadays, wally would just follow along while you were skipping around, missing a beat once a while as you talked and talked. while he listened without a care about anything else.

(basically you guys are calm + hyper)

during this period, wally DEFINITELY wants you to be his muse,, his inspiration. it doesn’t matter if you’re always moving , or bouncing your leg, or always bumping into stuff. he wants to paint you, sketch you, just,, to him you’re so fun to look and see. why not paint you daily? he definitely has an art portfolio of just you, ranging from sketches to paintings. it’s totallyyy not because he’s in love wit you.

he also finds himself staring at you 24/7, even if you guys are hanging out with poppy, julie, baranby, or anyone. he’ll just admire you more than he ever did before. back then, he would hum and watch you a bit as you did another silly thing. nowadays, when you would be fumbling with a straw for your juice, doing something silly, or just anything. it makes him kick his feet, it’s just so endearing, you’re so endearing.

it’s not only wally falling in more, it’s also you.

i mean, what’s not to love about wally? he’s so smooth, calm, he definitely is the type of dude whose got it all under control. he was just,, the opposite of you. maybe that was what attracted you to him, he just was elegant. at least compared to you, when you thought about it.

he was good at everything, he drew well, spoke well, walked well too. you weren’t that for sure, it was like he could guide you through anything. and you’d make it out okay. it made you feel better about your clumsiness.

hopefully by your silly antics and such, it would make it worth while for him.

wally notices on how much you try to make him happy, how you always offer to pose for him, give him ideas; always giving him stuff. it warms his heart to be honest, the fact you’re trying so much for him makes him feel happy.

later into ur guy’s relationship, you both def get comfy. a minute with you two and you already know something’s definitely going on.

cause you guys are just basically flirting at this point, well you can consider wally is, idk about you tho,, ur for sure doin something! (٥⁀▽⁀ )

but if we’re being for real, you guys def flirt. in ur own little ways, wally is pretty smooth when it comes to flirting. once in a while,, he’s pretty awkward with it, due to his,, tone at times. but the other times he’s good at it, like he for sure had some practice (≧◡≦) ♡

literally everyone around you two are just sick of it, you two think ur being sneaky with the flirting, nope! they’re basically bystanders wandering if you guys will finally announce that you’re finally an item!!

you for sure did something like,

“this ones for you wally!!(•̀ᴗ•́)و 🏀”

then the ball misses and launches back onto your head, bonking you sillier.

wally is charmed! ♡︎

it took a while for you guys to happen, wally for instance was actually a bit confused. it took him a bit to figure out what he was feeling, he found you silly, charming, cute,,

okay, maybe he thought you were something for sure.

while you,, poor you,, you just got nervous around him and NEVER would’ve talked to him about ur feelings. like., you just felt like he was out of your league.

but, you two eventually happened,, you did it! ( ˘ ³˘)

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

today was simple, just you, wally, and him sketching. you kept peeking over at what exactly he was sketching, it varied to be honest. apples,, a dog, or just some scribbles.

how could he just simply draw? so easily, while the best you could come up with was chicken scratch. nonetheless, wally was patient with you, he just accepted you. even if you didn’t do anything that impressive.

speaking of this, why did he do that? he just accepted you daily, he would just coo and praise you over anything. how he didn’t mind how much you tripped over something or bumped into one of his art supplies. now that wasn’t simple.

“uhm, hey wally?” wally perked his head up as you spoke up, putting his full attention on you. you felt a bit intimidated as he looked at you with those eyes of his. even if you two came this far, you always found yourself flustered by his presence.

“yes, darling?” he asked, keeping his usual smile up. you cleared your throat and spoke back, “not to be too disruptive but.. i’ve got a question.” he watched you as you sat yourself on the grass. you could feel the spring air flow by as he looked at you with question.

“you’re never disruptive, but do tell. what’s got you thinking, y/n?” as you tried to get your words together, you sighed as you felt yourself get nervous. why did you get nervous? he was just your partner, why be so shy? god, if only you weren’t this flustered all of the time.

“uhm, okay so.. you know how clumsy i am? like, to the point where it’s my whole personality?” you drawled out personality, wally hummed. “well, i wouldn’t say that is your whole personality, but go on.” he said with sincerity, which made you cringe at yourself.

“it’s just.. why do you even like me? i just, i’m so.. stupid at times. i’m always fooling myself out while you— you’re just not that. you know?” you winced at yourself at your explanation, it was clumsy as you usually were.

wally paused for a bit, looking at you with an emotion you can’t really describe. maybe it was pity? concerned? you couldn’t really tell, sometimes whenever he looked at you, you just couldn’t say what he was thinking.

all he did was sigh and close his sketchbook, putting it beside him as he patted his lap. you knew immediately what that meant as you shuffled beside him, laying your head right on his lap. as you did so, he stroked your hair gently.

“now, why would you think about yourself like that?” he asked in his usual soft tone, “i think you’re perfect the way you are, not stupid.” wally looked down at you as he stroked your hair.

wally would never understand how you could think of yourself like that. to him, you were just perfect for him.

“well, it’s just— i.. i don’t know why you gave me a chance.” you mumbled out of embarrassment, wally looked at you with an amused expression. “remember that day when, we actually got to talk? when i tripped right in front of you? i tried so hard to stop that from happening. because, well, you’re the type of person. i don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of. clearly i didn’t do such a good job on that, huh?”

you kept your focus on your hands, not daring to look at him. you noticed how his hand stopped, he kept his hand right on your head.

“y/n.. why would that matter? i have seen you trip tons before.. and, plus, i don’t mind how much you bump, trip, or fall. i’m always there to help you back up, right?” he made you look up as he titled your head upward, “i think its charming.. not how you get hurt at times, of course. but, the way you keep getting back up after you trip, it’s.. well, its admirable. you’re admirable.”

you both paused as silence dawned on the two of you, it made you think. he really loved you, didn’t he?

“you mean that, right?” you asked, looking up at eyes he could never say no too.

wally let a soft chuckle out. “of course i do, silly. gee, you’re asking all of these silly questions.. i mean every,” he leaned down to kiss your head. “word. i promise.” his words made you smile, to the point where you could kick your legs and giggle.

“thanks, sweets. sorry, i’ve just been thinking a lot.” you hummed as you felt better about the whole thing. wally nodded and kissed your head again, keeping your head on his lap.

“but, besides that, what really drew you toward me?” you asked another question, wally hummed in thought as he stroked your hair some more. as if he was thinking.

“a lot of things.. but, it was cute seeing you do funny things. you were just a silly little neighbor to me back then, even still..”

“hm, that’s nice.. wait!” you quickly sat up, “what do you mean silly little neighbor?! could’ve at least said lover.” you whined as he chuckled quietly. “ah, yes. you’re right, silly little lover. you’re my silly little lover, right?”

wally hummed in amusement as you huffed, “guess so.. if you’re gonna call me something stupid you might as well make it less stupid.” wally shook his head and pulled you back to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“oh you, it’s not stupid.. and you definitely are the opposite of stupid.” he giggled and kissed your cheek, he definitely was feeling touchy today.

you couldn’t help but relax back into his arms. you were his silly little lover, his. and that made you okay with tripping daily, if it meant that.

as you closed your eyes and leaned against him more, he let out a little gasp. which made you jump a bit, “oh my, i gotta go give barnaby his microphone back..” he sighed and pulled you off of him gently, looking at his watch.

“you wanna come with, love?” wally asked as he grabbed his stuff, you quickly nodded. as he got up, he held his hand up. looking at you the same as he did the first time, admiration.

you took his hand without hesitation, you stumbled over a bit as you stood up.

he hummed in fondness, “you got it?”

“yep, totally!” you huffed in confidence, but after one step almost tripped over. you cursed yourself mentally.

“uhm.. how about i just hold onto you?” you sheepishly asked as you wrapped your arm around wally’s.

“not a problem with me, darling.”

★_________________________________★

(character and artwork belongs to partycoffin!)

okayy,, i made this a bit longer than i expected it to,, but thats fine. anyways i think i figured out how to open up my inbox! sooo,, if you guys want me to write more stuff about wally or anyone else. im up for it!

btw THANK U GUYS FOR ALL THOSE NOTES YOU GAVE ME LAST TIME (•̀ᴗ•́)ミ❤︎︎

#wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #romantic #imagines #silly

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cuubism · 3 months

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i went to physical therapy for my stupid broken arm so as is my legal obligation i HAD to make ship content about it. everything is ship content that's how it is

cw injury, referenced abusive relationships

Hob's had plenty of clients come to physical therapy who clearly don't want to be there. Plenty of others who are reasonably frustrated by the work and time involved in regaining functioning after an injury. But this is the first time he's just had someone be... quiet. Resigned.

Dream sits with his hand cradled to his chest, barely speaking, only answering when Hob asks a direct question. He's reluctant to give Hob his hand when Hob asks if he can look at it, like he thinks Hob's grip is a bear trap that will snap down and crush the bones like whatever had done so the first time. Hob still doesn't know what that was. All he knows is the bones have been realigned and healed over but the dexterity in his hand still isn't right. That was what Dream had said, in the first spark of passion Hob had heard from him. It's not right.

But he does eventually give his hand over. His bones are so fine and delicate, and each movement hesitant. Cautious. Hob tests the flexibility. The strength. Dream is right, it's not where it should be. He still doesn't know what happened.

"I won't make you tell me if you really don't want to," Hob says gently. "But it is important to know how it happened to make sure we rehab it the right way. Did you get it caught in something? I've seen guys come in with machine injuries like that."

Nothing about Dream suggests "person who works with heavy machinery." But who knows. Hob will try not to stereotype.

"No," Dream says quietly, looking down and away from his hand like he can't bear to see it. "I. I am an artist. My ex... he felt that I cared more about my art than about him. Perhaps I did. And he was... frustrated. I suppose."

Hob can put the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Jesus," he breathes, and Dream flinches.

"I have an unfortunate ability to involve myself with such people," he says.

"No, it's not your fault," Hob says automatically.

Dream narrows his eyes. "You presume to know that?"

Hob raises his hands in surrender. "Never mind. I won't pry." He's not Dream's therapist. His job is to help him with his hand, not... whatever else is going on in his life.

He takes Dream's hand carefully between both of his own again. Presses down lightly on his knuckles. "So. Crushed. Like that?"

Dream nods. Hob still doesn't know all the details, but he's imagining a boot going down hard on the top of Dream's hand. The thought is sickening.

"Can you fix it?" Dream asks, like he doesn't dare to hope.

"Well, you already had it repaired surgically, yeah?" Hob says. This strikes him as a bit of good luck--hand fractures are not simple--but he doesn't want to undercut Dream's confidence even further by saying so. He's usually pretty good at reading his clients, and he's already sensing that Dream is holding onto his determination to be here at all by the barest thread. Best to build him up as much as possible. "So it's just a matter of strengthening the muscles again."

He's fairly confident he can get him back to a usual level of functioning with it. The question is whether he can return him to the specific level of dexterity he needs for his art. He doesn't say that. Not yet.

Finally, he gets the tiniest of smiles out of Dream. He's really lovely when he smiles.

(He's pretty when he doesn't smile, too. Hob would have to be blind not to notice it.)

"So," Hob says. "Let's look at the current range of motion, yeah?"

Dream tilts his head. "Did you not already do so?"

"For regular motion, yeah. But I want to see where it's impacting your drawing."

Dream draws his hand back, looking uncertain.

"Come on." Hob hands him a pen and paper. "Show me. I promise I know nothing about art. If it's not up to your usual standards, I'm not going to be able to tell."

Finally, Dream takes the pen, and starts sketching.

Hob watches, noting the way his hand trembles, his uneven grip on the pen. Notes how quickly he gets demoralized when it doesn't turn out the way he wants. Hob can make out what he's written and drawn, but it's clear from Dream's expression that it's far from how it's supposed to be.

"This is just a starting point," Hob reminds him. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of those sorts of reminders with Dream; he does not seem to find optimism easy.

Then again, if someone who supposedly loved him had hurt him like that, Hob would probably find optimism a bit difficult, too.

Finally, Dream drops the pen, clearly frustrated. "I have tried to paint at home, too. It has not turned out any better. You should throw those away." He gestures to the sketches. "They are terrible."

"Nah, I'm gonna keep them," Hob says, and puts them in his folder. "For comparison later." It could also partially be because he finds Dream's drawings of cats, imperfect as they are, charming. Sue him.

"As you insist," Dream says.

Hob gives him documentation on some other exercises he can do at home. Tries to think through what might make him feel better with his art. It feels, somehow, so important to make him feel better.

"At home, go easy on trying to use a pen, or paintbrush or whatever, it's hard on your hand," he finally says. "But you probably want to get back to your art, so-- okay, don't make fun of me if this is stupid."

Dream just raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Maybe Hob should try to learn more about art before he gives advice. Nevertheless, he forges on. "Holding a pen is tough, but if you wanted to like, finger paint or something? That would probably be fine. Might be good for flexibility, even."

"Finger paint," Dream repeats, enunciating each word.

"I told you not to make fun of me if it was stupid."

Dream smiles, just a small thing, like he finds Hob ridiculous but in a charming way. Good enough, Hob figures.

"Very well," Dream says at last. "I will take your advice."

Dream simply walking out had felt like a distinct possibility, so Hob will take this as a win.

"Hey," he says later, catching Dream for a moment as he's checking him out. "It's going to get better, yeah? Trust me. Don't worry too hard, just give it time."

He really shouldn't make promises like that. But he can't seem to help it, with Dream.

Dream considers, then says. "I do trust you."

Hob finds that it means a lot. Now he's just going to have to earn it.

#i really am writing the most random indulgent shit this week XD #you know this was a missed opportunity to do 'forbidden romance between a physical therapist and a ballerina' like that ridiculous romance #novel that was going around XD #anyway don't take physical therapy advice from this #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #cw abuse #long post #perhaps i'll write more after my next appointment XD #physical therapy fic

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anikaluv · 10 months

Text

JUST FOR PRACTICE —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!42) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff (slight angst?)

❤︎︎ cw: cussing, nail biting, Miles (e!42) is named Myles (creative Ik), Miles (e!42) teases reader a lil bit <3

❤︎︎ summary: Spider-Man!Miles and Prowler!Miles as Twins where you have a crush on Miles (e!1610) and Miles (e!42) suggests you make out with him for practice.

❤︎︎ w/c: 1.6k

❤︎︎ a/n: I was reading miles morales x reader fics then I thought of this and went “It would be so cool if someone wrote it”. Then I did, cause I’m a bitch who gets shit done. 😘

PART TWO EXTRA

You and Miles have been inseparable since y’all were born. You two seemed to be tied together like a knot. You could always fondly go back and look through memories of him holding your hand while leading you through forests, him sharing his PB&J’s with you during lunch time, and him protecting you numerous times from bullies as the years went by. He was always there for you.

So much that you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

Yet you were too scared to ruin the deep friendship you two have. Too terrified of the chance that everything you two had going to waste because of your feelings, so you kept to yourself.

Which leads you to the present day, you sit on Miles’ bed as he takes a shower before you start the study session you both had planned.

Nervously, you fidget with your fingers, eagerly awaiting his return. The truth is, you don't need these study sessions. As an all-A student, you grasp the subjects effortlessly. However, you seize any opportunity to spend time with Miles.

Your mind wonders as curious eyes scan his room and land on his sketchbook. Your instinctively get up and reach for it, not caring for the overstep of privacy because c’mon, you knew this guy before you knew how to walk.

Excitement courses through you as you eagerly flip through the pages, revealing beautiful sketches of family, sunflowers, among other things. However, as you reach the more recent pages, your heart starts to sink.

Gwanda, Miles' so-called friend who conveniently always seems to be "out of town," yet he never ceases to endlessly complement her and fills his sketchbook to the brim with pages of her. What's so extraordinary about her? You've known Miles since you both were starting to crawl, while she has only been in his life for a few months, and suddenly she's this incredible person?

With a heavy sigh, you set your sketchbook down, feeling your vision blur as you make your way back to sit on Miles' bed. Tears well up quickly as you bury your face in your hands, sobbing silently. Unfortunately, the sound of approaching footsteps awakens your senses. You hastily wipe your eyes with your sleeve, although it's already too late.

"Oh great, looks like la llorona (crybaby) is sobbing once more. What's the matter, ma?" Miles strolls in, his voice oozing with condescension. He leans against the doorway, owning a smug expression. You can't help but roll your eyes and let out an exasperated groan at the mere sight of him.

Myles Morales. The worst person you’ve ever met. You’ve always wondered how him and Miles are even related. Ever since you were little he’s been a stick up your ass. You would always go back and flinch through memories of him pulling your hair as you scream and cry, him destroying all of your brand new dolls because they “needed a makeover ” , and him notoriously bullying you numerous times mercilessly as the years went by. He was always there, annoying you.

You cross you arms and let out a exasperated huff as you turn away from him. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy Morales? I’m not in the mood.” Myles chuckles at your childish behavior and struts into the room to sit beside you.

He inspects your face, frowning at your red eyes and stuffy nose. “I’m serious, mami. Those pretty tears only look good on your face if I’m causing ‘em.“ Myles softly grabs your chin and moves your face towards his. He raised his fingers to softly wipe your tears as you look deeply into his eyes.

Your heart quickens yet instead you release the insult bubbling in your throat. "Thanks for your oh-so-worrisome concern, Morales," you retort, venom lacing your words. He smirks in response. “Anytime, princesa (princess). I’m serious though, you cryin’ cause of my brother again?” You nod slowly looking away from his pitying gaze.

You bite your nails as your eyes look around the room once more landing on Miles sketchbook. Pain flickers in your eyes, catching Myles' attention.

The realization settles in Myles which is showcased by his new scowl on his face. “Ah I see, Its cause of that lil’ white chick, right?” Your eyes widen at how Myles was able to guess it correctly, you nod again slowly and try to concentrate on breathing before you continue wailing. “I just don’t understand, what’s so special about her? Was I ever even special to him if I could be replaced so easily?” You clench your fists, digging your nails into the fabric of your jeans, scrunching them up as your lip quivers.

Myles sucks his teeth in annoyance, followed by a deep sigh that catches your attention. “Why don’t you just tell him this, ma? Bet that’ll make him realize what’s in front of him.” You quickly shake your head, rejecting the idea. "I can't. It's not that simple. If I confess how I truly feel, what if it ruins everything? I can't risk that," you explain anxiously. Myles rolls his eyes at your dramatic response.

"There's no way it would go down like that, but let's entertain your idea. Are you saying all it would take is courage for you to confess to him?" he asks, testing the waters. There’s a different look in Myles eyes, they’re filled with mischief as he slowly scoots towards you.

“Well, yeah, I guess? Why?" You answer your voice layered with curiosity at Myles newfound demeanor. You tilt your head in confusion, What was he planning?

A gasp escapes your lips as Myles firmly grabs you waist tightly. His big hands pull you against him harshly. Instantly his lips lock with yours, showcasing deep desire as his kisses you. Your eyes widen momentarily before you surrender, closing them gently and placing a hand on his chest.

You wrap your arms around Myles' neck, deepening the kiss, your tongues intertwining desperately. He tastes so sweet, like slightly burnt caramel. Your body molds into his, feeling the hard contours of his muscled yet lean chest beneath your palm as you press into him.

You let out a soft whine against his lips, the sound echoing with a mix of pleasure and longing. Your breaths become heavy, synchronized with the intensity of the moment. Your mind becomes fuzzy, confused how you got to this point.

"There's no way it would go down like that, but let's entertain your idea. Are you saying all it would take is courage for you to confess to him?"

“Well, yeah, I guess? Why?"

“Why not just practice the having the real thing wit me?” Myles watched you scoff at the idea and laughs softly.

“I’m serious, ma. C’mon, just for practice, it’ll only be fo a lil bit. Just imagine I’m him” Myles brings his face closer to yours making your noses brush against each other.

“It’ll only be for a sec right?”, you question Myles nods, sensing he’s winning you over. “Promise, mi alma (my soul)”

You nod your head, and that gave him everything he needed.

Now you have your arms wrapped around Miles neck, playing with his braids as he layers kisses across your collarbone, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. Myles tugs at your shirt rising it up to lay his hand against your waist skin to skin. The heat from his hand placed on your waist shoots heat throughout your body.

You begin to sway, your strength ebbing away as your mind becomes blissfully hazy. Myles, ever attentive, keeps you steady, his hand resting firmly on your back while the other remains securely on your waist. He rises slightly, locking eyes with you, a playful chuckle escaping his lips as he delights in your slightly intoxicated-like state.

“C’mon, mi vida, you can’t be tired yet. I just got you.” he playfully teases, causing your face to twist with confusion. You lean your head into his shoulder leaving kisses along his neck.

Myles takes up your hand and interlocks it with his fingers. He tilts your face up to him. You look into his eyes and see something there, you just can’t tell what. He places kisses laced with adoration across your face, feeling like lighting sparks erupting across your skin.

“Mami, I haven’t always been the nicest to you, I admit that, but I also wanna admit that I-“

Right on cue, you once again hear the steps of someone walking towards the room. It must be Miles finishing his shower.

Your suddenly feel a wash of consciousness rush through your senses as you try to shuffle and fix your wrinkled clothing and correct your shriveled hair. Myles watches you and smirks at your attempt to clean up.

Miles soon steps into the room wearing a fresh set of clothes, “Sorry it took me so long, I got way into my shower playlist haha. You ready to sta-“ He eyes land on you and Myles, you watch as his face turns to confusion.

“Imma take that as my sign to leave” Myles gets up and heads to the doorway and starts to head out, before he turns his neck around to say one more thing. “I’ll see you around, ma. Let me know if you ever need more practice aight?”

EXTRA: You hurriedly shuffle to your backpack to go get your notebooks and supplies you usually use for your study sessions. As you do that Miles can’t help but watch as his brother slowly struts out the room pride written all over his face. Miles swore that as his twin left the room his could see a lipstick stain adorning Myles’ neck.

ENDING A/N: Thank you for reading this- Ion know if imma keep writing I just felt like making this at 2 am lol. Also please lmk if this is fast paced or not, that was on my mind while writing this whole thing. 💀 Love ya’ll babes <3

TAGS:

#anika❤︎︎writes #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales × reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miles morales spider man #prowler miles #earth 42 miles x reader #atsv miles #atsv #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff

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tlbodine · 6 months

Text

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

#writing tips #nanowrimo #writing advice #nano 2023 #writeblr #writing community #plotting vs pantsing #junebugging

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eufezco · 4 months

Text

THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

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byunpum · 1 year

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Hi hope you're doing well 💗

Can i ask a one-shot with a shy reader who doesn't really show affection to neteyam. BUT one day she wants to make the first move so she kiss him without any warning. AND neteyam go FERAL bc it turn him one (or he can just be a blushing mess ) it can be smut or just fluff if you are okay with it ofc :)

Pairing: Neteyam x human reader

Tags: crushes, Cute, baby boii neteyam.

Warning:the characters have 20's

Note: As you know my drafts had been deleted. For example this one was going to be much longer. But still, I did what I could remembering what I had already written. I still hope you like it a lot. I didn't want to make this smut, because the next post …. get ready!!! buajajaja

AVATAR MASTERLIST

Neteyam's method of showing affection was hugs, touching and caressing. While on your part it was to turn red as a tomato every time neteyam came closer than a foot away. You had the biggest crush that could exist in all of pandora. And that's saying a lot. Loak was always making fun of your sketchbook that was full of sketches of neteyam, no matter what he was doing. You would sit far away and draw him. But you didn't get too close to him and you didn't talk to him much. While loak, kiri were very close to you, you kept your distance from neteyam. You thought that if you got too close, you would ruin everything.

On the other hand, neteyam thought you hated him. Yes… you hated him with all your soul and he knew it. Every time he tried to reach out to give you a hug. You would open your eyes wide and pull away. Or when they were playing with each other. It was truth or dare… and he chose dare. Spider dared him to give you a kiss. Neteyam got close to your face, he was excited… he saw your face turn red and you pushed him away. Getting up from your place and running out to your room. Everyone was silent, looking at each other. Neteyam was heartbroken, the boy was in love with you and you hated him.

But what bothered him the most was your closeness with loak. Why loak? i mean…the boy was not a good match for you. And yet you were more affectionate with him, it wasn't like you were on top of him all day. But if you let loak put his arm on your shoulder, or let him play with your hair a little bit. Or sit next to you. It was killing him, because he wanted to have that contact with you.

Neteyam had taken the day off, and decided to go to the small station that the humans had set up on one of the islets of the Metkayina clan, after the battles. Norm and several scientists were welcomed to the islands to help. And you were part of that group. "Hey…nete" greets norm as he sees the boy enter. "Hi norm…how are you?" neteyam greets politely. As he tried to look for you somewhere in the small lab. "Are you looking for Y/N?" says norm, teasing the boy a little. Neteyam laughs nervously. At that very moment you emerge from one of the storage rooms. You shift your gaze past neteyam.

"Y/n…h-hello!!!" says neteyam excitedly following a few steps behind you. His tail wagged back and forth, until you felt him tap you on the arm. "I'm so sorry" neteyam moved away a little bit. "Don't worry nete" you looked up to look at neteyam, you saw how excited he was. Maybe he was happy about something else. Norm walked over to you. "Y/N honey…please I need you to help me get some samples. I need you to bring me some leaves of this plant" Norm showed you a picture. "This plant grows in the forested area of this island" you take the tablet to look further into what you were going to look for. "Why doesn't Neteyam come with you?" says Norm, looking at Neteyam to give him a wink. Neteyam laughs a little but shifts his gaze so you don't spot them.

"Ahhh I don't know if…maybe" you say as you muddle over your words. "It's no problem…I'm free" neteyam almost screams with excitement. Once again his tail taps you on the arm, you nudge it a little. "Ready…well go then, I need them before nightfall" says norm, refocusing on his work. "Let's go neteyam" you say, taking the sample tube and handing it to neteyam to put in her waist bag. You stand a little quietly as you watch neteyam's hands slide down to his waist. He looks up to see how you are looking at him. "All good" the boy teases. "Yeah yeah come on" you push him a little. You could push him all day, if this was going to be the only form of contact with you, He was going to let you manhandle him all you want.

They walked a bit through the wooded area, you were in the front and neteyam was in the back enjoying the view. "hey why aren't you wearing the outfit I gave you?" asks neteyam following in your footsteps. "I've kept it…I haven't had a chance to wear it" you say. You hear neteyam chuckle a little, but you decide to ignore him. Sometime later you see the plant near a small waterfall, you walk over and sit down on one of the rocks. Neteyam sits down next to you, pulling out the sample tube. " wow…this plant is beautiful" you say, as you pluck several leaf samples.

"You say you can't use my gift…but look" neteyam touches the bracelet on your arm. "loak gave this to you last week and you are wearing it" spits neteyam waiting for you to react. " nete… this is a accessory, you gave me a complete navi outfit" you say trying to take the sample tube from his hands. Neteyam moves his hands away. "So? I made it myself for you…but it's okay. Everything I do sucks for you," Neteyam says. You remain silent, he just said that you think he disgusts you. "What the hell are you saying?" you say. Neteyam relaxes a little, you can see how frustrated he was.

"Why are you avoiding me…why don't you want me to be by your side? Even now…" neteyam takes the tube and then you watch as he takes your hand and places the object there in the palm of your hand. You didn't want to say anything, you didn't dare. You didn't have the courage to tell him that the only reason you didn't approach him was because you were a nervous wreck around him. You quickly took the samples, and started on your way to the lab. On the way back to the station, neither of you dared to speak. You arrived at the lab, entered and noticed how it was empty.

"He asks me for these samples and then disappears" you complain, as you place the tube of samples on norm's desk. You turn to see neteyam, he was sitting on a improvised couch that norm had created for the size of the avatars. "Neteyam… you don't disgust me" you say, causing the boy to look up. "Really?" the boy scoffs a little. You walk over to neteyam and sit down next to him. "Didn't you like my gift?" asks Neteyam. The boy looks at you, see how you avoid looking at him. "You see…you don't even want to look at me and " you get up from the couch, getting on your knees so you can reach neteyam's face in your hands. You pull him close and kiss him. Neteyam's eyes open wide. You pull away and sit quietly beside him.

Neteyam felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. His cheeks grew warm, as he broke out in a cold sweat. You had kissed him." I have a notebook dedicated only to you… and I don't come close because I don't know how to act around you" you say shyly. Before you begin to speak, you feel neteyam's lips collide with yours again. But this time you let your emotions fly and do what they have to do.

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mordredisacoolname · 2 months

Text

BRIDGERTON BROS FALLING FOR A MALE READER

Male reader

HEADCANONS

Characters: Anthony, Benedict, Colin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anthony

-this boy is in DENIAL

-what do you mean he's in love with a MAN??

-he's so doomed

-you were very tight before

-spent every day together

-he really enjoyed your company, more than anyone, and he didn't understand why

-but when he realized he loved you he started avoiding you like the plug

-you don't understand why

-even tho you made peace with liking men and than fact that you're in love with your best friend, you didn't think he returned the feeling

-so you think you did something wrong

-you try talking to him but every time he finds an excuse to be somewhere else

-he is jealous of every man you talk to

-he doesn't have the right, but he still feels it

-after weeks of avoiding you he realizes the feeling won't go away

-so he with Benedict to a party, and sees you kissing a man

-you mean he has a chance with you???

-he barges to the room, his fist aching to punch the other guy, but he controls that feeling and just orders him to get the fuck out

-you're shocked, both just standing there staring at each other

-anthony steps closer to you starting intensely at your eyes

-"I think..." He doesn't finish the sentence and just kisses you

Benedict

-he first meets you in an art class

-watching your hand gracefully moving the paint brush on the canvas

-his starting is interrupted by lord Granville, asking him why haven't he started sketching

-by the end of the class you compliment him on his painting, making him feel something funny in his chest

-next time you're both in the studio he gathers the courage to talk to you, learning you'll be at the Granville's party next week

-you both meet there and spend the whole night together, you invite him to your studio, just the both of you

-he spends the leading days thinking about you

-"so, you want to pose or should I do it?" You ask him once you've taken out the canvas

-"I'd like to paint you" he saying with a playful twinkle in his eyes

-you settle into the chair in front of the canvas, posing for him

-"you know, I've been wanting to practice some anatomy"

-you understand the hint and take off your top, smiling to yourself

-after he's finished for the day you get up to look at what he did

-"so, what do you think"

-"this is amazing" you tell him

-"well, the muse is all to blame" he gets closer to you, looking briefly at your lips

-"oh sorry, next time I'll make sure to move in my sit and not let you work"

-"I won't be complaining if you were the one distracting me"

-he smirks looking into your eyes

-this waiting is killing you so you lean forward pressing your lips against his

-"we'll see next time" you say and leave him standing alone in the studio, eager for your next session

Colin

-you're a featherington relative visiting your family

-you're the closest to Penelope, always getting along

-you arrive together at the ball, all dressed up

-you're in a middle of a conversation with Pen when a man interrupts you to say hello to Pen

-"oh hello, I haven't seen you before" he looks at you in slight awe

-"I'm Penelope's distant relative, 'name', nice to meet you Mr....?"

-it takes Colin a couple seconds to respond "oh right, I'm Colin bridgerton"

-"the famous bridgerton, what a pleasure"

-"famous? You've heard of me?"

-"of course, Penelope never stops talking about you Mr bridgerton" you smirk at her red face

-"ah, that's nice, I think"

-"well, I shall go speak to other people, enjoy your night, Colin"

-he's absolutely smitten

-your voice, your smile, everything

-he visits the featherington house every day after that night, just to see you

-you talk a couple of time, and once he invites you to play cricket with his brothers

-you have am absolute blast, winning against Colin all the time

-he's usually good at this, but he can't seem to pocus

-except he does focus, just not on the game

-one day you sit together on a bench, watching people pass by

-"I'm returning to my hometown in two days" you suddenly say

-his heart sinks

-"what?"

-"yeah, I don't really see a future here, I thought that I'd find me a...wife, and settle down, but no such luck"

-his mind goes blank, he can't lose you

-he's next day he hurries over to the house, asking for you

-you're in your bedroom reading something when he storms in

-"is everything well Colin?"

-"don't go, stay here"

-"I told you, there's no reas-"

-"stay for me" he tells you before he overthinks it too much

-you're surprised, not because you didn't feel something going on between you, but because he actually said it, you thought it would never happen

-you're kinda relieved Colin presented a reason for you to stay, with him

#male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony bridgerton x male reader #Benedict bridgerton x reader #Benedict bridgerton x male reader #colin bridgerton x reader #Colin bridgerton x male reader #bridgerton x male reader

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vixstarria · 7 months

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Another gift

This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going.

If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more!

P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2.

Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion.

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav

Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit

Approximately 2,000 words.

Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.

“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached.

Brooding. Definitely brooding.

“Looking for something.”

“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?”

“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack”

Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.

Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.

He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”

“I haven’t thought about it... Really?”

“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.”

“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.”

“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry.

You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.

“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?”

“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?”

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?”

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.”

“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night”

“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.”

You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.

“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.”

“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?”

“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.”

“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.

“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly.

“...No, I don’t” he said absently.

“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.

“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.”

You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued.

“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered.

“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back.

“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.

You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.

“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.”

“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection.

“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.

“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away.

“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.”

The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.

“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past.

“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.

Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders.

“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion.

“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!”

“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes.

“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”

He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.

“No.”

“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.

“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.”

“If this involves setting me on fire again...”

“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.

“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries”

“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze”

Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.

Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.

“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time”

You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both.

“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.

Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence:

“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”

“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale.

“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.”

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic

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alllgator-blood · 8 days

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I have ten billion WIP sketches I need to finish, but for some reason I stayed up from 9 PM to 4 AM conceptualizing, making patterns, sewing, painting and applying makeup on this stupid fucking felt squid......the detailing needs to be cleaned up cause there's only one coat of paint so far, but he's pretty much done

my neighbors probably think I'm insane because I was running around the yard clenching this toy kallamar in a death grip and flying him around like an airplane/putting him in the barbecue/poking him with a stick. I want to tie him to a string and recreate the opening of napoleon dynamite >:) ALSO I MADE HIM SMOKE OUT OF A STUPID CRYSTAL PIPE BUT PLEASE DON'T ACTUALLY USE THOSE, THEY ARE SUPER TOXIC LMAO MINE IS FOR DECORATION

I don't have any process pics because I had tunnel vision autism style and forgot the rest of the universe existed while I was working on him. BUT if you're curious I'll ramble below the cut

Okay I am not a seamstress by any means. I've sewn my entire life but very, very infrequently. I've done plushies, clothes, cosplays, fursuits, accessories, etc. but I only do one like once a year, so while I planned to make all 5 bishops, I'm not really sure I'll get them all done. The material cost was like 20 bucks tops so I'm not too upset if I don't finish them. I AT LEAST WANT TO GET SHAMURA OR HEKET DONE.

here is the concept sketch ft. heket's toes and shamura's fingers. I decided to do his pre-schism version so I could fit him with jewelry! I did him first because like I said I sew infrequently and don't know wtf I'm doing, everyone else seemed a lot more complicated.

So I basically just traced this drawing on a printer paper-sized canvas in SAI, and guesstimated how everything would look in a 3D space. His head is four pieces, one triangle identical to the one in the picture, two wide triangles that are sewn together in the back, and a circle for his chin. You can't really see it in any of the pics but he's literally like a black cylindrical stick with little tentacles sewn on where his mantle connects to his cloak. The leg tentacles are one piece of felt that look like tassels, where they're connected by a rectangle but branch off into individual pieces. He can't stand up very well, so his cape keeps him up (that's gonna be an issue for every other bishop too except heket cause she's gonna be ROUND). Mostly everything like the crown, cloak, head, etc. are cones so I just had to make a lot of wide triangles.

For the details, I just used acrylic paint that was watered down so he's not especially crunchy, and for the blush tone I used a makeup palette my mom bought me 10 years ago in hopes I'd get in touch with my "feminine side", but I grew up into a nonbinary butch lesbian so OOPS. Kallamar looks better with makeup than me anyway. I'm kinda sad I couldn't get his freckles as lopsided as I draw them but it probably looks better in plush form to have them even anyway....

I could just post the pattern so I don't have to explain this but 1. I am mentally ill about the thought of my kallamar being in someone else's house and 2. the original pattern had to be tweaked while I was working on him so the final pattern straight up doesn't exist, I winged it the whole time

OH and the jewelry is just scrap pieces I had laying around, I might repaint it all to be gold instead of silver + bronze. I used 20g aluminum wire for his armlet thing, jumper rings for his earrings + ring (+ a diamond dot from my mom's kits for the gem) and chain for the bracelet. I made him an amulet as well but it felt like overkill so I took it off. I'm probably gonna make him a plague doctor mask and medicine bag sometime because I think about nurse kallamar more than I probably should :') I've already sewn one as a prop for a toy raven before so it shouldn't be too hard

#cult of the lamb #cotl #kallamar #plushie #felt craft #does this count as a plush or is it like a doll idfk #I just make shit because I feel like it not cause I can categorize it in any way #drug cw #ONLY CAUSE OF THE REAL PIPE #THERE IS NO ACTUAL DRUG USE HAPPENING

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