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idkwhatever580 · 21 days

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Her pt. 2

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Prompt: after y/n gets rescued what is in store in the next chapter of her life with Natasha?

Warnings: cursing

Pronouns: she/her

A/N: I’m super excited about this one. Make sure you read chapter one first so you have some insight on how nat and y/n met!!! I hope y’all like it :)))

Here’s part one :))) I’m working on a master list I swear -> https://www.tumblr.com/idkwhatever580/749750524015984640/her-pt-1

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Y/n’s pov

I cannot believe it’s been a whole year since I met Natasha.

She and the avengers immediately took me in and I found myself going over to the compound much more than I expected.

I still have my house in Long Island. But I never stay there really anymore. Ever since Natasha and I started dating I haven’t spent too much time there.

It only took three months for me to virtually move in with her. Although I do wish she’d come with me sometimes.

But I don’t really worry about that since one of the floors in the tower is my new soup kitchen. It’s open twenty four hours a day and there are at least 2-6 people working there at all times.

As promised Tony Stark and SHEILD helped me get my business up and running.

I make homes for the homeless. Sometimes they are bigger more communal homes and sometimes they are tiny one or two person homes.

My first two homes are side by side. They were for gran and pops. They were always my biggest supporters and still are.

My program has changed so many lives. There are so many people out there who just need a little bit of love.

Sometimes the homeless people will use the homes as a forever home but most often they get jobs. Become more financially stable and independent and then they will move out. It’s really great. Because I see so many people I’ve helped become something. Someone.

There are so many who have told me they thought they would never amount to anything. And a few of them have become very successful even as far as becoming a CEO.

I am incredibly proud of my work.

And honestly it’s so exciting to see what changes I can make every single day.

For example. Today is the release date of my nationwide program.

All over the country a program is being launched where homeless people can find shelter, rehabilitation centers, and other necessities for free so they can have a second chance at life. I am doing some interviews today.

Unfortunately Natasha isn’t here. She has a mission. I’m a little sad that she won’t be with me tonight as the program launches but the show must go on.

I check my watch and see it is time to leave for the opening ceremony and I go downstairs to find Happy.

I smile and say

“What’s up Happy! Are you ready?”

He smiles sadly and says

“Yes I am ready. But I must inform you that I am only your chauffeur tonight. Unfortunately I cannot be your plus one.”

I frown when he says this because he was supposed to fill in for Natasha and now I have nobody.

“Oh. Well. That’s okay!”

I smile and cover up my disappointment. He drives me to the red carpet and helps me out. I kiss his cheek accidentally leaving a lipstick stain and I say

“Thank you. Have a good night Happy.”

He usually goes home and I have a different driver drive me home.

I walk to the red carpet by myself and put on my best smile. I make it about halfway through the carpet and an arm snakes around me and this mystery person says

“Am I late?”

“Oh!”

I jump and put my hand to my chest and I look at my beautiful girlfriend with a huge smile on my face and I say

“Jesus! You scared me!”

My brain doesn’t even register that she’s back since I’m in the zone and then I do a double take and say

“Wait! What!?”

She giggles when I realize and I slap her chest and say

“I thought you were at a mission?!”

She chuckles and says.

“I got off early enough to make it. That’s why Happy isn’t here with you. I tried my best. But I couldn’t get the best suit”

She looks down at her suit and I look her up and down and say

“You look amazing baby. Perfect right here with me.”

I smile and give her a kiss. We always wear matching lipstick colors so that we can kiss and not get it messed up.

Then I put my hand on her chest and we keep taking pictures.

The rest of the night goes smoothly and I give a speech. I talk to a few people who have helped my journey and then we head home.

I get changed and wait in bed for Natasha. She takes a while so I complain

“Nattyyy”

She comes out of the bathroom and smiles and says

“Yes baby?”

I hold my arms out for her and pout

“I missed you”

She gets into bed with me and says

“I missed you too.”

Once we’re comfy she looks me in the eyes and says

“Goodnight my love. You have done such amazing things for so many people and I am so lucky to be yours.”

I smile and say

“I love you baby. Goodnight”

We kiss and drift off into a nice comfortable sleep.

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A/N: guys this is so bad. It feels rushed and blah. Idk how I feel about it. I became so unmotivated and just wanted to move on to the next thing but I didn’t want to just leave it. 😭🔫

#avengers #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader

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flowery-mess · 2 months

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Swan Lake

Noah x ballerina reader

I will never forget the way I was feeling at that stage in front of all those people. My parents and siblings in first row, watching me with eyes full of tears and pride. I got the lead role in Swan Lake at the age of 16 which was seen as big accomplishment in ballet world. In that moment I felt happy, proud of myself and stronger than ever. But that didn’t last long.

Just a seconds after the big red curtain was closed and me and other dancers went in the direction of our changing room, I heard my name being called. Screamed, actually.

I turned around to see our trainer speed walking to me. I quickly went over the whole play in my head. What did I do wrong? I couldn’t think of anything, I felt good. She found million reasons to tell me I was a bad choice for playing the lead role, that I’m too fat and I won’t play on the next date.

That was it. That night I told my parents I’m done with ballet and I’m quitting immediately. My mother was ballet dancer too, we talked a lot about how hard it was for me lately, so she agreed with my decision and went to talk to my trainer. I packed my things and never saw that woman again. That felt like a big rock fell off my shoulders. That was 10 years ago.

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asked, his hand gently placed on my thigh as we were driving to my family home for Saturday lunch with my family.

“It’s 10 years anniversary of me ending my ballet career. I was thinking about it a lot recently.”

“Thinking about as?” he waited for my response as he didn’t really understand how I feel about it.

“As I miss it, I guess. I was thinking about talking with my mom about it today. Also I looked up some ballet classes in our area. But I don’t know, it was just a silly idea.” I shrugged it off.

I never really talked with Noah about my ballet career. I told him I did ballet for 14 years and quit for mental health issues. I mean, it’s very much known how the ballet industry works, so he understood. I have very mixed feelings about getting back into it at my age, so I haven’t told anyone yet.

I tried to stay healthy and fit, I sometimes go to open dance classes and sometimes I try some ballet steps. I still got it. I am a lucky one, I still have good stretches and I learn steps quickly. I just got bored of doing it only in our living room.

“Really? That’s not a silly idea, it’s actually a really cool idea. Did you find any good places?” I was surprised with Noah’s excitement. He is very supportive of everything I do, but I guess I expected different reaction.

“I like two ballet studios. They have some good teachers and also open classes, just for hobby attendance. One is on Mondays and the other one is on Thursdays, so I can try both and then see which one I like more.”

“Are you signed up already?”

“No, I am not sure Noah. It brings up lot of bad memories, 10 years ago it got me into a really bad place and I’m scared it’s going to be the same this time.” I felt tears coming as I thought of little 13 years old me crying through the whole night, because I was told I’m fat for ballet. That I’m not good enough. That I’m too tall to be a ballerina. That my skin is too pale. That I got in just because of my mother. That I’m never going to make it.

Those memories make me feel little and so vulnerable.

“I’m sure it will be great honey. If you miss it, then you should try it. But it’s your decision, okay? I don’t want to push you into anything. Take your time to think about it, talk with your mom and you will see what’s her opinion on this, right?” he brought his hand that was holding mine in it to his lips and placed small kisses against my palm.

“Thank you.” I shot him a smile which he gladly returned.

I loved days like today, spending time with my family. All of them love Noah, so after we have lunch, we are usually both separated and have conversation with someone else. Firstly, I talked to my siblings about college and their new internships, while Noah talked with my dad about new music and their upcoming Europe tour. My dad absolutely loves Bad omens and I am sure he is their biggest fan. When my family visits for shows, he never wants to be in the backstage, watching the show from safe space. He always goes in the crowd, which makes my mum crazy scared every single time.

I used this as a chance to talk to mom about the ballet thing that was going around in my head.

“Mom do you mind coming with me outside for a minute?”

“Of course darling.”

We took our coffees with us as we made our way to the garden and sit on the big couch that my parents had there for my whole life. That thing is going to outlive all of us.

“What is it darling?”

“What do you mean?” I tried to hide my worries, but my mom knows me too well.

“I know when my baby is worried about something. What is it? Is it Noah? Are you sad he’s going to leave for tour soon?”

“Oh no, well, yes that too, but it’s not the first time, that will be okay. It’s something I wanted to talk about especially with you.” I played with the cup in my hands and avoided the topic as long as I could.

“Come on hon, spit it out.”

“I was thinking about getting back into ballet.” I said and kept my eyes low, focused on the green grass. I looked up just because my mom wasn’t saying anything. “What? Are you going to say something? I don’t know what this face means.” I was honestly so confused with the way her face was looking at me. Was she happy about? Sad? I couldn’t tell.

“Well, I was expecting this much sooner than now.”

“What?”

“I always thought you will want to get back to it at some point in your life hon. You loved it. Aside from those ugly things, you loved ballet. I was so angry at that woman who ruined for you.”

“Why did you never say anything?” I was so confused. She was waiting for this for years and never talked about it with me?

“Because it’s your decision, not mine. I didn’t want you to think I was disappointed with you or pushing you back into it. Did you think of where would you start with classes? And would you want to take part in plays again?” She was right. It is just mine decision and with everything she saw me go through I understand she was worried.

“I found two studios near our home that look good. They have weekly open classes that I was thinking about. But I wanted to talk with you first about it.”

Then we fell into long dialogue about everything connected with be going back into ballet. My mom gave me a courage to at least try it. She said my eyes lit up when I talked about the good memories I had from my child age. She also told me that I am more mature than I was back then and even if I don’t think I can handle it, I can. And she was right.

I’m a grown woman now, I can handle myself and protect myself. It’s also just open class for everyone who wants to try ballet, there will be no judgement.

“I’m going to try it.” We left my parents house later than expected, so it was dark outside when we were driving back.

“The open classes? Did you talk with your mom about it?”

“Yes and she said I should give it a chance. So I guess I won’t be home on Monday evening.”

“Can I go watch you?” Noah asked.

“What?” I returned him a question, not knowing what he meant.

“I mean I never saw you do your ballet thing and you will be wearing those ballet outfits and I’m sure that will be hot.” He said as if it was obvious fact that I should’ve known.

“You’re not being serious right now, are you?” I tried to hold my laugh in at his innocent clueless face.

“Well I’m not, but I would really like to see your little ballet outfit for sure.” He turned his face to you so you could see his smirk.

“Sure, watch the road you perv.”

It had already been a month since I started going to open classes in the studio I chose after the first week. I chose the one closer to our home, their dance rooms were bigger and more modern and our teacher was a lovely girl, possibly my age.

And it felt amazing. It felt like I was alive again. Don’t get me wrong I loved my life with Noah, my work and everything, but this felt like the missing piece.

While I was changing into my clothes after today’s class, our teacher Molly came to talk to me.

“Listen Y/N, I know you said you have bad experience and memories with professional ballet, but we have few spots open in our semi professional group and I thought you’d be great candidate. I see you’re learning faster than anyone in your class and I’m scared you would get bored after a while. There will be auditions, but I can get a word in for you and see if you could skip them. Just think about it and let me know as soon as you decide please.”

That night I came running home to share that news with Noah.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed just seconds after I opened the door.

“Studio.”

When I opened the door Noah turned in his chair to face me.

“Did I do something?” he looked scared.

“What?”

“Why are you screaming and running, I’m scared I did something.” You let out a chuckle at his words.

“No, but I got news. Great news.”

“Let me hear them.” I walked over to him and sat in his lap.

“I just got offered a place in semi professional group at the studio. Without auditions, Molly wants me there.”

“Honey that’s great news! That’s amazing news!” he stood up with me in his arms and spined us around.

“So you think I should accept that offer?”

“You haven’t already?”

“No, I wanted to think about it.”

“Judging by your reaction, there’s nothing to think about.” He smiled into our kiss.

“I guess I’m back on track then.” I kissed him back.

Long story short, I accepted Molly’s offer and started with my new group. I had classes 4 times a week, which was bit hard to get used to, but after while it was okay.

Noah left for tour, so at least I got something to do with my free time.

Noah leaving was also good for another reason. There is time difference between us, so we usually text each other or have short calls, so my worries are easy to hide.

Last week Molly told us that our group will be playing Swan Lake few months from now on, which brought back some memories. Semi professional groups still play in midsized theatre, I joined them when there wasn’t any, so I expected some play to come soon, but not this one.

I had mixed feelings about it, thinking if I want to play or if I just pass this one. Applications are closing in three days and I still haven’t applied for any role, which was weird for Molly.

She asked me about it after last class, so I told her about my ballet history, how Swan Lake basically ruined it for me. Molly is very positive person, so she told me something that got stuck in my head. She said I could take it as an opportunity and change Swan Lake from something bad to something really good in my life.

Truth is, I am thinking about applying for Odette/Odile, but I haven’t told anyone yet.

“Okay that’s enough love, what is going on?” Noah asked through the phone and I saw his forehead wrinkles were making his worried face. It’s scary how well he knows me, but with tomorrow being the last day for applications I needed to tell him.

“Our group is going to play Swan Lake in a few months and I don’t know if I should apply or not. It’s the play that made me quit.”

“Looks like it’s your second chance to make the best out of it. Listen, you were worried about even getting into ballet again and look at you now! I know you’re worried now, but wouldn’t you regret not even trying it?” I felt like I was on the phone with Molly right now.

“I know, I was thinking about applying for the lead role, I did it back then too. But maybe I should do other role?”

“Oh no love, if anyone is supposed to be the lead role in this play, it’s you.”

“You have to say this, you’re my boyfriend Noah.”

“Well wouldn’t you be the same if I was in your position? That’s what you do for your partner. You know how many songs would be forgotten and never released if you didn’t support me? There is lot of them I thought weren’t good enough, but you made me finish them. I may don’t understand ballet, but I understand you and I know you would regret not applying. So you get your ass up right now and fill what ever you need to fill and send it to Molly or I’m going to do it.”

And he was right, I would regret it. But I still couldn’t believe myself when I saw ‘send’ on my screen after I applied for Odette/Odile.

Molly informed me that me and 5 other girls applied for the same role, so there will be two rounds of auditions, first one starting on Monday, which gives me 6 days to prepare for it. Noah is also coming back home on Monday, so I’m happy I will share the outcome with him. Either we will celebrate or he will make me his comfort food and I’m happy with both options.

I spend the last 6 days going over the choreography for the first round of auditions. Everyday after work I went straight home and practiced. Last night I didn’t get a chance to talk with Noah, because he was already on his way back to the states. I at least talked to my mom this morning.

“Y/N you’re next.” I heard Molly from the ballet room.

“I’m homeee.” I heard Noahs voice that I missed so much. I left the pans on low heat and left kitchen to meet Noah in the living room.

I didn’t waste any time and went straight in for a kiss.

“Missed me much?” he managed to say between our kisses.

“Very much.” I looked at his face, tired face, and held it in my hands “Hi love.”

“Hi.” He leaned his forehead against mine as we enjoyed bit of silence and each other’s presence after month and two weeks apart.

“How was the flight?” I broke the silence, took his hand and led him into our kitchen to finish dinner.

“It was okay. I slept most of the time, but I’m still very tired. And I need a shower.”

“You can go take a shower now, it will take few more minutes until it’s done.” I pointed to the food.

“Okay.” Noah got up, left kiss on my nose and went to get shower. That’s what I thought at least. On his way to our bathroom, he realized I didn’t tell him about the audition.

“Y/N? Wasn’t the audition today?” it was, but I wanted to tell him about the result over dinner.

“It was, but I wanted to tell you later.” I tried to hide the smile on my face.

“You got through to the second audition, didn’t you?” he caught your smile and immediately knew the answer. “I guess we can celebrate right now in the shower huh? Are you going to join me?”

“So girls, I want to thank you for participating in this audition. It was hard to decide, but in the end, we agreed on one name. And it’s you, Y/N. We were amazed by your performance and we feel like your experience with this play could help us to make the best of it. Congratulations!” Molly gave me a hug and whispered in my ear that she knew it was going to be me from the beginning.

Noah and my mom said the same. My mom made sure she put date of the premiere in hers and dad’s calendar so they wouldn’t miss it. Noah also made sure to clear that day months in advance and welcomed me home with a flower and dinner as a celebration.

Breathe in, breathe out. And repeat. I stood in backstage already in my costume. I saw Noah and my parents in the first row as the rest of the room filled with strangers. Strangers that are going to be watching me in a few minutes.

“Are you ready Y/N? How are you feeling?” I felt Molly’s hand on my shoulder.

“I’m nervous, but also excited. I haven’t preformed for over decade, so I hope I don’t panic.”

“You’ll be great. We did lot of work, all of you will do great tonight.”

She then went to talk to other girls and I felt my phone buzz in my hand. It was Noah.

“Don’t be nervous, we’re very excited to see you shine tonight. You’ll kill it babe, I love you.” Oh my sweet Noah. Supportive as always.

I stood still in my pose as the curtain was closing. I let out a big breath I didn’t even realised I was holding in when the curtain was fully closed. I turned around to see my friends and in that moment we realized we just finished our premiere of the Swan Lake. And it was perfect. We did group hug, with Molly joining us. It was completely different than 10 years ago. This night was full of support and love.

I went to change into my normal clothes and then to meet Noah and my parents.

My dad and Noah both had bouquets in their hands and my mom had tears in her eyes. She was also the first one to pull me into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you Y/N, you can’t even imagine. You grew up into a beautiful woman and you just showed me how strong you are.”

“Thank you, mom, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Then it was my dad who pulled me into strong hug. My dad didn’t show emotions a lot, so I appreciated him coming tonight.

I really wanted to literally jump into Noah’s arms, but I kept calm in front of my parents. They said their goodbyes and left, because they have long road ahead of them.

As soon as they left the parking lot I turned to Noah and attacked him with hugs and kisses.

“Slow down baby, let me congratulate you and give you this beautiful flower.” It really was beautiful bouquet. Noah always got me beautiful flowers.

“How was it? Did you like it?” I was interested in Noah’s opinion, because it was his first ballet play he saw.

“It was beautiful! You were amazing! I know you can stretch your legs right, but I didn’t know you can stretch them like this.” I didn’t know if I should slap his arm for his stupid comment or laugh at him as he was trying to show me what he meant and trying to do the pose he was referring to.

“Okay ballerina I get it!” I laugh and stopped him from what he was doing before he got himself injured.

“Do you want to go out for dinner and drinks? Or go home and order something? You must be hungry.” We intertwined our hands and Noah led me to his car. He was right, I didn’t eat much today, because of the nerves.

“I think I want to go home, order something to eat, have a glass of wine, have hot bubble bath and then my back could use a massage…”

“I will give you massage only if you let me join you in the bath.” Of course he wouldn’t miss that chance.

“Deal. Let’s get home.” Noah started his car and took my hand in his.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you. I’m getting tickets to every show and I’m making the guys come with me.”

“Okay.” I laughed, but I knew he was serious. I’m sure that at the next show I’m going to see the core of BO crew in the front row.

“But I’m serious, I love you.”

“I love you too Noah, thank you for being by my side for all of this.”

“Always.”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian band #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian imagine #noahsebastian #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens imagine

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writerscafehub · 6 months

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𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚈: @the-iceni-bitch

ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ . 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄:

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Oh god, a 3.5? I will admit that it’s very hard for me not to downplay myself, it’s what I’m best at. I will say that I have gotten much better as a writer since I took it back up.

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I think probably my dialogue. I find myself able to sink into relationship dynamics quite easily and am able to show a character’s personality through their conversation with other characters rather than just describing it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Well, I have to give credit where credit is due as @stargazingfangirl18 is the whole reason I started writing fanfic. Other fanfic authors I find myself drawing inspired from would be @angrythingstarlight, @boxofbonesfic, @slothspaghettiwrites, @onsunnyside, and @howdoyousleep3. For my non-fanfic writing I draw a lot of inspiration for Ursula LeGuin, George R.R. Martin, Robert Jordan, and Tolkien of course.

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

Definitely In the Pines. It’s so different from anything else I’ve ever written and I honestly love it. It’s so haunting and I’m very proud of the prose.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

Easiest is absolutely the quadrouple - my Ransom/reader/Ari/Jake kinda polycule that’s part of my No Love Like Your Love AU. I also find it really easy to write for Natasha and her peach from that same AU. Most difficult? Oof, off the top of my head Mike Weiss, he’s just kinda depressing.

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

Again, the quadrouple. They’re my comfort characters for a reason. I also just love writing about people in relationships, about them being in love and working through tough times but coming out better for it. I love when two (or more) people are just completely open and honest with each other and do their best to make each other better.

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

Fic wise all the upcoming stuff for the NLLYL verse, and there’s a lot. But I am most excited about my novel! It has so many characters that I love so much. It delves into stuff I’ve never written before but that I found surprisingly intriguing. And of course, there’s a ton of bangable characters. Blorbos for everyone.

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

The Chris Evans fandom. I can’t help it, I want to fuck so many of that man’s characters.

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

Omegaverse for sure. Specifically knotting and scent. I just want a giant, masculine smelling animal of a man to fuck me and then have his cock locked inside me for an hour. And the snuggly vibes of nesting and just having a bunch of soft and comforting things around you that smell like someone you love feeds the marshmallow romantic inside me.

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

Look, every time I say I’m never going to write for something I end up writing it. But I can hopefully say that scat will never happen.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Probably the one where Deadpool is stuck in a self-insert fanfic. It breaks the fourth wall and it’s short but it’s weird as fuck.

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

Ari and Jake. They’re so soft and sweet and perfect and I am never going to let anything bad happen to them ever.

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

With my ADHD I have to. It’s usually just the tv though. I’ll put some sitcom I’ve watched a million times on in the background.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

This is kinda tough! I love creating AUs but I feel like those are more a bunch of one shots that just happen to be for the same couples in the same setting. But I also really love the actual series I’ve done. So I’m going to say multi-chapter.

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

Constantly! I mean, if I daydream about it I typically add it to my WIPs which is why I have so many. It’s usually just about my characters being happy and living their best lives in some way.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Not yet! I will say I’m a little bit intimidated still about writing for a male reader but after my first foray into it I feel much more comfortable.

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I can’t think of a specific one but I’ve gotten a few from people who have told me my fics provide a little bright spot for them and I always enjoy hearing that! There was also an ask I got where someone told me they recommend and discuss my writing more than they do real authors and that felt pretty good.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

This goes back to what I mentioned before but definitely writing for a male reader. The reason I wanted to do it was part curiosity to see if I could do it and part desire to write for an audience I hadn’t had a chance to connect with. It turned out really well and aside from some cliche accusations of fetishization I had a lot of positive engagement.

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Fluff, always fluff. If I do the angst I end up living in it for days and I hate it. (I say this while hosting a giant angst ask a thon on my blog)

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

For my fics, aside from my reader characters who in spite of being inserts are basically OCs, there’s the second generation of my NLLYL core group. All the kids are so cute and when they grow up there’s a lot of fun to be had, new romances and I could just go on and on about them. For my novel, oh my god you guys. There’s the Viking pirate sealord, the feminist icon, the super hot himbo best friend, the tiny and fiery lady of the lakes, the sexy villain, the spoiled but handsome prince. And that’s not even all of them.

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Would it surprise anyone if I said the NLLYL verse? Because that’s the one. It’s like my security blanket.

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

Just that I have zero control over where my muse goes. If you’re craving the next installment in a series or an AU I am also craving it, but I’m also not going to force my muse to go somewhere and put something out that isn’t up to my standards.

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

“The cold wind whipped through your nightgown and tangled it around your limbs as you stared at the sky in rapture, bathed in the silvery light of the moon like some kind of goddess.” - In The Pines

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I just love the community I’ve been able to cultivate in the fic writing community. Not just the members of this server but so many readers who leave thoughtful and sweet comments that always make my day.

#barista of the month #𖠰nat𖠰 #writer’s cafe ♡☕︎

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midnighttrain-project · 9 months

Text

Hello everyone! It’s time for another development blog!

Thank you very much for the support I received in the previous post! This time, the focus will be pixel art! In particular, we will talk about the creative process behind the new sprites of the remake.

As some of you may already know, MerúM is the artist in charge of the pixel art in Midnight Train. Let’s ask him some questions about it!

🌙🚂 Interview with MerúM 🚂🌙

Lydia: First of all, could you introduce yourself?

MerúM: I call myself MerúM. I am the pixel artist of Midnight Train: New Moon, and I am in charge of the sprites and animations of the characters. I also worked on Aria's Story and the previous version of Midnight Train doing the same job.

Lydia: The character sprites in Midnight Train: New Moon look quite different from the original version. Is there any reason for this change?

MerúM: Well, before the switch to RPG Maker MV, I was already working on the new sprites and animations for the Midnight Train remake. However, once we changed programs, I noticed that the character sprites were very small compared to the current screen dimensions. I decided that this was a perfect opportunity to redo the sprites from scratch as well, increasing their dimensions and detailing them more than the previous version allowed me, without wanting to move them too far away from the previous chibi style.

Lydia: Right now, you already completed all the characters sprites for chapter 1. Was there any challenge or something you’re really proud about?

MerúM: After changing the sprites, the expressiveness of the characters has improved a lot. Characters now have many more unique animations and expressions, solidifying their personalities. I think this new style works very well with the aesthetic of Midnight Train’s world and makes them look quite unique from character to character.

Lydia: Could you describe your workflow and what programs you use to create your work?

MerúM: For my sprites, I use Aseprite. Before starting with a specific character, I tend to draw their base sprites and their walking animations. After this, I receive a list of events that will occur in the game related to those characters, and then I create the sprites and animations that fit into said scenes using the base sprites as a reference. Usually, I am in charge of designing how these scenes will look in pixel art, but with some more specific or complicated scenes I have received a quick sketch of how the sprite/animation should look like as a visual aid, and thus arrive at the version that best suits the scene.

Lydia: I’m just curious about something… Who is your favorite character from Midnight Train?

MerúM: I think all the characters are fantastic, maybe I could consider Neil Lawton my favorite. I think, in the end, we should all be a little like Neil. Even if you are afraid at first to move forward, just do it. This is what Neil does, he may be afraid, but he faces this fear to survive.

Lydia: Is there anything else you would like to tell us?

MerúM: What else could I say? I think Midnight Train: New Moon brings a story that will appeal to anyone who is passionate about mystery stories. By the way, it's fun to mention that in addition to Justice, Purity and some secondary characters, I have been the main designer of Larissa, one of the new characters in this remake. I hope you play Midnight Train: New Moon and get to know her!

🌙🚂 Progress 🚂🌙

I hope you liked the interview with MerúM! I wouldn't have been able to create my games without his help, as I'm pretty bad at pixel art. I'm excited to see all the sprites he will create for chapter 2! I personally can't wait to see Apollo's animations. Now, I want to report about the development of the game. I’m almost finished with the maps of chapter 2, so I expect to start programming this chapter very soon! Literally, there is only one map left…! I wanted to add a new puzzle to this map, so I’ve been stuck brainstorming ideas… Ahh, it feels like facing a final boss before proceeding to the next step.

Thank you a lot for your support and patience! See you next time~

#midnight train (game)#midnight train new moon #midnight train game

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whatsnewalycat · 2 years

Text

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 26: This Must be the Place

Word Count: 4.5k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, pregnancy, fluff fluff fluff, love notes, smut, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, unprotected PIV sex, gave javi some gray sweatpants bc he deserves it and so do we

Chapter Summary: Our heroes spend the morning together.

Notes: Chapter title from "This Must be the Place" by Talking Heads. This is the last chapter!! Holy shit! I'm putting this out earlier than anticipated because I'm getting antsy about it and I really like it as is. Seriously I'm going to go cry now, because I'm feeling sad and proud and excited all at once. I'll *probably* write more with these two in the future, though. That sounds fun. If you liked it let me know, pleaaaase, I'm a whiney baby that loves reassurance!! OK THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

Peña Ranch, Laredo, TX November 29, 1998

Your eyes blink open to late morning light pouring onto the bed. As they attempt to adjust from the darkness of sleep, you clamp them shut, rolling over to throw your arm across Javier.

Except, he’s not there. Your arm flops onto something crinkly instead. One eye cracks open and finds a pile of papers folded in half where your boyfriend usually is. Their ragged edges are intact, proof that they were yanked out from the spine of a spiral notebook.

You pick up the bundle and blink both eyes open.

“READ ME” is scrawled on the top fold in Javi’s messy script. You take a deep morning yawn and wriggle upright, propping yourself up on a stack of pillows. The comforting scent of brewing coffee wafts into the bedroom. Javi is humming along to the radio in the kitchen. Pans clatter and cupboards slam by his hand as you unfold the stack of papers and start reading.

—

December 5, 1993

I can’t stop thinking about you. How are you even doing this to me?

Yesterday I went to your apartment building. Your bedroom lights were on and the blinds were closed. I sat outside for an hour, knowing you were there, unable to bring myself to do anything about it.

Even if I could have gathered the courage to knock on the door, what would I have said to you?

I like the feel of your hand in mine. I like your laugh. You’re beautiful. Do you want to go on a date with me?

Those words shouldn’t make a man like me nervous, but they do. So nervous that I left San Antonio without letting them leave my mouth.

—

December 1, 1994

It’s been a year since I kissed you.

I had to leave. I’m sorry. Duty calls.

Maybe we’ll meet again. Sometimes I hope we don’t. It’s for the best. You’ll find someone better.

—

June 4, 1998

I can’t tell you this. So I’m writing to you. I know you’re engaged, and you’re happy with Dan fucking Baker. Even though it makes no sense to me.

But I’ll be damned. Every time I look at you I remember exactly what you felt like. What you taste like. I crave your lips on mine again.

—

June 13, 1998

When I’m with you, we’re opposite poles in magnets resisting the inevitable. The pull is so strong, I ache. You feel it, too. I can tell.

Your lips, your touch, the perfect way I fit inside you. I can never unlearn these things. I’ve tried. They’re etched in my bones. It’s fundamental, as central to my being as breathing.

I long for you, love. It’s torture.

—

June 25, 1998

I am in love with you.

So, here I am, writing to you, imagining I had the guts to say it.

This is absolute fucking madness, cariño. But I woke up next to you and saw you there and I knew.

—

July 30, 1998

I don’t know where you are, but I saw you. I can feel you. I don’t know how I know, but I know. You’re scared. I’m scared, too. I’ve never been so terrified to lose someone.

When I lost my mom, I didn’t get to be scared. One moment she was on her way back from the grocery store, and the next she was gone. In an instant, the sun in our lives burnt out.

You would have loved her. Everyone did, she was just that kind of person. She had a wit about her. Lit up any room she walked into, but nobody fucked with her.

She loved deer because of their polarity and intuition. They’re gentle, fierce, cautious, adventurous. They shed and regrow their antlers. She said they’re symbolic of duality, listening to your gut feelings, renewal and growth. She would have loved you, too.

There are so many things I want to tell you. I should have listened to you. I didn’t let you come with me. You trusted me to protect you, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry.

I promise I will find you. I love you and miss you so much, cariño. Please hold on a little bit longer.

Tell baby Peña I say hello and that I love them, too.

—

August 1, 1998

I’m watching you as you sleep in our bed. You’re battered, bruised, stitched together… but you and the baby are ok. It’s a fucking miracle, cariño, I swear.

I introduced myself to your parents in the hospital waiting room last night. Your dad looked at my extended hand like there was shit smeared on it. They’re right to not want anything to do with me right now.

It’s a good thing their approval means approximately jack shit to you. Because I am never letting you go.

—

November 29, 1998

Today’s the day I give you the letters I never thought I would, so I can show you how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.

Come out to the kitchen, baby.

—

You sniffle and rub the tears out of your eyes and set the unfolded stack of love letters down on the black duvet, then scoot to the edge of the bed. The floor is cool on the soles of your feet, one then the other. Javi starts singing “I Just Want to Dance With You” by George Strait. Your heart swells with love. You grab your fuchsia robe from the back of the desk chair and tie it around your body as you emerge from the bedroom and follow his voice.

He’s leaning on the kitchen island over a newspaper crossword puzzle, one hand holding a pen as the other slides his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, singing, “I caught you lookin' at me when I looked at you; Yes, I did, ain't that true? You won't get embarrassed by the things I do; I just wanna dance with you…”

You greet him with a giddy smile, padding across the floor towards him, “Good morning.”

A smile stretches across his handsome face when he peers up at you from the newspaper, “Good morning, beautiful.”

He sets the pen down and pushes off of the counter, meeting you with an outstretched hand. You take it, and he pulls you close, placing one hand on your waist. He guides you in a clumsy waltz to the tempo of the music.

You giggle at him as he presses his forehead to yours. The lyrics of the upbeat ballad drift from his mouth, hot on your cheek. When the song ends, he keeps his fingers interlaced with yours and leads you to the kitchen island, where you take a seat on a stool across from him.

He goes to the coffee pot and pours you a cup, then sets it down in front of you. Steam curls out of the white ceramic mug that reads CAVE WITHOUT A NAME. You wrap a hand around it, humming with glee, “Thank you, baby.”

“Did you sleep good?” he asks, a grin spread across his face as he leans his elbows onto the newspaper.

He is up to something.

“I did,” your face flushes as your fingertip runs along the circumference of the steaming mug, collecting condensation, “I, um- I read your notes.”

He brings his coffee mug to his lips and takes a sip, then sets it down and asks, “Did you like them?”

You nod and your mouth gapes open as you try in vain to formulate words that could possibly explain the love and devotion bubbling inside you. Every moment you spend with him makes you love him even more. A feat you didn’t even think was possible. Yet, here you are. He wakes you up with love notes, dances with you in the kitchen, smiles at you with those fucking dimples, and you’re falling in love all over again.

The euphoria that cycles through your veins when he’s touching you. The dread that clutches your heart when you imagine existing without his presence. The deep ache of adoration in your chest when you stare at him long enough to feel sentimental about it. All the ways he occupies your body and soul. Every ounce of you knows that this is it .

Everything you can think of falls flat. Your face feels hot and your heart flutters. Happy tears prick in your eyes as they meet his and your eyebrows draw together, “You really wrote all of those?”

He reaches across the countertop and closes your hand in his, nodding, “I did.”

“Oh, Javi-“ the lump in your throat chokes you up and you wipe away the tears spilling onto your cheeks, “I’m sorry for crying, I just-“ you sniffle and pout at him, “I love you so much. I don’t even know how to explain.”

“I love you too, cariño,” he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand affectionately. His smile hasn’t faltered, even as he tells you, “I think I’m going to get you to break your record today.”

The record he speaks of is the number of times you’ve cried in a day. For the past week, tears have become a common reaction to overwhelming emotions. The pregnancy hormones are mingling with your recent life changes, on top of your predisposition to being a crybaby already, and have made you a sappy, teary-eyed disaster.

Yesterday, he found you outside watching Pickles wriggle around on his back. Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, face wet from bawling. When he asked what was wrong, your answer was, “Nothing, he’s just so cute I feel like my heart is going to explode.”

Your record is 10 cries in one day. You’ve been awake for about a half an hour and have already cried twice. It’s an impressive start.

You sniffle again and wipe the stagnant tears away, then start laughing because you can’t even continue to take him seriously. He’s just fucking beaming at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” he starts laughing, too, then makes his way around the counter to you.

His rough hands cup your cheeks and you shake your head as you grin up at him, “I just think you’re really great.”

“Yeah?” his smile widens, and you nod in response. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet peck, and you link your arms behind his neck to draw him in again, lingering longer this time. He inhales sharply as your tongue meets his, flipping your stomach upside down. His touch trails back to the hinges of your jaw, and he brushes the sleep-mussed hair from your face as the kiss deepens.

A soft moan rumbles in your throat and you get to your feet, arching your back into him. His hands find your waist and pull you closer, and you can feel his cock hardening against you under the loose constraints of his lazy Sunday morning sweatpants. But he pulls back, speaking to you between needy, wet kisses, “Wait- mmm, gotta- gotta show you something-“

You pout and look up at him as you bring one hand down to his tented pants and rub your thumb in a circle against the tip of his length, “Can it wait?”

He throws his head back as a hiss sucks the air from his lungs, then brings his eyes back to yours and shakes his head, “Can’t wait.”

“Are you sure?” you bat your eyelashes and continue to tease him, feeling a bead of pre-cum wet the fabric between his cock and the pad of your thumb.

A huge smile spreads across his face as he shudders, then pulls you back in for a smoldering kiss. He shakes his head as he gasps against your mouth, “So impatient, cariño.”

“You want me to stop, baby?” you ask innocently, then roll your tongue against his and wrap your hand around his sweatpants-bound cock. He grabs your wrist gently and laces your fingers with his, then brings the back of your hand to his lips, where he plants a kiss.

“What I want-“ he lowers himself onto one knee and pulls a little black velvet box out of his pocket. Every cell in your body comes to a standstill. He releases your hand so he can open it, revealing a gold band with a solitary sparkling white gemstone, “Is for you to marry me.”

A surge of adrenaline floods your bloodstream, making you lightheaded, and you breathe, “Wh- what?”

Your heart pounds impossibly fast in your chest as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes and asks, “Will you marry me?”

Tears brim your eyes for the third time this morning, cheek-burning smile breaking out on your face when you answer him, “Fuck yes I will.”

“Yeah?” he laughs and his smile is all dimples and perfect teeth when he plucks your hand up and slides the ring onto your finger.

You laugh through your crying and nod. He gets to his feet and cups your cheeks again, thumbs wiping the tears away, and he kisses you with heat, guiding you backwards until you butt up against the dining room table.

You cease kissing and throw your head back as laughter bubbles from your throat, “I can’t believe you just let me keep fondling you when you were going to ask that!”

A smile stretches across his face as he chuckles and shrugs, “You’re very persuasive.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh yeah?”

“But I couldn’t wait any longer,” his face softens into a loving gaze and your heart aches as it melts in your chest. He takes your left hand and holds it up so he can look at the ring he just adorned on your finger, and questions, “Do you know what today is?”

Your stomach flips and you nod, “I met you five years ago today.”

“That’s right,” the corners of his mouth upturn and he plants a kiss on your hand, “I fell in love with you five years ago today.”

Your eyes sting as tears flood them again, the deep well of adoration and love you have for this man just too much to bear, and you pout, “This really isn’t fair, you’re trying to make me cry now.”

His eyes fold into crescents as he laughs heartily, then presses his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Javier,” you raise your hands to his face, thumbs scraping against the stubble he hasn’t shaved off yet this morning. He kisses you slowly, a series of lazy, wet lingering pecks.

His hands trail down to your waist, then over and under your ass, palming the cheeks over your thin cotton robe.

His nose nuzzles against yours and he hums in contentment, “Where were we?”

“I think,” you drop your gaze to his tented pants and smirk as you bring your grasp around him, circling the dark gray wet spot with your thumb, “We were going to the bedroom.”

He groans at the touch, then shakes his head as he guides you onto the table and nudges your knees apart, “I want you right here.”

You let out a soft coo when he tugs on the sash of your robe until it’s undone and falls open, exposing your naked body. He cradles your head like it’s made of something delicate and priceless, then drags his tongue across yours, sending molten heat dripping down your spine. His lips press against your jawline and he hesitates.

You whisper, “Kiss my neck.”

“Are you sure?” his eyebrows press together and he pulls back to meet your eyes, searching for reassurance.

Recently, you both learned that touch to your neck is a trigger now. He has been cognizant not to touch you in the area since an incident, in which he innocuously put his hand to your throat during sex, led to your hyperventilating on the bedroom floor.

Throughout your recovery after those two days in hell with Dan as your keeper, Javi has been fucking wonderful.

When you wake up in the night, screaming and crying, thinking you’re still in that closet, he holds you, rocking back and forth, singing quietly as he strokes your hair and lulls you back to sleep. You do the same for him sometimes.

In the first few weeks, when you would be alone for an extended period of time while Javi and Chucho were out working, panic attacks found you. You would call Javi from their home phone and he’d have you tell him all the things you could see that start with a certain letter, then he would talk you through grounding exercises.

If it weren’t for the support you receive from him and your therapist, you would be a catastrophe. As opposed to what you are now, which is simply a mess.

You nod and tilt your chin up, exposing the column of your throat, “I want it. I trust you.”

“Will you tell me if it’s too much?” his touch falls to your ribcage and ghosts down your sides to your hips, pricking your skin with goosebumps.

“I promise,” you breathe, and it turns into a gasp when his tongue massages a circle into your pulse. Your whole body shudders when he seals his lips against you and sucks gently. He migrates down your neck, leaving a trail of saliva shiny on your skin, sending your heart racing and your center vibrating with lust.

“Oh, Javi, that’s so good baby,” you whimper to the ceiling, raking your fingers through his hair. His lips emit a low hum against you, moving to your collarbone where his teeth catch your skin. Your back arches into him, moaning in approval of the sharp sting. He soothes the bite with the gentle caress of his tongue.

Rough hands skate along the tender skin of your thighs. The contact floods you with a neediness, and you grab at his shirt, whimpering, “I want you, Javi.”

He brings his lips to your ear and purrs, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Come on,” you pout and reach for his swollen member, but he redirects your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“You need to learn patience, babygirl,” he chastises, then flicks your earlobe with his tongue before grinding it between his teeth. A spring of pleasure flows down to your cunt. You moan in response, pelvis thrusting forward with a mind of its own. He whispers, “Does that sweet little pussy need attention?”

The words slither around inside you, making you squirm, and you nod breathlessly, “Y-yes.”

His free hand splays across your chest, “Well, that’s too fucking bad . Gonna take my time with you,” he warns as he pushes you back gently until you recline onto your elbows, “Gonna make you beg for it.”

His hot gaze meets yours as his velvet tongue flattens on one of your pebbled nipples. His head swivels back and forth, dragging his tongue across the sensitive bud at a torturously slow tempo. Another shudder runs down the middle of you.

“Fuck- “ you gasp, arching into the contact, head falling backwards for a moment before you return to meet his love-blown eyes.

He responds by taking the nipple between his front teeth and tugging ever-so-gently. You moan from deep in your throat at the ripples of ecstasy that shoots across your body. Your cunt clenches around nothing. He moves to the other tit and works away, lapping and nibbling down on your nipple until you’re writhing beneath him, a constant stream of whimpers falling from your mouth.

“Fuck me, please, Javi, please- “

“I will, cariño,” he promises, planting a hot, wet kiss on your sternum, then your belly, never breaking eye contact, “When I’m ready.”

His tongue draws slow, lazy circles down the soft skin of your abdomen. The sensation rolls across your body and liquifies. He has you shivering and gasping at each touch.

You huff, "Now?"

He chuckles at your frustration, then instructs, “Scoot towards me.”

You follow his order, wiggling forward until your glistening pussy is right on the edge of the table. His hands run down the backs of your thighs, and he spreads you open wide, on display for him.

His eyebrows press into a crease and his lips form an "o" and he drops to his knees at the sight, purring, “I haven’t even touched this pretty pussy yet and, fuck, you’re already so wet.”

“So fucking wet,” you whine, rolling your hips towards him, wordlessly begging him to touch you.

His hot gaze locks on yours, looking up from between your legs as his tongue drags up the middle of your sex. Just a tease. A taste. You ache with want.

“Fucking amazing, baby,” he breathes, and his gaze falls from yours as he gives his full, undivided attention to your cunt. His soft tongue starts rolling across your clit and you ascend to a different plane of existence. Those same molasses circles he drew all over your body, leaving a shiny trail of saliva to where he is now. Over and over and over again as he groans against you.

The throbbing of pleasure keeps accumulating, condensing, slowly and steadily pushing you to new heights. Your face gets flushed and sweaty as your heart pounds in your chest. You roll your hips against his tongue, trying to get more.

He rises to his feet and brings you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, cradling the back of your head with one hand as he pulls his sweatpants down with the other. His pants drop to the ground in a gray heap, releasing his thick, gorgeous cock. His lips capture yours with force, and he growls between messy kisses laced with your arousal, “See- how fucking- good you taste, cariño?”

"I love the way I taste in your mouth," you pant.

His thumb slides hard against your overly sensitive clit. The stimulation feels like an electric cattle prod to your pussy, sending your body bucking and shuddering. The pain is layered, though, and a deep want lays beneath.

"Please, baby," you whine, grabbing at his shirt and tugging at him, "I need you, please-"

You bite your lip in anticipation as the head of his cock nudges your entrance. His nose nuzzles against yours and he continues in a gravelly tone that ricochets down your spine, “Is that what you want, baby?”

Your lips form a pout and you nod, then gently thrust your hips against his, dipping him inside just enough to pull a rumble from his throat. The electric sharpness of his touch on your clit is overtaken by a wanton need for him to fucking destroy you.

“Yes,” you whisper, tilting your pelvis against him, “Fuck me, Javi.”

He slowly drives his hips forward at your admission, filling you, sending waves of pleasure surging from your cunt to the tips of your toes. A moan is ripped from your throat and you throw your head back. He starts to fuck you, pumping into you deep and merciless.

His lips find your neck again. He lays hot, wet kisses on the delicate skin. You run your fingers through his hair and gasp, “That’s fucking perfect, Javi, holy shit,” then tug at the front of his shirt, "Take it off."

He ceases movement, fully sheathed, and sits up, pulling the shirt off over his head. The shirt takes his new glasses with them and they clatter to the floor and he winces. You giggle at the clumsiness. The gentle jostling of your body around his cock trickles ecstasy into your center, and you gasp at the sensation.

A sheen of sweat glistens atop his skin and he's panting as he meets your eyes with a grin. He looks happy. And in love. You probably do, too, because that's how you feel. The way your heart swells almost fucking hurts.

You beckon him closer, and he follows, leaning in slowly to press his plush lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching your back into him, digging your fingernails into his skin. He throbs inside you, making you gasp. His moan vibrates into your lips, and he starts pumping into you, faster, more frantic now.

The way you're huddled against each other, whimpering between kisses, reveling in the divine pleasure each movement, each touch, brings you both. As it always does, it feels like you were made for each other.

As if he can read your mind, he rasps, "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Javi. So- fuck- so fucking much," you pant, pulling his lips against yours again.

He moans in approval and brings his hands to your waist, trailing up your back to your shoulders. He gets a grip on you here and leverages you down on his cock as he thrusts forward, setting a brutal pace. Your whole body buzzes and tingles, and the kisses grow more desperate.

His hips snap into yours, bringing you up higher and higher as your muscles tighten and your body starts to quiver.

“Javi-“ a choked sob escapes you as you start to ascend towards bliss, “I’m fucking cumming- oh, fuck-“

"Fuck yes, cum for me, babygirl," he orders through gritted teeth, "Wanna feel you squeeze me-"

You come completely undone, overtaken with ripples of ecstasy from your center. Your legs clamp down around his hips as your body spasms, and you can hear Javi moan in response to the sensation, pumping into you with reckless abandon a few more times before he spills inside you.

Slowly, your muscles slacken and soften, but before you can release his shoulders from your grasp and lay back on the table, he whispers breathlessly, "Hold on tight."

"Wh-"

His hands move to your ass and you squeal when he picks you up. He carries you into the bedroom as you giggle into his neck, then you both tumble sideways onto the mattress.

"Oh, that's so much better," he groans and sprawls out.

You curl up into the crook of his arm, "You're the one that wanted to- nay, insisted that we- fuck on the table."

"Mmm," he hums and closes his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips, "Just wanted to eat your pussy for breakfast at the kitchen table."

This makes you laugh, loud and untethered, "Worth it?"

He chuckles and nods, eyes still closed, "Worth it."

There's a flutter inside your belly and you gasp, "Oh my god, Javi."

"What?" his body tenses and his brow furrows.

It flutters again and your eyes well with tears, "She's moving. I can feel her moving."

A dimpled smile stretches across his face and he sits up, placing a hand on your small, but still noticeable, baby bump.

"I don't know if you'll be able to feel her kick on the outside," you tell him softly, then chuckle, "She's only a papaya right now."

"That's ok," he mumbles, smiling down at your belly, "Little Miss Rosemary Peña will be able to kick my ass before I know it."

"Probably," you tease.

He grins at you and shakes his head, then lays back down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to cuddle you closer. A comfortable, warm silence embraces the two of you, and your fingers trail along his chest, his belly, his face. Writing love notes on his skin. He plays with your hair and watches you with love sparkling in his dark eyes.

You're home.

[ The End ]

275 notes · View notes

iraprince · 7 months

Note

I adore all your art with cookie and was interested in Sapphicworld- but I’m curious (so plz don’t take this as a negative-) what exactly in your opinion sets it apart from other Queer PBTA hacks like Thirsty Sword Lesbians?

I’d just really like to hear your thoughts about it as a system and world especially given you are a indie developer yourself?

hi!! thank you!!

so, a few caveats before i start off — one, i actually haven't played many other pbta games (like for example i know Of thirsty sword lesbians + own a copy that i've poked around in but im not very familiar w it), so i honestly can't provide much in the way of comparing/contrasting it w other pbta stuff in the same vein, and my impressions of sapphicworld are pretty much just contained to the game as its own thing, not so much sapphicworld as a Type Of Game

and two, while i am a dev myself, i'm a huge novice! like, i'm proud of the stuff i put out and i love doing it, but i personally feel like my lack of experience is such that like, i don't think my opinions in this case are particularly informed by my own work as a dev or anything. all this to say im happy to answer this question, i think i just gotta tackle it from a different frame than what ur specifically asking!

BUT ANYWAY. i can still talk abt why im so excited abt sapphicworld in a way that has kind of outstripped other stuff in general, and for me it's about the world 100%. like i honestly spend close to no time thinking abt the fact that sw is even pbta to be honest. not that the mechanics + gameplay aren't important, bc they are thoughtfully crafted and well done and fun, and i'm saying that from the perspective of someone who playtested earlier versions that have now been reworked! it's just like, not what comes to mind first for me — what's exciting and fresh and irreplaceable abt the game in my mind is like. it is fully committed to immersing you in an extremely lush, strange, richly fleshed out world, one with a long history and folklore/mythology and a TON of really fun npcs who all have different subcultures and its own calendar with seasonal holidays and regional terrain with specific fleshed out dungeons/towns/etc to discover and even like, specific FOODS typical to each different region and and and and —

and maybe at first that seems kind of overwhelming, and tbh it is. when i first got into it and i was going thru the playtest document (which if im remembering right was like. ~300 pages shorter at the time than the current playtest doc) i DO remember anxiously thinking to myself "god this is a LOT and idk if i'll be able to retain enough of this to rp convincingly" etc etc. but like... it's just really compelling, and it does an incredible job of mixing humor and gravity and horniness in a perfect ratio that always comes across as intensely earnest and makes it equally easy to have a fun goofy time or a really emotional time, which i think is REALLY hard to do.

and while normally it's hard for me to get thru something that dense and long all i can really say is that i just straight up like it enough and was charmed by it enough to pick away at it until i grasped it and felt like i understood a bunch about the world, which also has a curve to it bc in structure and tone its very different from any of your... idk more Standard fantasy or sci fi worldbuilding, so it's not like u can immediately slot in ur expectations from other settings and just learn some new vocab words, it's a world that from my perspective also Functions differently than a lot of other fictional settings in a way that's a little hard to describe succinctly. (none of this is succinct to begin with but ykwim). it makes me want to gm my own campaign, really really bad, when usually i have always been absolutely Terrified of the idea of gming! idk man. it has a Flavor. it's full of Vapors. u get transported somewhere else reading it and playing it in a way i haven't experienced in a while and a lot of times after a playtest session i felt like my brain stayed behind in sapphicworld for a pretty long time.

i feel like i am sounding a little melodramatic and incoherent but like. genuinely sapphicworld is just a fictional world that i am really bone-deep charmed by and interested in and when i WAS reading thru the rulebook for those first days it did not take me long at all to find myself constantly thinking "i want to play in this world, i want to play in this world, i can't wait to play in this world," and i just think that's really special. and like — just as your curiosity abt comparing sw to tsl was not intended as a diss or a negative, what im abt to say is similarly neutral — im a person who sometimes finds it a little difficult to click with or feel excited abt a lot of the Queer Indie Stuff that i see get popular with other people, bc it just doesn't connect w my specific lesbian + trans experience; not that it feels inauthentic but that im like, oh, idk, i think these guys are just. not My Zone, ykwim. on the flip side so much of the humor and heart and transness and sex in sapphicworld is something that really resonates w me and just Clicks in a way that i have also found really special.

rounding myself off before i ramble for like five more paragraphs but just as one more morsel of something i like abt sapphicworld that is a little more concrete than me spinning around the room yelling "I JUST LIKE IT OKAY": one of the most fun parts of character creation is getting to mix and match your kind (sort of like ancestry/species, the form ur physical body takes) with a subculture. so u get things like a werewolf babe (cookie! babe being a subculture that focuses on being Like, Totally Hot), or a centaur knight, or a minotaur debaucher, or a vampire cowboy, or an organist (cthulu-y tentacle guy) scenester, or a skeleton wizard, etc etc etc etc — there are SO MANY to pick from that when i was trying to bait my friends into playing w me i couldn't find a convenient way to list them all so ppl could start thinking abt their characters. and every possible combination basically is interesting and amusing and fun and practically THROWS a great oc into your lap and i literally think i could amuse myself endlessly just Making Characters in sapphicworld and never actually playing w them.

[panting, disheveled] so tldr. i like it. uh. what sets sapphicworld apart from other ttrpgs to me is that i have fallen balls to the wall in love with the very soul of it to the point where i don't even really think about it in comparison to other games at all and it has just become an Experience to me and i suppose i cannot guarantee anyone else will fall into insane homosexual hysteria in the same way but here we are. HOPE THAT HELPS

(ALSO PSSST. idk if this is just perfect timing or if ur curiosity was specifically prompted by this but the @sapphicworldttrpg patreon DID just launch and if any of this has been intriguing u should check it out. okay mwah bye)

#anyway thank u bc ive been so busy these past few weeks/months ive had no time to rotate it in my brain #and im not caught up on the most current versions etc #so this was a nice opportunity to slow down and take a breath and geek out abt something i like a lot. :D #sapphicworld #ttrpgs #also hi eclipse i am a little embarrassed to have tagged u onto a post of me just like. Gushing-#-but i want ppl to be able to find the game account lol. [waves sheepishly] i like ur art. as u know.

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stateofcharles · 2 years

Text

family time - GR63

pairing: dad!George Russell x mom!reader

word count: ~ 4,4k

warnings: fluff, labour and birth, fluff again, just fluff really be ready

summary: (requested by Anon) Please do dad!George part 2, pretty please! Him and Jack are making my hormones go crazy + (requested by Anon) Please please write part of Dad George, I am obsessed with the first part and need more.+ prompt n.3 was suggested as well by Anon, thank you lots, i loved writing it! Some glimpses into parenthood with George

a/n: this can be read as standalone or as a part II to this. I HAD TO SORRY, the photo of george meeting little jack made my hormones fly as well and i couldn’t resist. it took me quite a while but i’m actually really proud of this and i also gave the best of myself, so here enjoy this +4k! <3

1. Meeting the twins

It was a calm, sunny, spring day when your babies decided to make their appearance. Your waters had broken early in the morning and as soon as you had realised it you had let out a scream that woke up George immediately. When he noticed the soaked bed sheets it took him only a couple of seconds to join the dots. He helped you to put on some comfortable clothes before grabbing your hospital bag and guiding you to the car. During the ride you could only focus on breathing, while your boyfriend was calling his parents to tell them what was happening.

When you reached the hospital you were laid on a stretcher and brought to the maternity ward. The rest of the day passed almost in a blur, you were too concentrated in your pain to remember clearly what was going on around you.

You just had a vague memory of your midwife, at some point during the evening, telling you that the moment to push had come: you had grabbed George’s hand and poured all your energy into bringing your babies to the world.

After almost two hours you heard the first crying and the little girl was placed on your chest. You were completely captured by her tiny fingers and her buttoned nose, but what made you sob even harder was George sticking out his pinky and the baby grabbing it almost immediately, as if she knew that he was her dad and that she was safe with him. You turned towards him, finding his eyes glistening as well and you tilted your head backwards to leave a kiss on his lips.

Your moment of heaven was interrupted by another contraction, which reminded you there was another baby on their way. The nurse temporarily took the newborn from your arms so that you could push with all your strength, and it was a matter of just 10 minutes before another newborn was crying on your chest, another babygirl. The twins were soon reunited and they both latched on your nipples, whilst both you and your boyfriend were staring at them in awe.

It felt so surreal, the four of you were engulfed in your bubble of pure happiness. George leaned his forehead on yours and then moved slightly to nuzzle your noses together. “Thank you for everything love” he murmured before placing a kiss on your daughters’ heads.

Suddenly a nurse woke you up from your state of trance to ask you whether you already had the names for the babies. Your boyfriend threw you a glance and you nodded, still completely sure about your choices.

He smiled at you before turning to the nurse again, “Amelia Joy and Emma Mae Russell”

2. Visiting the paddock

When your girls were a little older than 1 you and George agreed that it was time for their first race weekend. It was the second race of a double header and you had decided to join your boyfriend only for Saturday and Sunday.

The previous monday your daughters had cried when they had realised their dad hadn’t come home as usual and your heart had broken a little. Their giggles when they had seen him at the airport on Friday night, though, those were music to your ears. They had started getting so excited in their double stroller that you were almost afraid they would fall from it. George had picked Emma up, while you had taken Amelia. Both girls started waving their arms and laughing and you could swear George’s eyes were glistening.

On Saturday you arrived at the paddock late in the morning. The babies were asleep in the stroller, so you swiped your badge and you calmly headed towards the Mercedes hospitality. On your way you met Alex, whom you greeted and you had a word with, mainly about the babies and his plans with his girlfriend to join you and George for a dinner once back in England. In the meantime the girls woke up and they received plenty of raspberries on their tummies from uncle Alex.

At the hospitality you were welcomed by Lewis, who embraced you in a tight hug before focusing on the babies. Amelia literally lightened up when she saw the man and started kicking her legs; Lewis threw you a glance, as if asking for permission, and when you smiled he picked up the little girl. On the contrary, when Emma saw that the man was wearing the same T-shirt her daddy had, she started babbling “dadadada”, which you knew was the word both babies used when they wanted your or George’s attention.

Lewis then, who was playing with little Amelia in his arms, told you that George was speaking to the engineers and that he could take the three of you to see him. You gladly accepted and the older man guided you through the garage.

Your daughters soon became the main attraction of the whole team. Whenever you would walk next to someone who knew who you were, they would immediately stop whatever they were doing and they would greet the girls. You had lost the count of how many times you had repeated “This is Emma, while Lewis is holding Amelia”.

Finally you got to your boyfriend, who had his back to you and was speaking with his engineer and Toto. When the twins noticed their daddy’s presence they didn’t waste their time to make themselves heard. They simultaneously started their babbled “dadadada” and George immediately turned around.

He smiled brightly when he saw the girls and quicked excused himself to the others to hurry to you and take Emma from your arms. He peppered with kisses her whole face but before he could even turn Amelia started stretching her arms towards him, wanting to be held. George took her from Lewis’ arms as well, so that he was now standing proudly with one twin per arm. In the distance you saw Mercedes’ social media manager snapping photos of the moment, and you knew it was just a matter of time before the whole F1 fandom would start going crazy for daddy George.

George then introduced the girls to Toto and his race engineer, and when he stepped outside the garage with still the babies in his arms he was met by Charles and Daniel. Knowing your daughters were in safe hands, you allowed yourself to relax a little and you went to the toilet and organised the babies’ bag in case of emergency .

By the time you had come back there was no sight of your boyfriend or your babies. Before you could even panic you heard giggles from inside the garage, so you went to check. You found yourself in front of probably one of the sweetest scenes of your life.

George was sitting in his car with Emma on his lap, while the girl was clicking any button she could reach. Beside the car there was Amelia, who had come back in Lewis’ arms, who was trying to stretch towards her dad to sit there as well.

After a couple of minutes George took her as well, and now both your girls were on their dad's lap, being still so small to fit at the same time. Your heart skipped a bit at the sight and you had to fight your tears back. The babies were clearly happier than ever to be with their daddy, and you could tell George was having the time of his life as well, spending time in his car - probably one of his favourite places - with two of the most important people in his life.

Furtively you pulled out your phone and took a photo of the scene, too sweet and spontaneous not to be remembered, and you set it as your lock screen immediately after.

Later that night you were lying in bed after a tiring day. The twins hadn’t stopped moving not for a minute, too thrilled by everything going on around them, and they started moving even more when the mechanics cheered after George took pole in quali. When he came back to the garage the first thing he did was smash a forehead kiss on your daughters’ and then he bent his back down to kiss you and nuzzle your noses together.

Now he was having a shower and the girls were in their bassinets already asleep. You opened Instagram and the photo you found on your homepage made some little tears escape your eyes. It was the photo the admin had taken at the garage: George was facing away, he had his gaze turned towards Amelia, in his right arm, who was pointing something outside the garage whilst Emma, in his left, was playing with his T-shirt collar. The second was a snap of the babies on his lap in the car: Emma was leaning on George’s shoulder laughing with crinkled eyes and Amelia was focused on pushing the buttons on the steering wheel. What took you a while to notice was that there was a third photo after that one, and it was of you staring at your family with a hand over your mouth and clearly teary-eyed. The caption filled your heart with love, “The sweetest (and best) family ever is here❤️”

You quickly liked it and left a heart emoji in the comment. And the admin was indeed right, your family was indeed the sweetest (and the best).

3. Stuffed animals and sunflowers

One of the first toys the twins were ever gifted were 2 stuffed animals, the first presents from uncle Lewis: an elephant for Amelia and a bunny for Emma. Both girls had immediately become attached to them, almost obsessed with them - much to their uncle’s delight.

They would carry the animals literally everywhere: in their bassinets, in their highchairs while eating, in the paddock, when going out for a stroll and you and George almost had to fight every evening when it came to bath time, because the twins wouldn’t let them go even in the bathtub.

You had lost the count of how many times you had to wash them because they were too dirty or soaked in drooling due to the twins teething. When the babies would realise their plushies had disappeared they would start crying non-stop, and calming them was almost an impossible challenge.

That was why you knew that day you were screwed.

Emma and Amelia had just fallen asleep on the sofa - weirdly without the toys, so you decided to clean their room up. You found Emma’s bunny on the floor and you quickly placed it on the shelf, then bent down again to pick up the elephant as usual. You frowned as you noticed it wasn’t there, normally they would lie in the same place, but still you decided not to worry: it probably had been left somewhere in the house, so you kept tidying.

Terror flashed in your eyes when you finished cleaning but there was no sign of the little elephant. You knew for sure that wasn’t going to end well. You had looked for it everywhere but in vain, it seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly you heard the door opening and you knew it was George even because you could hear the twins babbling; they had woken up as your boyfriend had stepped in, it was like they had a radar and they were always awake whenever their daddy came home.

You chose to forget for a moment about the whole plushie matter and instead focus on your family. Both you and George played with them for a while on their little mattress in the living room before you noticed it was dinner time. As you headed to the kitchen George went to the babies’ room to get their pyjamas and bathe them.

“Darling?” you heard him call you from upstairs, “where’s the elephant? I can’t find it” You panicked. Shit. This was going to be a mess, you knew it.

You reached them in the room, where George was standing in the middle. Emma was peacefully playing with her bunny on the changing table, whilst Amelia was curled in her daddy’s arms, her head tucked in his neck and you could already hear some sniffles: it was just a matter of time before she would start crying frantically.

George threw you a glance, meaning tell me we haven’t lost it please, but you could only panicky nod. He murmured “fuck!”, but it was already too late. As if she had seen her parents’ glances and understood the meaning, Amelia started crying abruptly, her sobs were more heartbreaking than usual.

“Phan dada,” she managed to say through the sobs, “phan, phan”, it was like a chant at some point.

Emma seemed to sense her sister’s sadness because she started crying as well. Good! Now you had two crying toddlers that you didn’t know how to calm. George started rocking Amelia in his arms and you picked Emma up to do the same, but nothing seemed to work.

“Oh god, where could we have left them? Georgie?” you asked, almost freaking out. Finding that plushie had out of sudden become the aim of that night, considering that now the twins would refuse to do anything without it.

“I don’t know, last time I saw it was this morning when you went with them to the grocery store.” he answered, as nervous as you were.

“Wait, what if she left it in the cart? Or somewhere at the shop? Nonono George, it’s the end if this is what has happened, they will drive us crazy.”

From the outside it could seem a funny scene, almost ridiculous, but you actually knew very well that it was a matter of life. Your sleeping - and your headache - quite depended on it.

George handed you a crying Amelia as he headed downstairs. Great, now you had two crying babies to calm! You followed him ready to throw him the worst insults, when you saw he was picking up his Mercedes’ keys. He checked the clock, 19:28.

“Babe where are you going?” you asked.

“Going to the store, I have about half an hour before it closes. I’ll look for the toy and ask the salesperson if they’ve seen it.” And with that he was out of the door. You knew why he was so determined to find the damn elephant: lately he hadn’t been sleeping very well, too worried about the car’s not-up-to-par performance and a sleepless night was the last thing he needed, his headache was already pounding.

While he was away you tried everything to soothe the twins’ sobs. After a while Emma’s died down and she - thank god! - decided to focus on the cartoons you had put on the TV while chewing her bunny’s ears. Amelia was instead desperate and you had tried everything to distract her: bottle, food, pacifier, cartoons, cuddling, rocking through the room, but nothing seemed to work.

It was a little after 8pm when you saw the lights of George’s car in the driveaway. You anxiously waited for him to walk in but when he did and you saw his disappointed face you were struggling yourself not to cry. It was going to be one of those nights and you really weren’t ready. You loved your daughters but a night of sleep was really appealing.

You sighed disconsolately and sat on the couch. George headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat and brought you a slice of the pizza left in the freezer. He sat next to you and switched the TV from cartoons to some sappy movie, but neither of you paid attention to it. Emma fortunately didn’t fuss when she saw the cartoon disappear, but on the contrary Amelia was still whining.

George was clearly losing his patience: he never yelled at the babies when they misbehaved, but you could spot his nervousness. You didn’t want him to take it out on Amelia, so you decided to go out for a while with her, one last attempt to calm her.

“Babe,” you whispered not to worsen his evident headache, “I’m gonna grab the car and take a drive around here to see if she calms down.” You left one kiss on his forehead and then briefly nuzzled your noses together.

He nodded and you could see the relief on his face knowing he was going to have a bunch of minutes of silence. Before you could exit the door he called you, tiredness obvious in his voice.

“Y/N,” poor boy, he really was tired “today I drove some people from the team to the circuit when we went testing, I moved the babies’ seats in the trunk.” He rubbed one hand over his eyes, you could tell he was going to fall asleep soon.

“Ok Georgie, thanks.” You left another kiss but on his lips before leaving.

When you were in the driveway you started talking to the baby still in your arms, “Mel you see the stars?” you pointed your fingers to the sky, “look how shining they are! And that’s the moon baby”. Even this attempt was totally futile, instead your baby started again to whisper phan, phan. You sighed heavily, understanding it was a lost fight. You just hoped the car ride would make her fall asleep.

You went to open the trunk to take the seat and that was when you saw it: a glimpse of a plushie ear popping up from under the seat. You quickly lifted it and there you saw the elephant: it had been under there the whole day and now it was a bit flattened from the weight of the seat.

You immediately grabbed it and showed it to the baby, “Mel look! It’s phan!”

That sentence seemed to awaken your whining baby. Her eyes literally lit up when she saw the animal in your hand and she wasted no time in catching it. As soon as she had it in her hands she put it in her mouth and you could see her drooling. Good old habits.

The car ride was useless in the end and you were ready to come back in. However you couldn’t forget George’s tired and sad face. You came up pretty quickly with an idea. While Amelia was still biting her plushie you hurried yourself to collect a couple of sunflowers from the ones you had been growing in your garden and you put them in your baby’s hand.

She stared at you right in the eyes while you were speaking, “Listen Mel,” you pointed a finger to the flowers, “now we give these to dada, because even if he’s tired he went to the store just to look for phan. You give them to him and you say ‘thank you dada’, fine?” She just shook her hands and you could only sigh, hoping she had understood.

George was still on the sofa when you entered, he lifted his head up as soon as he heard the door opening: he clearly couldn’t understand why you were already back. When he saw that Mel had her toy in her mouth he heaved a sigh of relief: he was going to be able to sleep later that night.

You placed Amelia on his lap and the baby started giggling at the sight of her daddy. George was still tired but this time you saw a little smile he was trying to hold back. No matter how tired or angry he was, his babies could lift his mood in a second.

You handed the flowers to Mel and she gave them to George. Seeing his confused face you reminded your daughter, “Baby, what do you say?” She seemed to struggle for a moment but then she babbled “Tek dada phan”

George’s eyes filled with tears, a blend of commotion and tiredness, and he hugged the baby tightly, keeping her close to his chest. “Anytime baby” he whispered on the top of her head before pressing a kiss there.

The baby then quickly threw herself out of her dad’s arms, falling on the couch next to her half-asleep sister and screaming “EMA! PHAN!” Both then began to play with their animals, mainly smashing one against the other, but happiness was blatant on their faces and in their little laughs. That’s the only thing that matters you thought as you fell into George’s arms, a soft smile adorning both your mouths.

4. Braiding time with super dada

You were running late, extremely late. George had decided to bring you and the twins to the event he had been invited to, an occasion to spend some family time - and also to give the audience the content they loved.

You had just finished your shower and had worn the suit you had chosen with your best friend: a plain black suit that felt very comfortable and which you preferred to an elegant dress, considering that you would spend the whole night running after two toddlers who loved to walk around everywhere ever since they had learnt how to.

George was for sure going to spend the night talking to important people and other celebrities, so you had already reckoned that looking after the kids would be on you. You didn’t mind though: Emma and Amelia were becoming more and more of comedians, always managing to put a smile on everyone’s face and laughing for anything.

When you walked out your bedroom and you arrived in the living room what you found was a battlefield. Emma was running around shouting dadadada - her favourite word apparently - while George was busy trying to braid Amelia’s hair. He was wearing his trousers only and he was clearly in a rush, unsuccessfully attempting to make braids out of your daughter’s hair. The girl wasn’t helping though, too busy laughing and moving her head to follow her sister’s running.

You caught Emma just before she could bump against the wall and you brought her on the sofa placing her on your knees; George next to you breathed a sigh of relief. Both girls were still laughing out loud for no reason, and in the end you couldn’t help but giggle as well.

George was staring at you as if you had three heads. You tried to contain your laugh, “Sorry bubs but you know their laughs are contagious.” He slightly shook his head, knowing that deep down you were right.

“Ok girls, listen now,” you called the attention of your babies, “now mommy puts cartoons on the TV and you watch them whilst we do your hair, fine?”

“MOMMY TOONS!” Emma shouted, so you grabbed the remote and set some random ‘Peppa Pig’ episode, a cult classic to make the girls sit still.

“Ok babe now let’s braid these princesses’ hair.” You winked at your boyfriend before starting your work. Both Emma and Amelia loved to be dressed in the same way, so you had picked two identical dresses and decided to braid both their hair, embellishing it with some little bow hair band.

Halfway through your work of art Amelia spoke, “Mama, dada good wok?” she asked, wanting to know if her dad’s work was coming out well.

You smiled and nodded to your girl, “Of course baby, your dad is good at everything, isn’t he?” and your baby nodded back.

George had really become a master in taking care of the girls throughout the years, and he would do anything gladly: from brushing their hair to choosing their outfits, cooking them their favourite meal - fruit salad with too many strawberries, and he even loved cooking biscuits with them to surprise you in the morning.

You made sure to take photos whenever you caught them in one of these moments and you sometimes would share them in your stories. The fans would go insane for those frames you provided them and every time ‘Dad George’ would trend on twitter for hours.

“Super dada” Emma exclaimed after a couple of seconds; you saw George’s eyes immediately paint with tears, he still wasn’t used to it even after two years - and you honestly thought he would never go to.

‘Super dada’ was the writing you decided to print on your daughters’ onesies for George’s first Father’s Day: that morning you had carefully placed them on his chest and they had woken him up - well, as much as two two-month-old babies could do, and when your boyfriend had opened his eyes he had found you beside him with his breakfast on a tray and a present in your hands.

When he then had picked Amelia up he had noticed the onesies and that was when he bursted into tears. The twins had quickly followed and in a couple of minutes the four of you were all crying. Needless to say that was one of the most beautiful - and most emotional - days of your lives, one you wouldn’t easily forget.

After a while your girls’ hair was ready so you carefully placed them on the sofa, Peppa Pig still playing on the screen, hoping they wouldn’t destroy their look while you two finished getting ready. When both of you were standing you gently slapped George’s butt, “Hey!” he exclaimed, turning to face you with an amused expression on his face.

“C'mon Mister, we don’t wanna be late and you still need to finish dressing up!” you encouraged him while you headed to the shoe cabinet to grab your heels.

“I’m sure neither you nor the fans would mind if I showed up like this, I mean-” he pointed at his six pack, “this is some hot sight, right?”

You came back with the shoes in your hand and you couldn’t help but laugh at his foolishness, “I’m sure it is but I’d like to keep it just for me,” you went to hug him, “and besides your fans see already enough in those thirst traps of yours that you love to post.” You crossed your arms falsely pissed whilst he laughed.

“Well then-” he stopped to lower his mouth to your ear, “I’ll make sure you’ll be the only one who will enjoy this sight tonight.” As he whispered you felt a shiver running down your spine

“Well, deal.” You replied in the same tone before leaning in to leave a kiss on his lips.

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panicawa · 11 months

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ADHD+feedback=agony

This is going to be a long and possibly boring text post about art and posting art online, with some self-reflection on top. I don’t usually do these and it’s been ages since I’ve actually written any kind of a longer text, but I really need to put these thoughts onto imaginary digital paper. I’d appreciate if you read it through and if you could give me any form of feedback on this! Your own experiences and etc. I do art because it’s a part of my ADHD-ridden personality, this desire to create always buzzing inside, it’s neither and both work and hobby for me, something I love and hate the most in life, because it tortures me as much as it fills me with joy. So if you ask me ‘hey, what’s your purpose for drawing? What’s your goal, your endgame?’ the answer is really ‘there’s none, it’s more of a curse, it’s just something that makes me alive so I can’t help but continue, cause if I stop it feels like I’d vanish or lose myself completely’. I can’t say I’ve done all other forms of media to express myself, but I’ve tried a lot of things (poetry, photography, music, cosplay, crafting and so on and so forth) and nothing comes close to drawing. And I’m not even sure if ‘expressing myself’ is a right way to put it because it’s not that my art is any kind of deep and meaningful, I just illustrate plots and characters I find appealing in some way or another, for the most part. Now, I don’t consider myself to be a professional, but I also have 20+ years of experience at this point so I might as well be, depending on how you look at it. All self-beating aside, I like to think that my art is at somewhat plausible level at the moment? I am proud of how far I’ve come despite everything and I can still see a lot of progress happening, and god knows I work my ass off to continue improving. The main thing I want to address here is how erratic and incomprehensible my online feedback has been recently and how it makes my brain perform loops of dissociation. I wish I didn’t care for feedback at all, but sadly I do, it’s what gives me the most dopamine. I’ve recently discovered it’s yet-another ADHD thing. Nothing else in life makes me as fulfilled as seeing other people enjoy my pictures, it’s just pure joy without any downsides to it. It’s really not about financial gain from art or fame and popularity, but just creating something new and then seeing people have a positive emotional response to it is what lights up my life and helps to get through all the shit it throws at me. And considering that my family is mostly completely disinterested in what I create (which has been hurting me more than I can describe since I was a little baby), and my paranoia makes it hard to accept compliments from friends and partners, online feedback has been the best medicine for me. I used to tell myself one day I will get good enough to have some following that would be excited about my art and give me constant feedback in return, because that’s what I always saw happen to other artists. I never aimed to be the most popular or to achieve certain numbers of likes, just being ‘good, on average’ was the ideal for me as long as I’ve had a constant crowd behind. I thought, a lot of musicians of the past don’t really make any more new hit songs, but they still can gather a crowd of long-term fans at a concert, right? Once you make it to some level of popularity you never really go into a complete oblivion, as long as you’re still working your craft and putting it out there? And there have been times in my life where I thought that the moment has finally happened and was now my reality, that my art was finally well enough to climb into ‘popular post’ tiers, and that I have gathered enough audience to have a stable interest in my publications, but it never lasted too long. I understand how social media work, how people change hobbies and fandoms, and how the world around us changes altogether, but recently the ride has been too wild for me to comprehend. Although I have a significant number of followers on all my main social media (tumblr, twitter, IG) (and a lot of those followers are fresh newcomers too), the feedback has just been... all over the place. I understand that I’m dipping into different fandoms here and there (then again, the vast majority of them are extremely popular on their own, so you’d think that should help the situation too?) and I’m experimenting with my art styles, but no matter how hard I try there’s just no consistency. I post something that I’m sure will do well and it does. I post something I’m sure will do well again and it completely flops. I post some scribes for fun and it goes super high. I post another funny thing and there’s no response. One post gets 10k likes, the next one gets 30 likes. Then the next one gets 5k. Then 15. I feel like I have no control over it at all, no understanding. It feels like playing a roulette. Just up to chance every time. It’s the same on all social platforms so I don’t think I could attribute it to algorithms only. How can I ever try to invest time and energy into bigger projects if I can’t even estimate if it has a chance of being any sort of likeable? Is my art just extremely non-consistent on its own and I just don’t notice? What’s going on??? I’m entirely grateful for big numbers but I’d really rather have them spread through most things I post? Of course some publications are going to be more popular than others, it’s perfectly fine, but while 300 likes on some posts and 600 likes on other is understandable, the gaps between 10k+ and less-than-30 are just too extreme? Especially when they happen one after the other? I swear I never see this with other people and it just makes my brain intolerable. For all those of you who have reached the bottom of this rant, thank you! If you have any thoughts to share or similar experiences, please do let me know! My main concern here is how to battle this feeling of am-I-going-insane-or-what, and not the numbers of likes. Finding any way out of this would be good because it has really interfered with my art process lately and I hateeee it!

#big text post

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saintzenni · 4 months

Note

Hey have been asking enterprise writers these questions from the fanfic asks going around, feel free to answer or not! (I just like hearing how people write). 🖖

What’s your favourite line you’ve written in a fic?

What is your ideal writing set up?

What is your favourite fic you’ve written and why?

Any advice for writers working through writers block or burnout?

oooo first ask!!! this is so exciting hehehe

what is your favourite line you've written in a fic?

that is a very good question. i think probably this one:

“Captain Reed was sombre, never speaking more than he needed to, and he carried himself with a martial erectness that made his eyes alert and watchful, as if he was concerned that one of the women in their satins and leg-of-mutton sleeves would suddenly draw a bayonet on him; his collar was crisp and unwieldy on his neck and the pin on his cravat was simple, just a tear-drop pearl.”

from “Danse Macabre” or this one:

“Garak doesn’t answer, instead watching the slow march of the stars like arachnids across the windowpane.”

from “Cobwebs on the Windowpane,” but it’s really hard to choose!! i have a few others i constantly re-use lol, which i guess are kind of my favourites in a different way? for example, i say “clavicle” an ungodly amount, lol.

what is your ideal writing setup?

i’m pretty low-maintenance when it comes to my writing setup. usually i like to write sitting in my bed (because it’s warm and comfy). i always prefer to have a big glass of water with me and a snack nearby so i don’t have to get up while i’m in the zone lol. i tend to slouch real bad over my laptop oops

i use word on my laptop almost exclusively (times new roman, 12pt font, 8pt spacing between indented paragraphs. i am begging ao3 to let us indent our paragraphs PLEASE). i barely ever write on my phone except to record small notes for ideas that come to me during the day.

what is your favourite fic you've written and why?

this is really tough because i go through phases with almost all of my stories where i intermittently think they’re the best thing i’ve ever written and then i hate them. i think right now i love rereading “Sing Me Lullabies in Form of Your Catcalls” probably the most out of any of my stories. i'm really like “Daydreams (Are a Mild Form of Dissociation)” because it’s the longest thing i’ve written in years and i’m really proud of myself for sticking with it even when i felt like giving up. i think “Danse Macabre” is also up there for me because it’s so out of my comfort zone but i don’t think it can be at the top yet because i’ve only written one chapter of the story, haha. and of course i loved collaborating with @glitter-and-metal on “You and Me”! it was really neat seeing how other people work :)

any advice for writers working through writer's block or burnout?

when i’m having a period of writer’s block, i tend to try to do other things that don’t involve writing. i go out with friends, focus on schoolwork, and try to enjoy myself. sometimes, in the process of living my life, ideas will come to me and i’m inspired to write them down! also i find taking a long ass shower and just thinking helps. watching the show i’m writing for inspires me when i’m stuck on stuff like dialogue or characterization. but sometimes, all i can do is sit down and pound something out, sod how good it is. that works best i find when i’m really in a funk, because at least then when i come back to it, i’ll have something to work off of.

thanks so much for asking me!! it’s really nice of you <33 i hope i answered your questions well enough and i wasn’t too verbose lmfao

#star trek enterprise #star trek: enterprise #enterprise #writing #fanfic #star trek #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer

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letstalkwhump · 11 months

Text

Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today.

Today’s I’m talking whump with the amazing @lonesome–hunter!

(this blog and the recommended pieces contain NSFW and are 18+)

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump! Would you mind sharing a little about yourself?

Howdy! My name is Sarah but everyone usually calls me Lonesome. I'm an elder here in the community lol. I love thrifting, smoking pot, birdwatching and Disney World (I live so close to it). My favorite colors alternate between black, various greens and burnt orange. I truly love all animals. There's no way I could pick just one. I am particularly fond of moths, owls, elephants and exotic birds.

I'm a big stoner goth aunt and I love connecting with people. So feel free to come talk to me anytime!

What does whump mean to you?

It's absolutely an outlet for me. When I was a kid I couldn't figure out why I liked seeing people tied up in people's basements in movies and on TV so much but it never left my mind. Those feelings are there, the excitement. When I started writing in fifth grade I realized I could produce those feelings by writing the stories myself.

And trauma dumping through fictional people is almost therapy lol.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

During the first season of Supernatural I got on live journal and found other SPN communities. Then I fell down a rabbit hole that led me to whump. I finally had a word and a whole bunch of people who felt the same way which felt validating after being told I'm weird from teachers and family members.

During the pandemic I reconnected with it when I was in a dark place and really got into what everyone was doing. I thought "maybe I can do this". The rest is history.

Do you think your view on whump changed since you joined in terms of trope enjoyment or consumption style?

My view on whump has always been the same really. No one is hurting anyone and with proper warnings we can write the darker stuff some of us really enjoy.

I can't really say there are any I changed my mind over. Any trope can be good if it sucks you in with the writing.

And your favourite whump tropes because it’s guaranteed there’ll be more than one!

Ooh wee here we goooo lol. I dig dehumanization, whipping, sadistic whumpers, noncon, water torture, stress positions, begging. So many.

Time to share your awesome writing. Do you have a favourite piece you've written?

So my first main series “The Devil’s Highway” has been my baby for three plus years and I’m excited to rework it now that I have more tools at my disposal. That being said, I really am proud of what I did with “Bury Me Beneath The Weeping Willow Tree”. It features some heavy TWs so be mindful of that but that almost stopped me from wanting to do it. Would showing Big Boy and Darlin’s graphic murder be too far? Probably lol. But I really dug deep in and got emotional writing it honestly. And it shows Ezra that this weird love Josiah has for me won’t protect him like he thinks it will. It didn’t work for Big Boy. Those two guys are secretly my favorite and I’m most excited about reworking that particular story.

Your imagery is deliciously brutal and creepy. I’m obsessed with it, it’s that good! Do you have a writing routine or is it more when inspiration strikes?

Definitely a night owl. I can’t focus until it’s dark out. Gotta have water and a little sweet drink to keep me focused. I tend to write when something strikes, lately it’s been extremely dry for me creatively but I’m trying to stretch my legs again and get back into it.

And do you find that it’s easier to write some things over others?

I can write the hell out of dreams, surrealism and atmosphere. That’s always been my favorite thing to do writing wise. Also death fics are fun lol.

Dialogue is my least favorite and it probably shows but can’t get better without practice.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment?

Been working on the rework of The Devil’s Highway, started a fun little prompt series about a bunch of masked men and I have another forced to fight series with slow burn romance than I’ve ever done before.

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

I wish I could remember the dad joke my customer told me last night that sent me into a coughing fit but I have another one for you.

"What do you call a factory that makes okay products?" "A satisfactory."

That got a laugh out of me! Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

Just have fun. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself and just write for yourself.

And tag your stuff!

Shout out to your favourite writing/whump blogs, bffs or people who've inspired you. We're hyping everyone one up here!!!

Oh man there's so many I could be here all day but these folks have truly helped me so much over the years and I would die for them lol

@knivestothroats, @galaxywhump, @girlsjustwannadrawwhump, @evermetnotforgotten, @redstainedsocks, @coldresolve, @whumpshaped, @whumpfigure, @ephemeral-phosphorescence, @whump-me-all-night-long,

Anything you'd like to add?

Save Florida from Facists!

So good to have you here today, @lonesome--hunter!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

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