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couldyouspeakmyname · 3 years

Note

Hi! 💕 I hope I'm submitting this correctly but I'm assuming you write for the Shishigumi lions? If so, I'd like to request some sfw and nsfw headcanons for them dating a female herbivore and it's totally up to you which members you would like to write for (although Free and Agata are my favourites!)

You know I love the Shishigumi, a lot. So I went overboard. I offer my apologies.

I will say, since I usually put NSFW under cut, but due to length I put it all under cut, I do have a big warning for it as to not surprise y’all

There’s a lot I could write for them, but to keep it reasonable I kept it kinda short! Feel free to request more if you’d like!

I’m also not great at nsfw so I tried my best I hope you like it anyway

SFW

Ibuki (I love him and will never NOT include him in an ask about the Shishigumi)

Ibuki is probably the best one at dating an herbivore. He’s very gentle and conscientious of you as an animal and your limitations

That being said, he’s top tier respectful. He knows you may not be as physically strong as her is, but that doesn’t mean you’re not strong in your own way. He also likes the idea of protecting you.

Always walks side by side with you. He’s nervous about holding your hand, but he’d never say it. Do it for him.

Has eaten meat for YEARS and really struggles with that part of himself.

Doesn’t kiss you for a really long time, he’s inwardly terrified that he’s going to hurt you. You’d have to make the first move.

Keeps you away from his work. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.

He knows his world is dark, gritty, and that you shouldn’t be a part of it. He wants to send you away, but can’t. He thinks he’s selfish. You’ll need to reassure him this is what you want.

Herbivores can’t see in the dark, so he keeps lights on in key areas so you can see better.

Protective. If anyone gives you any trouble he’s quick to correct their behavior, he can be incredibly intimidating when he wants to be

Slouches so you’re around the same height. Give him a back/neck rub at the end of the day. It will make him feel better, and he liked being close to you

The kind of boyfriend that remembers all the major events in your relationships, including small ones.

Once he gets comfortable, he’s a snuggle bug in private. Cheek kisses, arm around your shoulders when you’re sitting, wrapping his arms around your waist when you’re standing.

Lions can’t purr, but if they COULD oh man, he’d never stop

Free

He’s famous for enjoying females, so the fact that he’s dating someone seriously that’s not a feline is really strange

You should have seen the expression on one of the more flirty female lions when he turned them down.

Everyone thinks he’s joking about dating you at first, when they see he’s actually serious the teasing dies down, but doesn’t stop (it’s at his expense don’t worry).

“Has hell frozen over? What’s someone like you doing with a guy like Free?”

He honestly doesn’t expect you guys to stay together for very long. He expects it to be a fling. Only it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t get tired of you or eat you....It’s weird but wonderful.

Has eaten meat for years, and has a hard time letting himself kiss on anywhere but on the cheek. Likes to throw his arm around you and hug you. So he does show affection, but keeps his mouth FAR AWAY from your throat.

Rests his head on top of yours

Calls you “Babe” a lot. He has a lot of other nicknames for you to. Some of the lions don’t even know your name, just that you’re dating Free.

Over. Protective. He knows the market, the animals in it and the animals who come to it. He is very prepared to shoot or maim anyone who tries anything. The fact he’s such a loose canon does help scare people off. Everyone knows who you’re dating and they make sure not to push it.

He likes to show you off. He’s that guy that carries a picture of you in his wallet. Anyone who asks about him dating someone and he’ll show you off.

“Sure she’s hot, but have you see the ass on my girlfriend?”

Likes to show off in front of you. Fights? Yes. Please watch him and root for him.

Tries to get you to get a tattoo, but will NOT get identical ones. He doesn’t want to jinx it. If you wanna have similar tattoos though, that’d be okay.

Dolph

A relationship with Dolph when you’re an herbivore is really low key. A lot of people don’t know you’re dating. He doesn’t want to put you in jeopardy

He’s pretty serious and it’s hard for him just to relax. He does relax when you’re alone and he knows you’re safe.

Likes to lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beat

When you do go out together, you may have to initiate any hand holding. He plays it off, but he’s secretly happy

He smokes, and you may have to get on him for that if you don’t like it. It’d be very hard for him to quit

Will let you braid his mane, but wont keep it in if you go out

Supports your endeavors and does whatever he can to help. He may get a little to into it. You’ll say you wanna take a trip and he has everything planned out. It’s a blessing and a curse.

Likes how small your hands are in his

When he has a hard day, just hold him. He’s heavy and will lean into you, but he just needs the support

Has to relearn how to be himself, and you really help with that. He smiles more when he’s alone with you.

Has a really deep, gruff, morning voice

Agata

If lions could blush you bet he’d be constantly red. If you actually look close, the insides of his ears usually are

Loves holding your hand and hugs

Respects your boundaries. If Ibuki is the king of respect, Agata is the prince.

He’s still part of a dangerous organization in the black market, so when he’s working he’s all business. Only a few of the members know about you (just the inner circle).

Agata, like most of the others, is petrified to kiss you. He probably has the worst anxiety out of anyone else. He’s a meat eater, he’s eaten your kind of meat before. What if He accidently hurts you?

Texts you all the time.

The one you can be on the phone with for hours and not know it

Likes it when you run your fingers through his mane

He’s stronger than he looks, so he may just pick you up and carry you every now and again. He just likes to hold you, let him have this

Brings you flowers and your favorite snacks whenever you have a bad day

Stammers when he’s flustered.

Likes to bury his face in your neck

He has a hard time being who he is versus how he thinks he should be. The fact he can goof off and just enjoy life without the strain of being a lion is a blessing.

Probably says he loves you before you do. He does it when he’s half asleep on your lap. He falls asleep before he realized he said it, whoops.

You’d have to be the one to be aggressive in public. “Excuse me, he asked for no pickles” meme

Miguel

He’s pretty quiet in his group, so no one knows you’re dating

Miguel is really good at thinking his feelings and thoughts, but isn’t great at voicing them. He does a lot of little things to show affection. He brings you a warm drink on a cold day, has food for you when you wake up, holds you hand

He likes to try and see the best in everything, even if he knows how ugly the world is

His mane is maintained carefully. Once you get really serious, he may ask you to help him with it. It’s pretty intimate, and when you’re done he looks at you like you have stars in your eyes

He’s the force of protection you don’t even know is there. He’s probably saved your life like, eight times, and never let you know that he did

Sabu

If Miguel is quiet, Sabu is dead silent

No one knows anything about his personal life, let alone his dating life

They find out one day when the group is trying to make plans for a fun sort of day, and he turns them down because you two have a date. It becomes a secret mission for the group to find out who you are.

They don’t, Sabu is the oldest member and one of the most clever

A popular headcanon is that his face is really, REALLY messed up. I share that headcanon. The first time you kiss the scars on his face he chokes up

He goes all in. he’s yours as long as you’ll have him. He expects the same respect from you.

He’s eaten meat for a really long time, but he has more semblance of control being a smidge older than most of the other lions.

A bit pessimistic

Kisses you good morning and goodnight.

Cuddles on the couch. He’ll watch whatever you want to, but he has his preferences

Wears his face covering everywhere, you’ll need to remind him he can relax when you’re alone

. If you get out of somewhere like work or school late at night, he’s waiting for you to take you home.

So used to wearing a suit and tie, he doesn’t know how to do casual wear very well. He lets you pick most of his stuff out.

Jinma

He knows a lot about the black market, so he’s over protective from the get go. However, since he does know so much, he knows what connections to make to keep you safe.

Eats meat, and is self conscious that you’ll judge him for it. Please be nice to him

Kiss his eye with the spot, it makes him feel special

(Personal headcanon) His mane has never grown right, so he keeps it short. He’s kind of self conscious about it. A lions mane means a lot to male lions, he tries to keep it nice but...it’s nothing like some of the other Shishigumi’s manes. Pet it, run your fingers through it. Males don’t complimented enough. It’ll make him feel loved.

If you ever wanna go anywhere fancy, because of his connections and knowledge, you can basically go anywhere at any time...as long as it’s in the black market, but he may know a guy that knows a guy. If there’s something more legal you need, he checks in with his other gang members to see who knows who

Has a wicked good memory, remembers pretty much everything you’ve said

Dope

A gentleman. He will hold doors open for you, offer his arm and hand when you walk together, brings you flowers.

He, like all the Shishigumi, eats meat. He is self conscious about it an doesn’t want to scare you away. He will be upfront about it though. He wants honesty. he talks it out with you, and he will try and cut back but being part of the Shishigumi, and a meat addict, means it’s very hard for him to stop. He probably wont, not completely, but he tries not to do it around you.

He doesn’t brag he’s dating you, but if he’s asked he gets this really peaceful look on his face

If you ever take him shopping at any flea market or outdoor stalls, he will get you the best bargain. He’s also amazing at helping you with any work contracts, apartment contracts and anything else.

Likes it when you brush his mane, and lets you put it up for him before he goes out. He doesn’t let you do anything fancy, but says when you do it it somehow turns out better

Hino

Hino is very attractive. His looks are what brings jobs in, so he keeps the fact that you’re dating a secret for business.

Gives you extra affection in private because of it. Kisses, hugs, all that. His favorite is to kiss the back of your hand, he is kind of a romantic.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s still a lion. If he hears that an animal is giving you a hard time, he will take them down and look handsome AF doing it

Eats meat, and like all the other lions worries for your safety. He tends to eat before he sees you, but after a while of you dating he becomes more relaxed. He doesn’t eat in front of you though.

Spends a ton of time getting ready for the day, you may have to fight him for the bathroom

Compliments you a lot. He uses the basic one liners at his job with older, lonely, animals. So, he uses unique ones for you.

“I think the sun is jealous of your smile”

Totally lets your style his mane, and if you’re going out to somewhere not the black market, he’ll keep whatever style you give him. He’s confident and pulls anything off

Calls you Darling

Worst bedhead.

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NSFW Manage yourselves safely!

Ibuki

It was almost impossible to get him in bed with you. He’s so worried and full of anxiety. Any mood you get in, you instantly gets ruined by him being worried he’ll eat you

You’re going to have to plan in advance and spend a lot of time talking about safety and safe words

Honestly? He does try and eat you the first time. Not intentionally and he stops himself, but to be fair to HIM as an herbivore...you almost let him

It kind of ruins the mood and you end up talking it out with him. He’s so ashamed he can’t look at you for a while.

Once time goes by, and you move pretty slow, but it’s worth it. Sex with Ibuki is amazing

Remember how Ibuki is really diligent about your limitations and you as an herbivore? Pays OFF when he’s with you

He’s all about foreplay and making sure you are ready and prepared before he does anything. Ibuki has big dick energy. He doesn’t brag but is blessed. But he knows that with you being smaller than him, he’s not down to hurt you with it

He starts keeping his nails short for you. The other guys may try and tease him for it, but Ibuki gets defensive over you and so it’s short lived.

His voice drops when he’s in the mood, and he borderline growls. You’ve been teasing him all day, you really should make it up to him

Surprisingly good at dirty talk, it kind of comes naturally to him and neither of you know why

Loves your thighs, and his whiskers tickle.

He has big hands, and when you’re alone he may saunter up behind you and run them down your sides slowly, kissing your check and down your neck.

Best at aftercare, no matter how tired he is, he will take care of you

Free

Is more concerned than he lets on. He tries to pretend he’s all confidence, but he has a pretty hard time getting to the point of actually having sex with you. He actually start actively avoiding it. He blue balls himself. Someone help him.

He’s used to doing what comes natural, and what if what comes natural means hurting you? He’d rather not.

When you do finally try and have sex, he doesn’t kill you...but he does bite you. You need stitches, and he has even more of a complex (tell him he just gave you a cool tattoo or something)

He may actively avoid you or being near you. It’s a set back. He’s not like Ibuki who can talk it out, he’s supposed to be a lion, not a scaredy cat.

You have to put your foot down. You’re dating a bad ass mafia lion, not some nervous school boy. Remind him about how much you care about him and how much you want him.

The second time goes better, but he’s a LOT more careful. he does maim a few pillows, claws the mattress. Their sacrifice is appreciated. (you two become famous for ruining and destroying beds. The other guys are both impressed and disgusted. Free has no shame)

Trims his claws so he can use them the next time. He’s learning.

This male is a womanizer, but he’s not great at doing things that females would stay for? It’s more of a hit-it-and go. He knows some tricks but...not a lot.

Tries his best though. Loves to dig his hands in your hips. Leaves bruises. One time he got hammered and asked Ibuki for advice. Ibuki was helpful, but needed therapy afterwards.

Rough sex 90% of the time (that other 10 is passionate sex that lasts hours, it’s pretty impressive)

Once you guys get comfortable, hope you’re okay with bite marks and kiss marks. You’d have to wear winter clothing 24/7 to hide them all. He’s VERY proud of you being his female, he doesn’t want any other male getting ideas

Turns him on if you take control. Most things you do turns him on. He’s near insatiable. You could roll out of bed, eyes still squinty, mascara from last night all over, and he’s like..man, that’s hot. Hope you’re okay with having sex in weird places, he’s going to ask.

Not great at aftercare, but BOY can he snuggle. If you’re able to walk afterwards, you wont be able to. Clingy.

Dolph

Wants it to happen organically, but when it finally does, he catches himself.

He’s looking at you under him, how your eyes sparkle and shine, and how vulnerable you are...And the idea that he could rip out your throat comes to mind and it terrifies him. He practically throws himself off you

You have to reassure him and talk to him.

Dolph is careful with you the first time, and while he doesn’t bite you, he does dig his claws in a little to much. They may or may not scar. He feels bad, but he’s so in the moment he can’t help it

May drool a little. Don’t tease him until later.

He doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied. It’s a promise. You will NOT be able to walk the next day. He’s going to make the claw marks up to you if it kills you and wakes everyone in ear shot.

Out of all of the lions, you’re safest with Dolph. He’s ”the serious one”, which makes him practical and knowing. He actually does research and goes online to inform himself.

Love bites. He doesn’t break skin, so you’re safe there.

Loves it when you try and claw him. You can’t do a lot, as an herbivore, but the fact your instincts try and make you...really gets him going.

Casual at aftercare. Better than average but nothing near Ibuki or Agata.

Not a sex maniac, and with work, it’s not high on his priority list. He’ll make up for it though ;)

Agata

Likes to pretend it’s not something he’s interested in, but he is. He just doesn’t want to pressure you, or scare you. Dating a lion is one thing, being fully exposed is another and he knows it.

He thinks about it a lot, but doesn’t act on it. You probably will have to take the lead. Agata gets way to in his head.

The sweetest kisser ever, but when he’s heated they’re like fire. Biting your lip, you face carefully with his claws just teetering on the edge of digging in. He loves kissing you, doesn’t matter where.

Kissing will lead to other things if you don’t stop him, but do you really want to?

Likes to pull you close, and the more heated he gets the more likely he’s going to grind on you without realizing he’s doing it

Totally whines if you stop kissing him.

Younger than the rest of the Shishigumi, and is more prone to using his instincts. He eats meat and is afraid of hurting you, but his desire to fuck your brains out is far greater than the instinct to eat you

He does end up biting you, and uses his claws. The damage he does isn’t serious, but he still fuses over you when its over.

Takes a while to let himself near you like that again. He beats himself up. You may have to prove to him you’re tougher than you look.

When you try again, he makes up for his shortcomings. You’re not sleeping tonight, call in sick to work tomorrow.

You may have to ask him to slow down. He intends to go all night, you may have to curb his enthusiasm. Don’t forget to take breaks for water so you don’t pass out.

Wont stop until you’re satisfied. Doesn’t matter how tired he is.

Sweet nothings in your ear non stop...between the moaning. He’s surprisingly vocal

Talk to him too. Part of the reason he cares so much about you is because you see him for who he is, not his status as a lion.

Since he doesn’t plan having sex with you, and just lets it happen naturally, he always has things in his room for you. Just in case. Please don’t tease him about it, the other lions do that enough.

Is totally the kind of guy to help you bathe afterwards if you want.

One of the biggest snugglebugs

Miguel

Miguel is worried about having sex with you, but no one knows it but him.

He’s the brawn of the group, and is strong as hell. He may end up trying to show off and you may end up in positions when you have to totally vulnerable (if it makes you uncomfortable, he’ll adjust. Just talk to him)

Muscles for days. The lion is made of stone, but has surprisingly soft touches. He knows his body and knows how to use it

He’s never had sex with an herbivore, he’s thought about it, but having sex with something he may eat later didn’t sit well with him. You are a different story. He’s thought about it a little to much

First time he has sex with you he claws you, and they’re pretty deep. You end up getting stitches. Unlike a lot of the other lions though, he doesn’t avoid you afterwards. He’s there when you get stitches, intimidating the doctor (who has a small heart attack every time Miguel moves)

Apologizes but isn’t afraid to try again. He trims his claws this time, you should really tell him the other things his fingers could be used for outside clawing your back.

Do not mess with his mane or pull it, he’ll get grumpy.

Loves your chest and carefully uses his tongue. Doesn’t matter what size they are, he’s a fan.

Not very vocal, but likes it when you are.

Sabu

Sabu is older and more controlled, so you’re pretty safe with him.

He doesn’t seem like he’s interested in it, and since he doesn’t talk much, him bringing it up comes out of no where.

“Wanna have sex?”

Just out of no where. He doesn’t talk much so he doesn’t beat around the bush. You were just scrolling on your phone, and you nearly drop it.

He doesn’t hurt you when you have sex, not even by accident, but the couch you were on gets shredded. It looks like an animal twice his size attacked it.

Runs his hands over your body, he can’t stop touching you.

Kiss his scars, it sooths him, and he’ll pay you back

Loves your neck, but is careful not to leave any marks (you have no idea how he doesn’t, it’s like magic)

He doesn’t care if you leave kiss marks on him

No great with aftercare, but will make sure you’re okay and kisses your cheeks and on top of your head

Jinma

Disaster. He doesn’t mean to be, he just is

He wants it to be perfect, but while he knows everything about the black market, he doesn’t know much about having sex with an herbivore. He never really though of it, and now that he is...help him. He knows rumors of herbivore and carnivore relationships that have gone wrong so...he kind of freezes up. That, and he hasn’t been in a lot of long term relationships.

While the others do their research, Jinma goes way to into it and becomes a bit overwhelmed, but hides it.

You end up having to take control. For someone who knows the black market like the back of his hand, Jinma is the student and you are the teacher. You’re an herbivore, and you’re going to show him just how much you know (you are the captain now)

He bites you, and he does break the skin, but he just closes his mouth and allows you to decide if you wanna continue or stop

He starts keeping a med kit in his room just in case.

He gets better, the more he learn and the more serious he is with you. Soon he’s compiling a book of knowledge on you.. He knows where to touch to make your toes curl, what to say, and your weak spots

He takes everything he learns and uses it against you one night. He’s a fast learner.

Dope

Part of negotiations is to know what a person wants and what they will go through to get it. So, when you bring it up, the look in your eyes is all it takes for him to know he needs to take you serious.

Usually his kisses are quick and satisfying, but once he actually starts to seriously kiss you its like it’s the last time he’s going to do it.

Likes to have you in his lap. Seeing your face is important to him. Every movement and actions of your body paints a picture of what you want.

Third best at foreplay, what drags him down is he watches you to the point that he forgets what he’s doing

When you first have sex, he ends up clawing your hips and biting your lip to hard. You lip bleeds a little and his nails break the skin. He’s a little worried, but if you don’t tell him to stop he’ll get permission to keep going.

Ends up also biting you, but nothing to terrible or life altering.

He loves watching you, body language tells a person a lot about someone, so no matter where or how, he likes seeing your face.

Afterwards, he makes sure you’re okay, and comfortable, He does the basics, but doesn’t go overboard

May leave a kiss mark or two, but it’s accidental. He doesn’t want to embarrass you (even if seeing you with kiss marks makes the animal in him deeply satisfied)

Hino

Hino knows a females body like no other. He’s not exactly promiscuous, but he likes being satisfied

Since dating you, he hasn’t been with any other females, he’s very needy. He’s not as bad as Free, but he’s getting there.

You have no idea how he seduces you every time, one moment you’re making tea, the next, you’re on the kitchen counter

The first time you try and have sex with him, he claws you way to hard and you end up having to get stitches and fixed up. He feels awful and can’t look you in the eye. He swears he will NEVER do it again

He never does, he keeps to his word

Unlike some of the other lions, the fact he hurt you doesn’t keep him away. He feels bad, but now he’s going to try twice as hard to make sure every time he has sex with you is amazing.

Wont stop until you’re satisfied, and just seems to naturally know your body and what you like.

While he’s composed in public, you get to see a little wild in his eyes when he fucks you. He has this low growl that rumbles through his chest that you feel deep in your body the tighter he holds you

Probably has had sex with you on most surfaces in your home.

Above average at aftercare. He tries, but having more one night stands than not hasn’t equipped him for great aftercare. He learns though.

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goddessofmischief · 3 years

Text

Blue Monday, Chapter Four - Loki x T.V.A.! Reader

Chapter Four... ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’

You almost wanted to step outside and freeze again. Better that, than to be faced with this - on your first-ever mission with a partner, no less. In a matter of hours, you had almost frozen to death. You had pretended to be a goddess - one that uncomfortably resembled you. And, worst of all, there was only one bed. Yeah. Really.

“We-ell,” you said, awkwardly, untangling your hand from Loki’s. Now that you were finally left alone, you didn’t have to keep pretending. But you did have to sleep somewhere.

“Let’s not pretend that this isn’t... difficult,” said Loki, “...Because it is. But don’t worry. I don’t share.”

You laughed. “Really? Kicking me out onto the floor, Odinson?”

“It would seem so. Alternatively, you can make peace with the fact that nothing is happening here, and allow it to be nothing.” “Oh, you think I’m the problem?”

“I truly do.”

“I’m the problem? Not the guy who pretended I was his wife though, right? There’s no way that maybe you’re the one who’s got some issue?” Loki crossed his arms, chuckling, and sat down on the bed. “If you’re implying that I feel anything for... a mortal like yourself, you’re wrong.” “Prove it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Prove it. Keep me warm.”

You cuddled up to him, and Loki sighed, covering you both up with a warm, woolen knit blanket. “You’re not really as warm as you thought I’d be,” you whispered, your breath hot against his freezing collarbone. “Loki, maybe you should take all the blanket-”

“I’m fine.”

He spoke like he didn’t want to go any further into the matter, so you didn’t push it. Simply closed your eyes, tried to breathe. “G’night.” Loki doesn’t respond. But you both fall asleep smiling. ... “Get up.”

You hadn’t woken up next to another person for forty years. And Loki was not making the experience any easier. Apparently, the God of Mischief is an early riser. “We lose light in four hours.”

“Don’t we want to lose light?” you muttered, yawning, rubbing at your eyes. “Well... yes. But we have to be at the fortress where they’re keeping the tesseract much before then. Remember, you don’t hold up in the cold, darling. We’ll need to make the trek before night falls.” “Which means...”

“Which means we leave now.”

Neither of you had changed out of your clothes, so you didn’t have to get ready. Loki looked as if he hardly needed sleep at all. You, however, felt like a mess. You were a mess. Your hair was untidy and unstyled, your skin still sore and red from the cold the night before. These things had never mattered to you before - really, they hadn’t. When you were at home, on Earth... even then. In the 1970s, most people weren’t wearing makeup, anyway. Most of them barely wore clothes.

You tugged your pant leg down, uncomfortably, attempting to ignore your appearance in the mirror. “You’re not honestly self conscious, are you?”

Jerk.

“No,” you said, smoothing down your jacket. “No, why would I feel self-conscious in front of a... well, whatever the hell you are.” “If you do, love, you shouldn’t.” Loki leaned back, seemingly pleased with himself. “You look...”

“Professional,” you interrupted, reaching over and brushing one of your stray hairs from his coat. “Professional, always.” ... The trek was actually kind of... nice.

Long, and exhausting. And filled with melting, slippery roads, still wet from the snow before. But nice. And shockingly silent, for a man who infamously loved to talk. But you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You liked Loki quiet. “Careful,” Loki said, reaching over to you, offering his hand to help you over a puddle. “I’m fine - oh!”

To the surprise of neither of you, you had slipped - and Loki had swept you off your feet, literally. “Are you going to carry me all the way, or-”

He unceremoniously dropped you. “Ow!” “I wouldn’t want to humiliate you, sweet.” “How considerate, darling.”

For the first time, you’d hurled one of his venomous compliments back at him - and it felt pretty damn good. He became completely stiff, still managing to walk, but no emotion or expression crossed his face. “You okay there, ‘Oki?”

He nodded, a little more quickly that most people would.

“Yes,” Loki said. “It’s just, that was spoken like-”

“Spoken like what?”

“Spoken like her,” he said. “And yet...”

...

Loki was continuing to make your existence a joyless one.

For one... you’d just arrived at the fortress.

A fortress Loki seemed to have no interest in helping you get into.

"Damn it!” you shouted, rushing up against the gates. “They’re... they’re locked.”

Loki was sensing your frustration. He knew it, and you knew it. And you could practically see the little gears turning in his mind. He was trying to wind you up, and you just wouldn’t let him.

“Just use your powers.”

“I don’t have any powers!”

You were on the edge. Loki was determined to make you fall off.

Well... not today.

“Alright,” you said, finally.

“Alright... Loki. You stay here. I’m going to go around the side.”

“What? Why?” He sounded panicked, and for all the wrong reasons.

You shrugged.

“They might have left it open. Or... maybe, there’s a key under the mat.”

“You must be joking.”

“You must know that I’m not.”

“Never mind that. I’ll use my powers, and... they’ll surely hand the Tesseract over when they see who is demanding it. You saw that town back there. Even if they’re not quite as zealous as the others, these people must adore me.”

“Or.... maybe not.”

“Come again?”

You gestured at a wooden sign, trying to contain your laughter.

Törvedalen.

Which, if the simple Norse you learned had not failed you, translated to the Valley of Thor.

“Maybe that’s why they took the tesseract from the other town,” you managed, gulping as you watched Loki’s briefly irritated, then furiously incensed expression. “Maybe... there’s a little bit of a war going on here, over who they like best. You gotta admit, Loki, that statue in town was pretty oversized.”

“It was exactly adequate - whose side are you on, anyway? Are you not my partner?”

You shrugged.

“I’m just trying to help.”

Loki saw your worried expression and softened, slightly, his hands unclenching.

“Alright,” he said. “So we’ll go in - together. I’ll talk to them. I’ll make them understand - and they’ll get exactly what they bargain for, one way or another.”

“Do I have to be Amora again?”

You sounded pathetic, admittedly - you felt pathetic.

Luckily for you, Loki shook his head. “No, love. Just be Y/N L/N. That should do it.”

...

“Hello!” called Loki, having strolled through the front gate - it turned out his magic was completely effective at undoing non-magical locks, and he could’ve opened the gate the whole time. He was just toying with you.

As usual.

“Hello!”

“Y’know,” you said, trying to keep your voice low, “Y’know, we don’t really have to shout, if we stay quiet we might be able to get the tesseract and sneak-”

“Don’t pester me. I could use a little Amora right now.”

Well, that stung.

“Well, she isn’t in,” you muttered, holding a dimly lit torch up to another sign. “She’s not here. She’s not even real.”

“Really, this again, darling? You’ve forgotten so easily the art we saw in the village. That didn't look real to you? Would you prefer, perhaps, a larger painting?”

“That doesn’t mean anything, and you know it. How do I know you’re not just screwing with me? You trick people. It’s sort of... what you do.”

You knew you were being mean - well, mean for you. He was your partner, shouldn’t you be kind and tolerate his little... eccentricities?

Then again, Loki was sort of wrecking you, mentally. The last time someone did that... you’d just let it happen.

Well. Not this time.

“Guilty,” Loki admitted, his voice lowering. It wasn’t threatening, instead, it was actually sort of... nice?

Kind of nice. Almost sweet.

“But this isn’t a trick, I’ll promise you that. It means just as much to me that I learn to understand this - because for once, I know as much as you do, love. So it's up to us. To figure it out, together-”

Just then, a group of Nordic warriors stormed in.

Holding axes.

“They’re holding axes,” you whispered, tugging on Loki’s sleeve. “Loki, they’re-”

“I noticed - gentlemen, what can we do for you?” He repeated the last sentence again, this time in Old Norse.

The group shouted something back at him.

“What’d they say?”

“Something about 'a light cube.’ Our light cube, I presume, unless there happen to be others.”

“Ask them if they can give it to us.”

“Sweet, you have to know they won’t.”

But he translated your request, all the same.

“He said that they can’t,” said Loki. “Because... of their leader?”

“Do you know who leads them? Is it Thor?”

“No... this is... an alternate Earth. It wouldn’t be my Thor... it could be someone else...”

“Tell them to take us to the leader.”

“My, aren't you bold? What makes you think this leader won't just kill us?”

“I don’t know! But it’s worth a try, yeah?”

Loki rolled his eyes, attempting to translate again, and one of the Vikings responded.

“They’ve agreed. To take us to... who is it, again?”

The Viking shouted something out, and Loki’s face paled.

"What did he say?”

“He said,” said Loki, clearing his throat, “That... he’d bring us to the leader. Their leader, the new ruler of Törvedalen ... Lady Loki.”

Taglist: gorgeourrific-nerd @suwupremeleader @sserpente @tripleyeeet

#loki #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#blue monday #blue monday a loki story #jules writes #blue monday masterlist #loki blue monday #blue monday by jules #loki x amora #lady loki #tva #time variance authority #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #loki x reader angst

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legionofpotatoes · 3 years

Note

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

#anon #asks #long post #sorry I cant actually condense ideas better :(

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years

Note

hey hey hey 📝

Hey you 🥰 Let me tell you straight away there's more than one because I'm a sucker for your fics and I will absolutely read all the one I haven't read yet because I just know they're good. I just know it. Same, my absolute favorite is in blue! 💙

@murdertoothpick

________

young volcanoes

Of course I love this one, Fives' fic AND Fall Out Boy?? I knew you would come up with something awesome but this... This is absolutely wonderful.

I just love the delight, the comfort in knowing that the war is over, and there will be no more fight to the death for the clones. For these men who will finally do something else than die; they will finally live.

It's not until Echo nudged him that Fives sees you approach the ramp with quick feet, colliding into him with a force so strong that he stumbles back a little, and yet, it's the most grounded he's felt in a long time.

Again, I screamed a very real scream when I read that. It's sad; but also beautiful, to be the one person that grounds him and offers him enough comfort and care and that feeling of safety-

'Don't ever let me go,' you press into him, and the way he squeezes you just a little tighter makes you melt.

It does make me melt. I am a puddle. This quote alone cured my anxiety. No but; for real; I just love these silent moments. I am very vocal about my emotions and feelings for the people I care about; but sometimes words aren't enough, or argent quite right so we turn to these silent exchanges - a look, a pression, a touch - something to let you know it's okay. I love that.

Fives meets Jesse with a proud grin, his hold on you relenting except for the one arm he keeps around your waist. 'Not tonight vod,' he breathes, meeting your eyes as you turn to face his brother, 'I'm going home.'

And Fives' words repeat softly in your head. He's going home. […]

That home is wherever the other is. It is the one thing that perseveres beyond the war. It is the one constant Fives' has ever had the choice to have, the one thing you'd never give up for anything.

This. This is it.

Being someone's home is so personal and meaningful. The trust, the care, the feeling of safety- everything that comes with the fact that you are someone's home.

And for it to be a constant in a life and a galaxy where everything keeps changing?? It's the same energy as Ari's fic It's been a long, long time.

It's comforting, and it gives me hope. This is the essence of Star Wars - hope - and you depicted it so perfectly.

I am honestly amazed and in love with this fic. (And Fives.)

at least, percentage wise

This one was a bit painful but also tender; let me explain.

'Hunter sold me as a droid today.'

He continues, 'I know he doesn't think of me like that but...it was hard enough being treated as a clone and now...I don't know what I even am.'

This. Is very painful.

I absutely love Echo, right. I adore him, he's awesome and handsome and kind and funny and he's Echo.

Yet he doesn't know that. He doesn't know who he is anymore- "what" he is.

What. That's so painfully sad. Like I said clones are already caught in this sort of identity crisis because what are they? Clones? Soldiers? Men? Brothers? Humans?

And now. Now Echo isn't even sure he fits the last category anymore. And it honestly pains me when people call him "android" or "droid man" because he already feels so self-conscious about this. And yes- he has prosthetics and robotics implants- but never should he be considered less of a human because of them. He's still Echo. He's still human.

He changed, but he's still Echo.

His next words are whispered, afraid of receiving an answer. 'Tell me you'd love me more if I weren't...' the words catch in his throat, 'this.'

And this is the moment where I tear up because.

This.

I can hear it. I can hear the pain and the fear in his voice and it honestly breaks. My heart.

How deeply rooted is his self-consciousness? How deep does the self-hatred run for him to think so little of himself??

I hate it here it just makes me so angry and sad for him.

My handsome boy deserves BETTER.

'You handsome man,' you jest, blessing him with a short kiss on the lips. 'You ready to sleep now?.'

I love this because I always call Echo "my handsome boy" or "handsome boy" and that's 1. Because he IS handsome like have you seen the man?? And 2. Because I believe if he hears it all the time he will slowly but surely believe it. He will accept that he's handsome and maybe feel less self- conscious about his body and himself...

I just need him to feel loved and beautiful because he is.

And I mean... Soft. Domestic. "You ready to sleep now?" is something you tell to someone in such a casual yet caring way and I am absolutely here for it.

This fic is just- I would react the same way reader did. It's so obvious to me he's absolutely trustworthy and nice and smart and handsome- he's filled with qualities and so many reasons to love him and care for him.

I mean- Echo. He alone is a valid argument.

Anyway, this fic just has me feeling much love for Echo and you made me fall for him again;;

push and pull

'Tsk, why won't you do what I say?'

I read that in his voice every. Single. Time. That's just- so him. 100% pure Crosshair content here.

And "the little umbrella" thing? Tech's remark on the food?

These little funny moments are so soft and a nice contrast to the sometimes sad undertone of the fic! I love that!

'I...like being close to you.'

'It's hard enough letting you in. I don't want my brothers thinking I've gone...soft.'

This. This is also very Crosshair. He's not very vocal, and to see him struggle a bit to confess what's really going on and feel awkward and embarrassed about it is just-

Great. In a sweet way. And the way you write him so well, so accurately-

Yes. 100% yes.

somewhere only we know

Alright. This fic right here is, I believe, the first one I read from you. At least it marked me enough for me to remember it as the first one.

Anna. This fic right here is. You made me cry. You had me crying while reading it because it's just.

The song alone is already- you know, very bittersweet and nostalgic in a way; and you managed to write something so perfect it's- it's not the fic matching the song. It's the song matching the fic.

I read it again to write this review - with the song on loop obviously - and I got tears again. It's just that powerful.

But your anxiety melts away as he gives you a slight smile, offering his hand to you, 'You'll have to lead the way.' […] He would always trust you, he has never felt otherwise.

I can't even explain how meaningful that it. It means so much to him, and he knows; and you do too. There's a level of trust and intimacy here.

'Just...hold me.'

Don't ask me why, but reader saying this is low-key making me emotional.

'Do you want this?', he murmurs, […].

You take an agonisingly long time to reply, your eyes flit between his, searching for any sign of hesitation, or regret. But you don't find any, as much as Crosshair is good at hiding his emotions behind an impassive and collected facade, you see the silent plea in his eyes, a longing for more.

Tears. Very real tears. The care and respect and trust and love this question alone holds. It's just. So delicate and soft, I just-

And then-

'Are you sure?' he whispers, so close to you, basking in this intimacy.

Girl if you wanted to make me cry you just had to say it, right? Like, don't mind me I'm a sucker for this; being so intimate and respectful of your partner that's like- everything.

Honestly that's what everyone deserves.

He lets out a light laugh, it's beautiful, reverberating deep in your heart, a sound so rare that you try hard to commit it—and the way he looks—to memory.

I promise you...

The candlelight surrounds your face in a halo-like glow like you were sent from heaven. It's a blessing.

...you hold my heart. This is poetry. This is art. This is comforting and lovely. And I am tearing up once again.

Your next words are meek, whispered, hidden away from the outside world, but you bare your soul to him anyways.

You almost don't hear it, but the way the words vibrate against your skin as he spills himself inside you makes it impossible for them not to be heard.

You wrote the words; but honestly I didn't even needed to read them to cry. It's just so vulnerable. They are both in a situation were they are literally and metaphorically naked, and there's nothing else but them - everything else fades away without them noticing and it's just.

Them.

And they allow themselves to be so vulnerable, finally, after all the build-up and the obstacles of the war and the downfall of the galaxy and the chip. After loosing each other and finding their way back to each other.

And finally allowing themselves to be so vulerable, so exposed to each other-

Brb gotta cry some more.

He takes one of your hands in his, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. 'Just getting you a cloth Cya'rika.'

Your mouth opens in an Oh, and you gingerly nod at him. 'Okay, sorry,' you give him the most beautiful smiles he's ever seen, and there's a part of him that has changed its mind about leaving you even for a second.

I can't even. Explain. How sweet this is. No words can express what I'm feeling as I read this. The comfort. The reassuring tone. The f**king Mando'a nickname.

Your arms open pathetically when he lets go of you, an invite for him to join you under the covers. But he looks at you in pure adoration, a sight that's so peaceful, so domestic, that he finds himself letting his mind wander, imagining that this temporary room was a home, a place where he could spend the rest of his days with you, away from war and the empire.

My heart is aching. A lot. It's so peaceful yet so tragic in a way, but they don't see that. Again, it's just them; this moment of intimacy, of domestic life where nothing else matter but what they are sharing right now.

Somewhere only we know.

alone together

This fic is awesome. I love the dynamic between reader and Crosshair, there's this very obvious alchemy between them and you manage to write about it with limited dialogue and amazing descriptions. I am absolutely in awe.

Also- Confident Reader? Love that! Especially in a Crosshair fic! And it's great because we also see a glimpse of Crosshair having self-esteem issues, so there's a sort of shift where for once Crosshair doesn't have the "upper hand" and reader isn't all shy and flustered you know (though I absolutely love these kind of fics too!)

But yeah- their dynamic was really interesting!

heartbeat

Another Crosshair fic because I love him and you really write him so well and in-character.

'I like...hearing your heartbeat.'

This little hesitation is everything. And it's so... So personal and delicate.

Someone's heartbeat. That's life pulsing through their body. That's very symbolic too; we usually link strong feelings like love and care to the heart, and to lay there with someone and enjoy listening to that life pulsing-

Yeah I'm getting soft again

'I'm not moving,' he grumbles, pressing himself further into you and sighing in relief.

This is so lovely; him holding on tighter because he doesn't want to move, because he feels good here and that's the best way he found to let you know...

I just love your takes on Soft!Crosshair, you really know what you're writing about.

hands meet

I tried to draw Hunter. With the sunglasses and the shirt and him trying to be cool.

I shall do that drawing again because it's absolutely HILARIOUS and I just adore this fic because it's so light-hearted and sweet and funny!

It's a feel-good fic, the one you read when you need to clear your head a bit; and I promise you the laugh I had reading it!

And I just love the dynamic between Hunter and reader; it's awkward yet there's a lot of alchemy and you just know they do like each other a lot and are just struggling to express it directly.

That's very sweet and I love that.

Love it.

________

So yeah! Again, it was longer than expected but I am not sorry because you deserve to know how much I love these fics and how you also hold my heart in your hands with these.

You're an amazing - incredible - writer and I love how you bring these very human and realistic elements to your stories. It just makes them even more relatable and enjoyable, even if sometimes it's painful, and that's what I love so much about your writing.

Also I absolutely love how you incorporate lyrics between in your writings

Anyway- love u Anna, love your writing, you're amazing!!

#anna 💗#you really came here for real business #making my knees weak half of the time #and my heart bleed the other half #and I will come back for more because you're just SO TALENTED AND SKILLED #I'm so happy I follow you and got into your stories like-#so happy it's so worth it #ur awesome I promise you #mesa answers #sw fic rec #fic recs #star wars fic #sw fics #star wars

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ayyyez · 4 years

Note

Could you do hc on Tobirama and s/o (she would be the younger sister of Madara and Izuna) on an arranged marriage to make peace and to make his brother's village dream true? SFW and/or NSFW

a/n: Heeeeeell yeh you can! Alright Tobirama hoes who love Uchiha!Readers come get ya’ll juice! Thanks for the request friendo! (hope it was worth the wait omg I’m finally getting these requests down) sorry these are so damn long I didn’t make it to the nsfw lol next time I promise! warnings: ahh little angst didn’t make it to nsfw

-Tobirama is entirely indifferent to marriage. For him it’s something to create alliances and project the strength of the village. It makes no difference to him whether you are an Uchiha or not. Low-key will keep an eye on you but other than that it’s much of a muchness for him.

-Let’s say it’s canon compliant and Tobirama killed Izuna well that makes things complicated but you try your best to no outright hate him. You have seen your fair share of war and it also ripped your family apart. All you have left is Madara and even he is left a broken husk of a man. So you decide to sacrifice your own self for the dream and light you brother once held. You agree to marry Tobirama.

-On some level you hope Tobirama sees things the same way and that he will make an effort to be kind. You knew it wouldn’t bring back your brother but it would make the marriage less insufferable. But Tobirama isn’t that sort of man, he will either say what he thinks or nothing at all. Niceties don’t come naturally to him and it’s foolish to expect them.

-When the talks for marriage first happen it’s a sit down between Hashirama and Tobirama across from yourself and Madara along with the new Uchiha leader for good measure. You knew he was nothing more than a prop, a gesture of good will to show the Senju that your clan had changed. Hell, if you didn’t have to marry in order to add security then you would be the leader. Fate was certainly laughing in your face.

-It wasn’t long before Madara blew up at Tobirama and the two were duelling a battle of the wits. Normally, Hashirama would step in to mediate but before he could utter a word you slammed your fist against the table startling everyone.

‘Might I say a word toward my own marriage proposal?’ You said, not bothering to hold the air of formalities since your brother already broke them.

‘Of course.’ Hashirama replied.

-You looked between them. Tobirama looked shocked and honestly it was the first time you had seen much emotion etched on his face. Were it under any other circumstances you would have laughed but you were frustrated.

‘Whatever the terms you wish you put forward,’ you took a deep breath, ‘I’ll do it. I’ll marry Tobirama Senju.’

Quite possibly the most regrettable words to ever come from your mouth but your options were taken from you.

Madara called your name. ‘You can’t possibly consider actually agreeing to-’

‘I just did.’ You looked around at each other their stunned expressions. ‘If this is what keeps people safe, what keeps peace then I’ll do it. That is why we are here, right?’

-And that was how you signed yourself over to a Senju, the clan you were pitted against from infancy. Still it was worth it enough just to rile each of them up and remind them that you were no pawn to be trifled with. If you were to play then you would be a key player. As you should have been as the leader.

-The ceremony was simple but with a large gathering expected of both an Uchiha and a Senju. But honestly it seemed everyone was enjoying the day more than the actual couple. You noted that there was nothing unusual about that. Marriage even before peacetime always hinged on power and passing on abilities. Your own mother coupled with your father for the strength of the clan.

-It was when you entered your new home, left alone with the man you now called you husband that you realised the reality of the situation. There was no going back now. You laughed to yourself as you looked out the window, realising the ridiculousness of the situation. ‘Sorry, Izuna.’ You whispered as you retreated to the bathroom to bathe.

-You had become so numb that you barely felt the heat of the bath water against your skin. The steam cloaked around you like a defensive bubble as you scrubbed your skin. Maybe you would wake up and everything would be a dream? No, that wasn’t the cruel world you knew.

-When you walked into the bedroom Tobirama was sitting at the end of the bed, staring at something on the wall and deep in thought. You didn’t bother speaking to him as you climbed into bed and beneath the covers. It wasn’t a marriage built out of mutual affection so why bother acting like it? You turned away from him and willed sleep to take you.

-Tobirama spent a few moments in the same position before he eventually shut out the light and climbed into bed beside you. He didn’t bother speaking to you either. It was one of the most restless nights for the pair of you and you never knew how much of a void there could be between someone so close beside you.

-When the morning light shinned in through the window and the situation didn’t dissolve you knew this was your life now. The two of you lying there, on your backs in silence.

‘I wondered what kind of man you were,’ you began, bluntly, ‘a killer sure but we are all killers.’ You swallowed. ‘What I didn’t know was whether or not you were the sort of man to force someone to do something against their will in order to secure this arrangement.’

‘You are not one to be forced and I am not one to force such things when they are not wanted.’ Tobirama said, flatly. ‘So let us leave it at that.’ He climbed out of bed and left the room.

-A smile came to your face. Should you be at least be happy your new husband didn’t have violent delights in that respect? You could hear Izuna mocking you in your head. Kami if he could see you now he would never believe it. With a groan you got out of bed and contented yourself with making breakfast.

-The days passed by the same way. You and Tobirama spoke no more than a sentence to each other. You filled your days with errands, seeing old clan members and training your abilities. Possessing the sharingan was a precarious thing if you didn’t continue to train it. Sometimes you fantasised about over powering Tobirama in battle. You imagined the shocked look on his face.

-The days bled into weeks and you were growing bored of life. There was only so much to keep you busy and you were going to lose your mind. That was when you walked by the newly established academy, watching the kids run in the field and an idea struck you. You could pass on your knowledge to the next generation and do something useful besides being someones wife while they ran the village.

-There at the academy you found your new lifes purpose teaching the children of the new generation. It was challenging but also incredibly rewarding. Knowing these kids weren’t sent off into battle to watch people die was something that kept you going. Something you would fight to keep that way.

-This new found light gave you hope. Maybe you could help achieve you brothers original dream after all and do Izuna’s memory proud? Perhaps all the of this wasn’t for nothing.

-The new found joy began to light up your hope in home life as well. You began to converse more with Tobirama. It started with business talk. Enquiring about the academy and sharing your ideas. In turn he gave you his honest opinion, shutting down ideas that wouldn’t work but adding onto those that did. It was almost as though the two of you began respecting each other.

-Tobirama was not blind to the shift too. He saw this as an opportunity to strengthen your marriage which was always so strained. He made it a point (although he would never tell you or anyone) to set aside time to work on plans for the academy. He would charge you with testing out ideas and plans and trusted your feedback on the matter.

-He began visiting the academy more, speaking to you more and it wasn’t long before the two of you actually got along. It was nothing deep but it was so much more than it was before. It made you think that this could work. This could be a liveable life.

-During the nights you noticed the distance between you and Tobirama wasn’t so vast like the empty void it was before. In fact, you could swear that physically he was closer to you as well. You wondered whether it was conscious or not but either way you didn’t mind.

-When the two of you were home you would spend hours talking about the possibilities for the village. You talked about the children and your hopes for their future. He in turn explained how that could incorporate in everyday life of the village and create more opportunities for people. It was stimulating and it was nice. You felt yourself drawn closer.

-But then the anniversary of Izuna’s death hit you like ice water. You woke up with a feeling that something was wrong and then Madara came to see you. That’s when you remembered and with that came the memory of who killed him. You felt guilty for entertaining the thought of enjoying the company of the man who killed your brother.

-That day you spent with Madara, talking about the past and your family. With that came soul crushing pain but you didn’t cry. You had wasted all your tears years ago. You weren’t even sure you could cry anymore. Just like you could never see Izuna again.

-That night you got home late. Tobirama inquired to your whereabouts but you ignored him. Once you reached the doorway of the hall he called out to you again.

‘What are you doing?’

You stopped your hand curling over the frame.

‘It’s the anniversary of Izuna’s death,’ you said without turning back, ‘and I’m going to bathe.’

-You couldn’t look at him so you kept walking. He didn’t say anything after that either. After your bath you went to bed and he followed behind. You didn’t talk like you usually did, you didn’t even look at each other. And suddenly the void was back and you felt further away from him than you did in the beginning. It hurt more than you could bear.

-The two of you grew apart after that. There were no more late night conversations or sharing ideas. He didn’t visit you at the academy anymore. When you came home you could look at him again but you didn’t say anything.

-Tobirama was entirely aware of the change. He didn’t enjoy it but he wouldn’t accept full responsibility either. You knew he had killed Izuna when you entered the marriage so why was it different now? Deep down he knew why. The circumstances of your feelings for one another had changed substantially. But he would not feel guilty of something he had done in the past. Yes he had killed Izuna but honestly, if he hadn’t then it was likely Izuna would have killed him. They were at war after all.

-Still, he did not enjoy that that fact was the reason for the shift between the two of you. However he would not move to remedy it either. It just wasn’t in him when he didn’t feel responsible. Well, that and he was stubborn. But perhaps he cared more than he would ever admit.

-As the weeks moved on you didn’t feel such a heaviness weighing over your heart anymore. You would never truly be over Izuna’s death but you didn’t want that to weigh over your relationship anymore. You wanted it to be light again, liveable.

-But when you got home you couldn’t bring yourself to say as much. You looked at him intently and when his eyes met yours you held their gaze. But still you couldn’t say the words. He seemed unbothered by this, glancing over at you ever so often through dinner.

-By the time you were in bed you contented yourself by promising to fix the void. And you lied awake thinking everything over, feeling angry, sad and confused all at once. You went through each emotion over and over until something moved next to you and broke your thoughts.

-The next thing you knew Tobirama was pressed against you back, his arms wrapped around you and clinging. At first you held your breath wondering what on earth was going on. But then you realised he was asleep and it made a little more sense. You had heard him roll in his sleep before but he had never clung to you like this. And suddenly all the sadness and anger inside you disappeared and you wanted to just savour this moment.

-Taking a deep breath you turned in his hold to face him. You could barely see in the dark so you activated your sharingan. Then you saw his expression a lot softer in sleep than it did when he was awake. He looked so different, like the weight of the world no longer sat on his shoulders. And as you sharingan eyes shone through the night you imprinted his face on your mind, making a note to lock it away forever.

-Then you sighed and closed your eyes willing sleep to take you. And it finally did, allowing you to get the rest you had been without for weeks.

-In the morning you awoke, keeping your eyes closed as you felt Tobirama stir beside you. You felt him tense, as if he realised the position the two of you were in. He went to move but you reached out to stop him and he tensed again. This was uncharted territory between the two of you.

‘Let’s just stay like this for a little while.’ You mumbled, pressing toward him.

You felt his arms relax a little as they ease back around you.

‘I didn’t know you were a clingy sleeper.’

‘It’s not a fact I share easily.’ He grumbled.

-You smiled, the first real smile in weeks. And then you opened your eyes, blinking them as they focused. In front of you was Tobirama, staring at you curiously but with no other discernible expression. You knew it wanted to ask what had changed between you two, why you were suddenly acting this was but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want your wrath to complicate things.

-You sighed.

‘I’m not ever going to be able to forgive you for Izuna,’ you said, swallowing audibly. ‘But I won’t allow my feelings on the matter get between whatever this is anymore.’ Your eyes met his. ‘Are those terms agreeable?’

Tobirama looked at you, studying your expression for a moment.

‘Yes, that is agreeable.’ He said, softly.

‘Good.’ You whispered.

-The two of you laid there for a few moments, looking at each other, wondering where the two fo you would go from there. But then you decided that you weren’t the type of person to half heart anything.

-With another sigh you leant forward, inching ever so closely until your lips touched his. The kiss was light for a moment, testing the waters until you pressed them closer, more firmly, cementing that you wanted to try this. And Tobirama kissed you back, his hands pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours. And finally you were able to accept your marriage to Tobirama Senju.

#request #tobirama #tobirama senju. arranged marriage #tobirama/reader #tobiramaxreader #reader #Uchiha!reader #hate to love #wow i'm actually digging these #nart shippuden #founders #chinchilasarereallysoft #Ask

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lulu-zodiac · 3 years

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Written for @galaxycastiel and @jellydeans Destiel December 2020 challenge!

Day 3: Presents

Title: You’ll Know All I Haven’t Said (Ao3 link)

Summary: Cas has always had an unnerving knack for knowing what Dean wants the most, even before Dean knows it himself.

Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, High School AU, Friends to Lovers

A/N: okay so I'd intended this as a short drabble, but here we are instead with a 2,500 word fluffy high school au fic that honestly cheered me up so much to write. I hope you enjoy it - this is my first entry and I’m pretty nervous about posting so any feedback would honestly make my day <3 And if anyone wants to be added to a tag list for my fics for this challenge let me know!

Title from Pablo Neruda: "In one kiss, you'll know all I haven't said."

Cas always gives the best presents. Dean knows it’s something to do with his unnervingly observant nature, the way he’s just so tuned into the people around him. Or maybe just Dean. The thought makes something unfurl in Dean’s stomach that’s feels a bit like fear, or anticipation maybe. It happens a lot when he thinks of Cas, these days. Which is a lot, if Dean is being totally honest. Cas is his best friend, has been since they were both eight years old, so it’s normal that he occupies a lot of space in Dean’s head. It’s just that these days – sometimes it’s so much that it scares Dean, just a little. Because he knows there isn’t much time left where Cas will be a daily fixture of his life; next fall, they’re both heading off to college and everything’s going to be different.

That’s why, Dean tells himself, he’s spent so much time trying to think of what to give Cas this Christmas. It’s hard to top Cas’s gift-giving skills. He has always had an unnerving knack for somehow knowing exactly what Dean wants, even before Dean knows it himself. Not that Dean would tell him, but all his most treasured gifts over the years have been from Cas. A wonky, handmade wooden impala car Cas made in his Dad’s workshop when he was twelve. Zeppelin concert tickets the Christmas they were both fifteen. Last year, an anthology of Neruda with Cas’s scrawling writing on the opening page, which Dean has read more than the poems the book contains (not that he’d admit that to Cas).

The only problem with Cas being so amazing at choosing gifts is that Dean always feels under pressure to match Cas’s presents, give him something that he’ll treasure as much as Dean treasures the gifts Cas gives him. And the thing is, Cas is hard to buy for, hard to read, a lot of the time. Even though Dean spends more time with Cas than anyone else, and spends even more time thinking about Cas, he’s never quite sure what’s going on in his head. And that makes it difficult, because Dean so wants to make this last Christmas before they both go their separate ways special.

The thought of not being around Cas every day makes his whole chest ache, so Dean tries not to do it. But sometimes it just creeps up on him and it’s like having a bucket of ice water poured over him, a constant knife in his chest that twists deeper and deeper as it gets closer to the time he knows they’ll have to say goodbye. It’s not just about parting ways – Dean knows there’s no way he and Cas won’t stay best friends. But it's like there's also something that Dean's always been waiting for that might not get to happen, that graduating and leaving for college might get in the way of, and even though Dean has no idea what it is he’s waiting for, the idea that it might get pushed aside, might never happen, is somehow unbearable.

Anyway, after a week of agonising over options, it’s Christmas Eve and Dean is standing on Cas’s doorstep, breath clouding out in front of him in the frosty air. There’s small parcel in the pocket of his leather jacket that he fiddles with nervously as he waits, feeling the bumps of his own bad gift-wrapping skills. His stomach flips over inexplicably when the hall lights flicker on there’s the sound of keys in the lock.

“Dean,” Cas smiles, quiet but sincere, and stands back to let Dean in. Dean is hit, as he is not infrequently these days, by how good-looking Cas has become. He’s not built but he’s lean, strong-looking, with a kind of grace about the way he carries himself. Tonight, he’s wearing an indigo knitted sweater that he got in a thrift store with Dean last year, and it makes the blue of his gaze feel infinite as it sweeps over Dean, familiar and warm.

“Hey,” Dean smiles stupidly, suddenly feeling self-conscious as he steps into the hallway. It’s warm and smells faintly of incense and home-baking, but they don’t linger, heading straight up the stairs to Cas’s room as usual.

“Very festive,” Dean remarks as Cas closes the door behind them, noting the multi-coloured fairy lights Cas has strewn around the window, glowing softly and casting the room into muted colours. Dean secretly prefers Cas’s room to his; he’s spent so much time in it over the years that it feels just as much like home, maybe even a little more because it has Cas in it.

“Thanks,” Cas is standing by the door, arms folded across his chest as he watches Dean inspect his bookshelf, run his fingertip along the spines. “There’s a new one there for you, if you want it.” His expression is uncharacteristically unreadable. Not that Cas is easy to read – not by any stretch of the imagination. But Dean’s spent a long time mapping out his different expressions and mannerisms, and it’s not often these days that he’s faced with one he can’t place at all. This one is not unfamiliar, though. It’s one he’s noticed playing across Cas’s features increasingly often in recent months, generally when he glances up and catches Cas off guard. It’s an expression that niggles away at the back of Dean’s mind when he’s trying to get to sleep at night, gets under his skin.

Dean looks reluctantly away from Cas and back to the shelves, eyeing them more closely. His hand pauses on an unfamiliar hardback, Bluebeard by Vonnegut. “This?”

“If you want it,” Cas says, and Dean thinks he detects a note of apprehension beneath the warmth, a kind of distraction, as though he’s thinking about something else, which is a sharp contrast to his often unnerving focus that’s usually directed Dean’s way.

“Thanks,” Dean takes the book of the shelf and flips through the pages, catches a few flashes of Cas’s dextrous scrawl.

“Don’t – don’t read my notes now,” Cas crosses the room, takes the book from Dean’s hands and closes it. “Not when I’m here.”

Dean eyes him curiously. One of his favourite things about Cas lending him books all the time is getting to read Cas’s private thoughts filling the margins. “Is this my Christmas present? Not like you to forgo the fancy paper and the chance to upstage my gift-wrapping skills.”

A smile pulls at the corner of Cas’s mouth, his eyes crinkle with quiet amusement even though the nervousness doesn’t dissipate, Dean notes. “No, it’s not your present.”

“Then where is it?” Dean asks, glancing around the room – but there’s no sight of a gift. Just the soft glow of the fairy lights and Cas’s notebooks on his desk, a couple of jumpers hanging over the back of his chair, the little cactus Dean gave him for his birthday two years ago sitting stoutly on his bedside table.

“You’re very demanding,” Cas admonishes, handing the book back to Dean and crossing the room to sit down on one end of the window seat, curling up like a cat. There’s a twinkle of amusement in his blue gaze, but he pulls the sleeves of his jumper down over his hands, something Dean knows he only does when he’s nervous. The thought makes a pang of nerves curl through Dean too, although he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know why it feels like they’re waiting for something.

“Well, you’re very mysterious,” Dean counters, flopping down on the other end of the window-seat and pushing one of his socked feet playfully at Cas’s. “And unnervingly good at presents, which is why I’m so particularly demanding today. I’m expecting great things. How is that you always seem to know exactly what I want?”

“I very much hope that’s true this year,” Cas says, quiet in a way that makes Dean catch his breath, inexplicably nervous too. He’s looking down, still fiddling with the stray thread from the cuff of his jumper. His expression is uncharacteristically vulnerable in the soft light, messy dark hair and wide eyes so blue that they make Dean’s heart fumble a beat in his chest when Cas suddenly looks up, holds Dean’s gaze. It’s very quiet, the space between them. Dean feels very aware of his heart, doesn’t know why it’s suddenly going quite so fast. “You go first,” Cas says, low, eyes intent and full of something, and it takes Dean a moment to remember what they’re talking about.

“Oh – yeah, okay,” he stutters, feeling his cheeks flush as he fumbles in the pocket of his jacket and pulls out the package he’d wrapped earlier. “Look – don’t get too excited. You know I’m not great at presents, but I wanted to do something special, because you know –” he breaks off, trying to push down the sudden sharpness in his chest, “This might be the last Christmas we spend together, and I don’t want you to go forgetting me when you’re off being all genius at some school I’d never be able to get into.” He thrusts the present unceremoniously at Cas. “Badly wrapped as usual, sorry,” he adds, as an afterthought.

“Dean,” Cas is holding the wrapped present, but he’s not looking at it. He’s looking at Dean with the kind of familiar, earnest sincerity that makes Dean’s heart ache, that he’s going to miss so much. “There is no chance of me ever forgetting you,” Cas says slowly, and the something in his gaze deepens, turning into something that makes Dean feel simultaneously as though he wants to look away and never look away again. The space between them suddenly feels intimate, theirs. Just the two of them, the way Dean always aches for when it’s not.

“Thanks,” Dean says, gathering himself, but his voice sounds unsteady to his own ears, like he suddenly feels. Off-kilter, dizzy, like they’re both spinning into orbit. “Okay, okay, open the goddamn present already,” Dean mumbles, awkward, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Cas keeps looking at him like that, and he’s afraid of how much he wants to find out.

Cas looks at him a beat longer, before dropping his attention to the present, unwrapping it carefully with his long, dextrous fingers. There’s a moment when he pulls the leather-bound album out of the shell of wrapping where Dean feels hot all over, embarrassed by his own sentiment. He digs his nails into his palm, watches as Cas opens it and goes still, reading Dean’s inscription. There’s a long pause, and then he turns the first page, and then the next and the next, looking at the photos of him and Dean that Dean has collected from over the years: the two of them togged up in winter coats and red welly boots, making snow-angels in Dean’s back garden; Cas aged ten with a tearstained face, watching as Dean puts a band-aid on his grazed knee; both of them on their first day of middle school, Cas moody with pins all over his jacket and scruffy converse sneakers, Dean grinning with his letterman; Cas, windswept and smiling two summers ago, lying on a sandy beach and gazing up at Dean with that a hint of that something Dean can’t get out of his head now.

Cas finally looks up at him, eyes so blue it hurts to look at them. “Thank you, Dean,” his voice is slightly hoarse. “This –” he breaks off, swallows, turning the album over in his hands. “This must have taken you ages.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean mumbles gruffly, cheeks heating up. His heart is racing, and he wants to change the subject, take the focus away from how intimate the present suddenly feels now that Cas is holding all their memories in his hands. “Anyway, enough of that. I’m glad you like it, but you know I can’t handle chick flick moments. Come on, your turn. Where’s mine?”

The unreadable look is back on Cas’s face with more intensity, combined with something Dean definitely recognises as nervousness now. Cas’s chest is rising and falling more rapidly, eyes wider than usual, cheeks slightly flushed as he holds Dean’s gaze, almost like he’s steeling himself for something. “Okay,” he says, seemingly more to himself than to Dean. Okay, close your eyes.”

“What?” Dean blinks.

“Close them,” Cas says, with slightly more authority, but Dean can see the way Cas’s fingers are trembling where he’s still holding all of their memories, their whole friendship in his hands. Cas glances down at it unreadably, like it’s suddenly fragile, and then back at Dean. He swallows, repeats, “Dean,” quietly imploring.

Dean closes his eyes. Cas’s gaze and the fairy lights all fade into to soft shadow. Vision gone, Dean suddenly feels very aware of the proximity between them, the almost imperceptible warmth of Cas beside him, the way their thighs are pressed lightly together. Dean has a sudden urge to nudge his closer to Cas’s, to close all the gaps and feel how warm Cas really is. He breathes in, suddenly breathless, and is overwhelmed by the smell of Cas’s skin, familiar and musky, a hint of the patchouli incense he always burns when he’s working. The smell of home. Dean’s heart is suddenly racing so hard it hurts. “Cas?”

Cas is silent. There’s a pause that might be a single heartbeat or the whole last ten years, and then there’s warm, tentative pressure against Dean’s mouth. Cas’s lips, silken soft and hot, brushing tenderly, slowly, against his. Cas’s hands cupping his face, rough and warm and trembling, holding him still as the world spins away into nothing. Cas’s breath, gentle and unsteady against Dean’s mouth, punctuating the kiss.

Dean’s eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees is blue. Deep, exhilarating blue. Like the sky at that moment just between dusk and darkness. And then he’s drowning. He ducks forward and captures Cas’s mouth again with his, stomach somersaulting at the stifled sound Cas makes, like he thought Dean wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t want this. The heat unfurling deep Dean’s chest intensifies at the way Cas’s hands grab at the front of Dean’s shirt, clumsy and desperate, the way Cas shifts closer, all warmth. Cas’s mouth is hot and wet and perfect, tongue twining with Dean’s as they kiss, pressing so close together that their noses nudge together, that Dean’s not sure who’s heartbeat belongs to who anymore.

When they break apart for breath, Cas’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dark and shining. He’s so beautiful Dean aches with it.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas says, voice low and heavy in a way that makes arousal curl through Dean. His eyes are full of quiet happiness, and that something that Dean hasn’t been able to get out of his head for months. It’s wonderful to finally know what it is, to know that it is this. Dean feels like he’s floating.

“Merry Christmas,” Dean echoes, dazedly, and his voice sounds as rough as Cas’s. He shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “I told you that you always know what I want before I do,” he pauses, “Though, amazing as all the others were, I think this present might just top the list.” Dean is vaguely aware that he’s grinning giddily, heart still pounding.

“I wasn’t sure you’d like it,” Cas admits, looking down, and Dean catches a hint of the nervousness Cas was full of earlier, that makes sense now. Dean feels a rush of warmth for him at the courage it must have taken to cross that line, to take a whole ten years of friendship in his hands and do what Dean never had the courage for.

“Hey,” Dean reaches out, twines their hands together. It’s reassuring the way he can feel Cas trembling a bit too, reminding him they’re both in this together, it’s just the two of them, the way Dean likes it best. “Cas. It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” he says, honestly. Cas looks up and smiles at him, brighter than the lights above them, than anything Dean’s ever known – and Dean suddenly has to rethink his words, because Cas looking at him like that, so full of love and happiness, is better than anything Dean could ever have imagined.

#destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel au #destiel #Destiel December 2020 #destiel fic challenge #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #deancas #spn #spn fanfic #spn fandom #spn family #destiel december 2020

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maddie-grove · 4 years

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Little Book Review: Tam Lin

Author: Pamela Dean.

Publication Date: 1991.

Genre: Fantasy (maybe YA?).

Premise: In the early 1970s, Janet Carter enthusiastically begins attending Blackstock College, a small liberal arts school in rural Minnesota. Passionate about her English classes and happy to have made friends right off the bat, she nevertheless must deal with low-key problems, such as an annoying roommate, a not-quite-right boyfriend, and an unsettling advisor who really wants her to be a Classics major. Also, there may be ghosts and/or immortals on campus.

Thoughts: Almost every day when I was in middle school, I listened to the local oldies station, which often played the 1967 song “Sweet Soul Music” by Arthur Conley. For those who are unfamiliar, this song consists of Arthur Conley listing various 1960s R&B/soul artists, naming their more well-known songs, and complimenting them. (Sample lyric: “Spotlight on Sam and Dave now/oh, don’t they look great, y’all?/Singing ‘Hold On, I’m Coming’/oh, yeah/oh, yeah”) It’s a good song--the horns are amazing--but it mainly makes me want to listen to Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett, rather than appreciate the song for itself. I had a similar reaction to Tam Lin, which seems like it’s going to be a retelling of the Scottish border ballad set against the backdrop of the tumultuous 1970s, but is primarily about the joys of studying literature. I spent most of my time reading it going “oh, I should reread Marie de France,” rather than enjoying the story on its own merits.

Which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy the story at all. Janet’s low-stakes drama is engaging, and Dean captures the self-conscious semi-independence of a college student well. The (very) slow-burn friends-to-lovers romance between Janet and Thomas Lane, the Tam Lin equivalent, is cute. Yet it could’ve been so much more. Dean takes way too long to get to the romance; Thomas is just Janet’s mildly intriguing casual friend for the first three years of college (i.e., the first 75% of the book). The supernatural elements are downplayed for most of the story, then abruptly ramped up in the last few chapters so Dean can cover the events of the ballad. The villains are technically down with human sacrifice, which should make them feel threatening, but they just come across as faintly unpleasant. I was never convinced that anyone was in danger. Dean could’ve tightened the plot, foreshadowed the romance more, ramped up the tension re: the ghost and the villains, and still kept the juiciest parts of the story (which, kind of weirdly, are Janet’s unsatisfactory first romance and her brittle sort-of-friendship with her somewhat vapid roommate Tina).

It’s no The Perilous Gard, is what I’m saying. Or even Fire and Hemlock, which is less my taste but is admirably ambitious.

Hot Goodreads Take: I agree with the most common criticisms of this book--not enough “Tam Lin,” too much minutia about college life--but I was thrown by the reviewer who professed a blanket dislike of “cult classics,” citing The Rocky Horror Picture Show as the sole other example. Honestly, this book would’ve been better if it’d resembled The Rocky Horror Picture Show a little more. At least there’d be some tension.

#little book review #books #reading #tam lin #pamela dean

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werewolf-and-go-wild · 4 years

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part one: perfect | arthur x fem! reader

Pairing: Arthur x Fem! Reader

Summary: You find one of Arthur’s magazines and the aftermath is devastating.

Note: I... honestly have no idea what possessed me to do this? It is absolutely self indulgent. I hoped writing it would help me work through some of my own issues I’m dealing with at the moment. I’m not a very good writer-- but I have fun trying. I welcome constructive criticism but be gentle with me. GIF isn’t mine - credit to @loicnottets!

Warnings: jealousy, angst, future BDD, negative body image, low self esteem

You bit your bottom lip as you flipped through the magazine you had found. It hadn’t been your intention to snoop. No no, you had been cleaning and found the magazine underneath the bed you and Arthur now shared. Said man was at work currently and you had wanted to get some housework done while he was gone.

The glossy colored pages showed photographs of women, some dressed in lingerie and others fully nude, posing provocatively or engaging in sexual acts with men— and on certain pages with one another.

Initially, the discovery had made you giggle. Arthur was a man, after all. This kind of thing was nothing out of the ordinary. You weren’t naive enough to believe that just because he was in a relationship with you that he couldn’t find other people attractive or have needs that you weren’t always around to help with.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t stop the strange feeling that blossomed in your chest as you flipped to a page in the magazine that was dog-eared. Your eyes flitted across the photograph, taking in every detail of the woman.

She was quite stunning, there was no denying it. It was more than her flawless sun kissed skin and her to die for figure, though. There was an air of confidence she exuded. A teasing smile curved her lips and her eyes sparkled flirtatiously. Was this the kind of woman Arthur liked? Her beauty struck you, leaving you exasperated.

Your curiosity got the better of you when you saw other pages of the magazine had been bookmarked in a similar fashion and much to your dismay it was the same woman on every page.

Suddenly you felt very self conscious. Heat crept up the back of your neck and your heart was hammering away in your chest so rapidly you thought it might burst. Did Arthur wish you looked like her?

There was a lump in your throat, closing it and impeding your breathing. You felt a bitterness sinking in deep, not just towards the woman in the photographs but towards all the other women in the magazine as well. You felt ugly. You felt inferior. You felt unworthy. You swallowed the lump in your throat and felt your eyes burn with tears. Your heart sank.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed on the floor of the bedroom, clutching the magazine in your hands, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from her. Running a finger along the photograph, you traced the model’s eyebrows, lips, jaw, burning every single detail about her into your memory. She was perfect.

The sound of a key in the door, signaling Arthur’s return home broke you from your reverie. Quickly you closed the magazine and slid it back under the bed before standing up and straightening your clothes out.

“Sweetheart?” His voice filtered through the apartment. It was a happy voice and he sounded excited to see you.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before walking out of the bedroom to greet him. Arthur stood in the open doorway and threw his arms around you the moment you were within proximity. “I love that I get to come home and you’re here,” He pulled you close and smiled.

With one hand gripping his sweater, you buried your face into his chest, thankful for the chance to hide your expression from him fearing that it might betray the emotions you were wrestling with inside. You felt no jealousy, this was beyond that. This was something much more insidious.

Those haunting sparkling eyes and flirtatious smile flashed through your mind.

#arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker x reader #joker x you #idk #ahhhhhhhhh #idk idk idk #0 to 100 real quick #my soul is in this #tw: body image #lowkey regret #arthur fleck #joker #joaquin phoenix joker

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everwitch-magiks · 4 years

Text

dance with somebody (ch. 10)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 9

It could’ve been worse, Whiskey decides, as he finds himself trudging his way across the unsurprisingly crowded campus with Ford and Tango, on a mission to get to the murder Stop-n-Shop before the disposable cups are completely sold out. Really, it could’ve been so much worse.

They’ve already passed by more than three sets of Powerpuff girls, and Whiskey is pretty sure he could look in any direction and immediately spot at least one Alexander Hamilton. At least one. Among all the outrageously flashy costumes around them, the three of them actually look a little bit low-key despite their carefully coordinated ridiculousness. Which honestly suits Whiskey just fine. And thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother Ford and Tango at all – the two of them look kind of absurdly excited in their matching black cloaks and house scarves.

It’s actually pretty endearing.

“We’ve gotta get a group picture, later,” Whiskey says, surprising himself.

Ford turns towards him, beaming.

“I know, right? I’m so glad I finished knitting in time!”

“Totally,” Tango agrees enthusiastically. “Hey, do you really think the theatre club will really need these cloaks back? ‘Cause I could get used to this.”

“So sorry, Weasley, but Chanelle will murder me if I don’t have them back by Monday.”

“Chanelle, huh? D’you think she’s the culprit behind the ol’ Stop-n-Shop murder?”

“I mean, if someone ever spoke to her before her second cup of coffee in the morning? Probably.”

After zig-zagging between two separate teams of superheroes trying to herd one another in place for a picture, they finally get to Stop-n-Shop. At once, Ford’s expression turns serious.

“Okay. Ready?”

“When you are,” Tango says gravely. “Let’s just hope at least one of us makes it back out alive.”

They get into formation, and slowly elbow their way inside the shop.

It’s packed, literally packed. Whiskey carefully steps between Tinker Bell and Gandalf as he heads towards the back of the shop, just as planned. A look over his shoulder tells him Tango’s already made his way over to the registers and is trying to figure out where the line ends, so he can get in it and hold a spot for them. He can’t even see Ford anymore, but he’s sure she’s doing everything she can to get over to the section for kitchen essentials, where it’s most likely they’ll actually find what they’re looking for.

Whiskey turns around again, and resolutely keeps making his way towards the back. There’s a shelf around there that has office supplies, and a selection of scented candles, and sometimes seasonal wrapping paper. There’s a slight chance there’ll be some kind of cups or mugs around there, too. Obviously, they’ve got to exhaust every option.

It’s for the good of the Halloween kegster.

Unfortunately, the store is no less crowded near the back. Whiskey has just carefully avoided colliding with a pair of Power Rangers when he finds himself walking right into a guy in a unicorn onesie, instead.

“Shit – sorry, I’m so sorry.” Whiskey steps backwards, only there’s a shelf behind him, so it doesn’t really help very much. “Didn’t see you there, I was-”

The guy looks up. Whiskey falls silent.

It’s Miguel.

Intro to statistics, Wednesdays and Fridays.

“Oh,” Whiskey says awkwardly, only to immediately realize that doesn’t even make sense. “I mean, hi.”

Miguel looks at him a little unsurely.

And honestly? That’s fair.

Whiskey hasn’t talked to Miguel since their brief encounter at Founders. In fact, it might be the case that Whiskey has made it his business not to talk to Miguel, quite on purpose. Which shouldn’t be such a big deal, considering that the two of them weren’t even friends before Whiskey decided that wasn’t on the table, anymore.

The unfortunate thing is, Whiskey is pretty sure that Miguel has noticed. At any rate, there’s definitely been a couple of times when Whiskey has caught Miguel glancing his way during class.

Or maybe, Whiskey belatedly realizes, it might actually have been himself who's been caught watching Miguel.

Right now, though, Miguel is sort of looking anywhere but at Whiskey. He’s got his attention focused on the almost thinning crowd to their left, looking very much like he’s planning on making his escape as soon as an opportunity arises. Which should be a good thing. It should be one hundred percent exactly what Whiskey wants.

It’s not what Whiskey wants.

For a moment, Whiskey allows himself to look at Miguel. Just look at him. It’s difficult – Whiskey has to fight the prickling urge to glance around them, to make sure that no one is watching, that no one will look over and see what’s happening and just know. Except, Whiskey suddenly realizes, that’s actually pretty fucking unlikely. Right next to them, one Princess Peach and three ninjas are having an increasingly heated debate on who’s chosen the superior party snack, and over in the next aisle a whole gang of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are halfway through a spontaneous rendition of the show’s theme song in several different keys.

Who the fuck is gonna care about a wizard and a unicorn over in a corner, just talking?

Maybe, Whiskey could actually let himself have this. Just this. One conversation with a really cute boy, in public, on purpose. Maybe it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.

Whiskey nervously adjusts his glassless glasses.

“How, uh. How’ve you been?”

Miguel’s eyes snap back towards him.

“Excuse me?”

“How have you been?” Whiskey repeats, enunciating carefully. “How’s statistics going?”

Miguel shrugs, his expression guarded.

“Okay, I guess.”

“It’s kind of growing on me,” Whiskey offers – he can do this, he can carry a normal fucking conversation. “Or maybe I’m just relieved that I actually passed the midterm.”

That makes Miguel frown.

“There’s no way you just passed,” he disagrees, before pausing briefly. “I mean. You don’t seem like you’ve got no clue about all those things, in class.”

“Appearances can be pretty deceiving,” Whiskey returns, and it’s honestly ridiculous, the way Miguel’s hesitant smile makes Whiskey’s heart flutter. Fucking ridiculous.

“That’s true,” Miguel replies, his eyes flickering down to Whiskey’s scarf for a moment. “Because you definitely can't be a Gryffindor.”

“No, God no – this is just a costume.” Whiskey dares a slight smile of his own. “I go to Beauxbatons, actually."

That makes Miguel laugh a little. Whiskey’s heart soars.

"You speak French, then?" Miguel throws at him, his tone a little playful – or maybe actually flirty? How is one supposed to tell the difference?

"Uh... Non?"

"If you say so," Miguel says loftily. "Estoy seguro de que hablas otros idiomas."

"... That's Spanish, right?"

Miguel grins.

"Ten points to Slytherin," he declares, his expression giddy in a way that unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute, at all. “I really like your glasses, by the way.”

“The glasses are my one contribution to this costume,” Whiskey hurriedly admits. “My friends put together literally everything else.”

“The glasses are a nice touch, though,” Miguel says kindly. “They actually suit you pretty well.”

“... Uh. Thanks.” Whiskey has no idea of what he’s supposed to say to that – something about Miguel’s costume, probably? “You, um. You make a really nice unicorn.”

Fuck. He must try to think before he speaks, from now on.

Thankfully, it seems like Whiskey’s limitless awkwardness doesn’t make Miguel think Whiskey is completely out of his mind. Instead, Whiskey watches in a state of fear infused with delight as Miguel ducks his head for a moment, smiling.

Fucking fuck.

“Hey,” Miguel says, looking up to meet Whiskey’s eyes again – compared to before, he sounds oddly determined. “We should meet up sometime. You could definitely give me some pointers for statistics, and we could also, y’know. Just hang out? Maybe?"

… Whiskey was not expecting that.

Evidently, his surprise is showing on his face, because Miguel immediately backpedals.

“I mean, only if you have time – I guess the hockey season’s in full swing, right about now? Must be tough.”

Whiskey takes a deep breath, and allows himself to glance around the two of them, just once. The crowd’s finally thinned out a little bit – for the first time since they left the Haus, there’s not a single Alexander Hamilton in sight. Still, even without the presence of shouting Princess Peaches and musically inclined Ninja Turtles, there’s actually nobody watching them. Nobody seems even a little bit curious about what’s happening over in their little corner.

No one will know. No one will even care.

Whiskey bravely turns back towards Miguel.

“Sure.”

It’s Miguel’s turn to look surprised, now.

“Really?”

“Sure,” Whiskey repeats. “D’you wanna-”

“Hey, Whiskey! Let’s get moving!”

Whiskey curses inwardly as he turns around – Tango and Ford are gesturing towards him enthusiastically from across the shop, both carrying several bags full of disposable cups.

At least the kegster is saved.

“I’ve gotta go,” Whiskey says, quickly turning back towards Miguel. “You should have my number.”

Miguel is staring at him.

“Whiskey?”

Oh. Right.

“My last name’s Whisk,” Whiskey points out, feeling more self-conscious than ever. “Do you have a pen?”

“No, but here.” Miguel presses his phone into Whiskey’s hands, the screen showing a new contact with empty fields. The brief brush of their fingers is nothing short of exhilarating. “So, do you actually like to drink whiskey?”

“Not particularly.” Whiskey quickly types in his number. Obviously, he saves himself as Whiskey – nothing else for it, at this point. “There. All done.”

“Great.” Miguel smiles briefly towards his phone, before looking back at Whiskey again. “I’ll see you, then?”

“Of course,” Whiskey promises, and finds that he wants to linger. “Bye. I’ll see you, too.”

“Yo, Potter! The Hogwarts Express ain't gonna wait!"

Whiskey grimaces. Then he gives Miguel an awkward wave, and leaves.

“We got the very last of the plastic cups, but it should be enough,” Ford tells Whiskey cheerfully as she shoves two bags into his hands. “Let’s go. Who was that, anyway?”

“A guy from my statistics class. We’re gonna study together.”

Tango tsks.

“Thinking about studying on a day like this? It’s Halloween, my darlings – anything and everything can happen, so let your spirits fly!"

Whiskey allows himself a slight grin.

"Yeah. You might actually be onto something, T."

Ford gives him a somewhat curious look.

Whiskey carefully avoids meeting her eyes.

(ch. 11)

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butiamlookingforlove · 4 years

Text

a letter for the lonely

hi fellow humans,

I’m here to confabulate out loud - writing, in my case, is a big step onto the thing people do when they share their lives - about my experience and hopefully this message resonates with you if you’re feeling down or something.

I’ve been res-pec-ting quarantine for a long time now, my country has taken a lot of time to take care of lockdown and etc. so as a matter of HONOR I believed the right thing to do was to at least res-pect quarantine.

But it’s been crazy, we can’t avoid the fact that it’s been a tough experience, for a number of reasons. So, in my case, it’s been a hardcore roller coaster, but I’m fine (:,)), anyways, the point is that I’ve been spending my newfound free time learning and studying philosophy, more specifically, I’ve been studying in depth The Golden Verses of Pythagoras and Plato’s Allegory of the Cave.

The challenge of trying to grasp like 30% of everything they were teaching through these pieces of their knowledge always boosts me to go further, seeking more. Unfortunately, during those recent days, time and space, it seemed that the more knowledge I found and learned the worse I’d have existencial crisis afterwards. (I’m not sure if this sentence is correct, might edit later)

I’ve started feeling extremely angry, frustrated, and even low-key violent. There was just something inside me hurting a lot, I’d say to my mom “I hate the shadows, and like the guy who saw the Sun in Plato’s allegory, I want my friends to see the Sun with me, I want to live in a place where people truly live for their values, like simplicity, humbleness…” - it went down as a ‘normal’ conversation but I was still felling quite troubled and irritated.

Eventually I forced myself to go outside, ride my bike, push myself out of my own misery. To be honest, I ended up pushing me beyond my limits since my legs are sore right now. But one hour afterwards I felt renewed. I was like “what?? exercising makes you feel physically and mentally better and I knew that all along?? what??” I don’t know, lol, maybe I haven’t been doing this for too long and now there’s WAY TOO MUCH neurotransmitters in my brain making me feel good about myself.

I’m dumb, but not stupid. Keep in mind: you’ll feel complete when you nurture your mind and your body. If I recall it honestly, maybe I wasn’t ready for all that knowledge, as Socrates would say, books can’t tell you if you’re not interpreting something correctly. And I was getting a TON of information, maybe I didn’t grasp them completely yet.

So now onto my experience on the outside world after months only walking sporadically around my neighborhood: it was kinda weird?

I’ve always considered myself as a 0% antisocial person, I usually have no problem starting a new conversation with people I don’t know, doesn’t even matter where the person is from, it’s never been too much of a challenge for me. However, when I was riding my bike through the main place young people get to reunite at afternoons nowadays in my city - even during a pandemic -, I got kinda scared, self-conscious.

I mean, I AM self-conscious, like, always. I love talking to new people and meeting new people, but it doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of it, and it also doesn’t mean I don’t “prepare” myself for it - like if I’m not looking so good I’ll probably get a bit insecure, if I start overthinking I’ll believe I’m acting awkward and also get insecure, you know, basic infj stuff.

I know this “apprehensive” feeling comes from a place inside me that is constantly seeking the approval of others - bc the thing I truly despise is a negative (and rude) comment that is specifically aimed for me, it’s something I just accept and recognize, there’s no use denying it, lol -, but… If I would explain what happened to me as a third person narrator, I’d say that this feeling - which I know is not exclusive to me - occurs when we get afraid of people that don’t do what we do. You know what I mean?

It’s a completely normal thing to judge negatively someone that disagrees with you bc they do the absolute opposite you do, I understand that coming from me and from everyone else.

But… I don’t know, it makes me afraid anyway, you know, the thing about ending up isolated because you do NOT participate in a particular group - in this case, most groups - of people because you don’t seem to find people that do what you do and agree with you about doing what you do.

So yeah, the conclusion is quite obvious. I’m just going through the pain of fighting for my own integrity - and also fighting against the part of me that wants people around me to say “you go girl, keep up with what you do, good job”, it’s like… pretty pathetic, and I know that, lol.

(hmm, so that’s why I can’t be cool like those intjs out there whaaat)

Anyways, that was long, all over the place and about a ton of stuff that might seem disconnected but for me they’re not.

And don’t worry, I’ll pay more attention whenever my crybaby ass start seeking approval when I pretty much shouldn’t be doing that. It’s a natural fight inside me at this point, the thing is that sometimes I can’t anticipate it - specially after months going through this exceptional experience called quarantine.

Also, whenever you find people online saying “send me a message if you need to talk”, trust it, go for it, these people are offering something pretty nice that you might not be able to find later. So, if you need to talk, I’m all ears, doors open 24/7.

Take care buds, gen z, this is for you, I love you, keep fighting through.

#infj #intj #personal #rant #Plato's allegory of the cave #the golden verses of Pythagoras #philosophy #quarantine #gen z #feelings of love and hate basically #mbti

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professorspork · 3 years

Text

today in the Andromeda Galaxy, GLITCHES TRIED TO KILL ME BUT I MADE IT WORK. or, well. Helen made it work, actually, and I was very grateful. (Elaaden, what do you have against my triangle button working? and wtf was that Nomad bug where suddenly I could see through time and the world contracted and my hair turned white????)

anyway.

this morning I joked to Helen that I was feeling very “I love all of my crew equally”/“I don’t care for Cora” so today I made a concerted effort to get to know her better--and tried a few Nomad combos where she wouldn’t sound like the fun police. (turns out, she and Vetra get along great! and also when I put her with Peebee she gets very self-conscious about how she’s totes not appropriating asari culture and it’s v embarrassing. on the OTHER hand, she makes fun of Peebee for peeping on Jaal and like, again, wtf, let me have my ot3.)

I started out finishing up that Morda drive core mission that glitched, and of course I gave the krogan the drive core in exchange for the outpost because I LOVE KROGAN and also RYDER LOVES OUTPOSTS. win/win tbh. but honestly the best part was getting to pick the dialogue option talking to Addison “fuck Tann” and Ryder actually getting to say fuck! it’s the little things.

after closing out Elaaden I decided to try and finish up a few errand-y missions like scanning plants, etc. in doing so, I got to play soccer with my very best friend Liam which was a heartwarming lot of fun, and fought TWO architects because just one was not enough. Peebee’s ex stole our beloved Proof Of Concept (I know the bot is called Poc, but honestly I think full-naming it is much cuter) and I was all “of course I’m gonna help you we’re in this together” which threw Peebee off her game because she’s still thrown every time someone cares about her. I AM, AGAIN, CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH, GENUINELY SAD I’M GOING TO HAVE TO CHOOSE AMONG ROMANCE OPTIONS. this experience could not be more different from the main trilogy, where I romanced Liara out of a sense of obligation/curiosity faaaaaar more than any genuine interest or investment, and wasn’t tempted* to deviate from that by anyone else along the way. there are a thousand mechanical reasons why I think romance works much, much better in Andromeda than it ever did in the main series--among them the very pointed focus on found family throughout, the more nuanced ability to craft a unique Ryder by doing away with paragon/renegade and instead having the more robust conversation trees, and the overworld chatting on the Nomad giving EVERYONE the amount of personality off the bat that my OG crew had to like bite and claw for for two and a half games-- but like. I’m not gonna lie a big part of it is just that I just think more of these people are more interesting as potential partners. I THINK I AM AN ANDROMEDA GIRL.

* well that’s a lie I would have romanced Tali in a heartbeat if I weren’t playing fem!Shep and that was illegal. and I’ll probably romance Sam Traynor after that. so. it’s not a total bust.

but I digress.

saved that scientist’s baby on Voeld, and afterwards had my first ACTUAL, HUMAN conversation with Addison about--shockingly--the nature of friendship. I was genuinely surprised and pleased! look at us go! I also did some spying for that STG agent, and got the world’s most badly delivered “gee, are you really going to believe that old coot?” speech out of my main suspect, which was hilariously insulting.

and then, partly due to Helen’s advice and partly because, again, today was Learn To Appreciate Cora Day, I finished out her loyalty mission! I was shocked to find Sarissa alive after all the build-up-- I was certain that after that long a drum roll for how key she’d be in the Initiative’s growth that we’d find her mega-dead-- but as Helen pointed out to me, the trope is Don’t Meet Your Heroes, not Your Hero Is Probably Dead, Actually. her whole “be calm, soldier” routine @ Vedaria was kind of grating in the moment but is very cute after the fact, so fine. the whole muted sounds and gravity tricks of that final fight were super fun, even though I did accidentally jump into space once or twice. the big biotics lightshow was v impressive, but after I took a pretty hardline stance on Sarissa: come clean and shut up, and you’re fired. I did get a little offended when the asari captain was like “you could have killed us all, it was only dumb luck that Ryder found us” bc EXCUSE ME, SOME OF IT WAS DUMB SKILL, but still. it was good to get that all settled, and very good to hear Cora say what was immediately obvious to everyone but her, which is that her compulsion towards mentors and plans would have made her a poor Pathfinder but makes her a perfect XO.

then I hit level 50 and spent a lot of time upgrading my gear, and like-- a kind god would have put the loadout console next to R&D and the buy/sell screen so I wouldn’t have to run up and down the Tempest corridor like an idiot. but whatever. Baby’s Fourth Beam Gun TM (an Avenger with a beam emitter) is working out splendidly, I’m slicing and dicing with my asari sword, and I’ve just put seeking plasma bolts on my Eagle which delights me. still shopping around for my ideal sniper before I commit but we’re getting there!

then I went to start the new planet, but then realized Ark Natanus was right there, and ended up backtracking twice. First I ran back to the Nexus thinking there’d be another fun homecoming cut scene for the asari like there’d been for the salarians that I didn’t want to muddy with adding turians, too, only that didn’t happen. boo! I did remember to check on my mom, tho, so that was nice and emotional. then I went back to Netanus to start that up, only to realize I was wearing a very ugly and entirely face-obscuring helmet-- and once it was clear the entirety of the mission was going to be me emoting at Rix, I restarted the mission with a different armor loudout. yes, I am that vain, but only because opportunities for mlm/wlw solidarity are rare in this game (Gil’s been quiet lately, lol) and Rix deserved my best. though after doing all this, I am wondering: why do all the SAMs have different voices? surely making even one AI as smart and unique as SAM is difficult; then making each Ark’s SAM unique feels like an unnecessary burden? but whatever.

H-whateverthefuck is by far my favorite planet to Nomad around on. I’ve been complaining about the lack of low gravity mechanics since the Mako in ME1 (WE WENT TO THE MOON, THE LITERAL MOON, OUR MOON, AND NOT EVEN THAT HAD LOW GRAVITY?) and so this felt like pure vindication. (also, in general but very aggressively NOT for this planet because of the radiation, shout out to the Nomad for letting me get out no matter how poorly or vertically it’s parked, because lord knows I glitched the Mako many times trying to pause and get out in ‘impossible’ places the Nomad handles with ease.) anyway. the concept of a broken-up planet is terrifying, and the reality of it was eerie as all get-out. what neat execution!

and speaking of a neat execution, I’m so relieved going with the interrupt and firing at Meriwether while she held Sid worked, because I was again legit scared I might get Sid killed. as you’ll recall re: my Jaal loyalty mission, that’s the second time I was genuinely quite nervous there would be real consequences to screwing this up! I give the game a lot of credit for building a world where it feels like I really could screw up that badly. I’m very proud/fond of Sid, and the whole security camera mechanic was delightful-- a more fun version of the kind of stuff KOTOR always made me do. back on the Tempest, I decided to flirt with Vetra while the flirting’s still good, but tbh her flirt option (“I care about Sid bc I care about you”) wasn’t even all that romantically valanced, if you ask me! but also I love that Sid’s idea of justice is fast-tracking having cats in Heleus.

phew! with so many big things now out of the way, I’m not sure how much dithering I can/should do before continuing with the main mission. but that’s a decision for future me.

#leah plays mass effect andromeda

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incomingalbatross · 4 years

Note

Met online asks: the Psmith series, predictably?

I am at long last getting to this! (and what, no, I wasn’t expecting this one at all... :P )

So I think what stymied me here is that... Mike is almost certainly a lurker online. I can imagine Psmith being a Personality easily, but Mike probably spends his time in the internet as inconspicuously as he can. And they need to meet as equals, obviously, so you can’t have just one be Internet Famous at the start...

BUT. Once I started typing, it worked out pretty well!

So here we go:

Mike has Facebook and Twitter and so on, partly for keeping up with IRL connections but mostly to keep up with cricket and his brothers. Tweets almost exclusively about cricket (though also about TV shows he’s currently into), actually has followers who don’t know him IRL because he has Informed Takes

His Twitter account is old enough that it’s not connected to his real name, and he doesn’t identify himself either because he doesn’t like the notoriety of being the Youngest Jackson Brother when he’s not even playing... what do you even call it? Do you call it playing pro cricket, nowadays? You know what I mean. He’s probably still in high school

So yeah his online presence isn’t explicitly connected to the rest of his family’s. His brothers follow him, but they’re not very active on Twitter, and personal communication in the Jackson family is mainly over group text, so the fact that they’re related doesn’t really show

Psmith, meanwhile, has a Twitter account that jumps randomly from topic to topic, depending on whatever the heck he’s thinking about at the moment. It’s constant Psmith Monologuing thrown out into the void, just what the internet was made for

His Twitter display name is Psmith and his handle is something like @ therealpsmith. No one’s sure if it’s supposed to be his last name or if his name is P. Smith or what.

(It feels weird making up Twitter accounts for them in response to an ask from you... but this AU has different goals and so I do need different Twitter presences for them. And I can’t see Mike on Tumblr at all, so that’s not an option)

Since this is an AU, I think they can initially connect over cricket. Psmith follows Mike first, and tends to retweet a fair amount of his cricket takes with his own added commentary. After enough of this (since Mike isn’t so high-profile that he doesn’t notice a new regular interacter) Mike goes and checks out his Twitter

It’s not all cricket and a lot of it is diatribes about whatever’s annoyed Psmith today. But they’re witty and entertaining diatribes, and Mike ends up following him

Before long Psmith starts up a long thread about something Mike’s already been stewing over--a plot development in a TV show they both watch, maybe? Not sure

But anyway Mike starts commenting/retweeting/arguing with other people who disagree, because the thing in question is Stupid and Wrong and the fact that people think otherwise bothers him on a personal level

And then Psmith DMs him like “The cricket connoisseur has come to my aid! I am gratified by your assistance,” and then starts talking to him, personally, about why the thing is Dumb and Wrong

From this they start chatting/interacting more regularly. Mike is, obviously, less loquacious than Psmith, and I don’t think their friendship solidifies quite as quickly as in canon just because they aren’t doing things together, but they still click

At some point Psmith’s bemoaning the fact that he’s so constrained by Twitter’s character limit (unlike Mike, who is “the strong, silent type, admirable suited to the medium”) and starts talking about how to fully express himself he should really have a podcast

Mike: “Why don’t you, then?”

Psmith: “You are right. Why not? Here we see the strength of a true man of action--direct and to the point. Why SHOULDN’T I start a podcast?”

Annnd then he ropes Mike into doing it with him so he’ll have someone to talk to. Mike insists, however, on only using his first name, because he doesn’t want this to reflect badly in his brothers if it goes horribly wrong

So they start a nominally-about-cricket (since that’s their biggest shared thing) podcast, called simply “Mike and Psmith”

(There’s probably a joke somewhere in their eventual fanbase about it being “Mic and Psmith,” since Psmith’s doing 80% of the talking)

Between their dynamic and Psmith’s ability to talk, it’s surprisingly successful--it bounces all over the place, topic-wise, but they’re just fun to listen to

While they’re not, like, Buzzfeed Unsolved levels of well-known, they get a decent-sized fanbase

(There’s a long-running fandom debate over whether Psmith is actually Like That or if the show’s scripted. It will probably never be permanently resolved)

They also start a YouTube channel for playing video games and so on--partly because listeners wanted to see it, but partly because they just like hanging out and doing stuff together

Mike has not told his family about any of this, BTW, because he’s too self-conscious about being mildly internet famous, but one day Margery stumbles across the show. He’s in for a lot of teasing

I honestly don’t know how they meet IRL--I’m torn between A) them just video-chatting eventually, learning each other’s actual names, and meeting up at a cricket match, and B) them meeting coincidentally, in some completely different capacity, and recognizing each other by their voices

Either way, though, once they meet they keeping meeting and eventually end up room/flatmates once they both move away from home (if Mike’s planning to play cricket, would he go to college? Would modern Mike be planning to play cricket for a living? I don’t know these things so I’m leaving that vague)

“Moving in with someone you made friends with online” is not always a recipe for success, but it works out for them. They were already best friends, but now they can actually do stuff together! It really just solidifies their friendship for good

(Not that there isn’t friction--the number of Shenanigans Psmith drags Mike into has vastly increased, for one thing--but it all works out, in the end)

Their podcast is an essential part of their routine, by now. I’m not sure how it develops over the years, but it stays pretty low-key... the core of it is still just two best friends hanging out, and that works

(At some point in the future, the cast may expand to "two best friends and their wives, who are also best friends,” but that’s another story, and one I don’t know well enough to say for sure)

#psmith #mike jackson #isfjmel-phleg #ask games #thank you for this one!#it was fun once i got it going #and there REALLY should be a Part 2 with the girls but i don't know if it'll happen #(if anyone else wants to come up with that one please do!)#there need to be Internet Identity Shenanigans in that of course #too much wodehousian potential there to pass up #(and i almost went there for mike and psmith but i felt it should maybe be saved for psmith and eve)#this had less Emotional Drama than the psych one but i think that fits them okay?#not that i'm OPPOSED to Emotional Drama it just didn't come up the same way #also wasn't expecting them to become podcasters but i enjoy the mental images of that #and psmith needs to use the internet to talk SOMEHOW right #too good a venue to pass up #WAIT 'Nominally About Cricket' is their tagline

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pynkhues · 4 years

Note

3 7 22!!

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

I answered this one here, but I will say I forever want to write more scenes with just the girls, particularly pre-canon scenes, so I thought I might share a scene from my ridiculously belated prompt-a-thon fill which is 10 times Ruby’s danced, and this scene is about Beth and Ruby while Beth’s in labour with Emma, and Ruby’s pregnant with Harry.

Below a cut to save your feeds!

“I kinda figured we’d just arrange the thing.”

She’s only half serious when she says it, but it’s worth it to see Beth’s head jerk, her eyebrows somewhere up near her forehead even as her cheeks are still flushed red, her chest still heaving.

“You have been watching way too many old romances,” she tells her, amusement thick in her tone, and Ruby shrugs, rocking the baby carrier beside her when Danny starts to whine.

“Please, you’re the one who made us go see Fiddler on the Roof three times at the Revival Theatre. If it wasn’t for that, I’d never even know about the whole matchmaker thing with your people.”

“My people,” Beth scoffs, red creeping up her neck. “Besides, the whole point of Fiddler on the Roof was that he had to learn how to let his daughters choose who they married. That they couldn’t just arrange - - ah.”

Beth exhales sharply, squirming back into her seat, hands balling, white knuckled at the arms of the chair, and she has to be close, Ruby thinks, dropping her hand to Beth’s back, rubbing soothing circles there as she tries to catch the attention of one of the nurses. They barely seem to even see them though amidst the crowded waiting room, beelining to patients with - - what even is that? A rash? Ruby side eyes the nurse taking the man out of the waiting room, before turning her attention back to Beth.

“What was that whole do you love me song about then, huh?” Ruby says. “Him and his wife had been matched, and those two were in it, y’know?”

“It’s generational. The parents do what they have to so the kids can have it better,” Beth insists, but she hasn’t opened her eyes yet, her eyelashes matted together with her clumping mascara and tears, and Ruby sighs, sitting forwards as best she can with her own pregnant belly in the way. New plan, Ruby tells herself. They are never pregnant at the same time again. One of them needs to run point, and she can’t send Stan out with Kenny and Sara forever.

“Where’s Dean?”

“I called Boland Motors,” Ruby promises. “He wasn’t at his desk, and honestly that new secretary of his is - -”

Well, Ruby thinks a little dryly.

She’s something.

Beth squirms back in her seat, panting a little now, and the contractions really are getting closer together, even if her waters haven’t broken yet. Maybe they’ll have to pop that bag for her – they had to do it with Danny after all –her gaze darts sideways to check on him in his stroller, but he’s fallen asleep again.

“So, how do you wanna do it?” Ruby asks, keeping her tone light. “We gotta get this thing on paper.”

It’s enough to make Beth twist her neck sideways, to peel open her watery eyes in confusion, and Ruby waits until she has Beth’s full attention before she gestures down to her own swollen belly.

“Stan Junior here is gonna be a catch. I’m just saying. Beth Junior there might want to lock it down.”

Beth’s laugh is strangled between her breathlessness, the pain of her contractions, but god, it’s music to Ruby’s ears.

“Oh, Stan Junior will definitely be a catch,” Beth agrees, the sweat curling her hair at her temples. The contraction seems to pass, and Beth smooths her own hand over her belly, still panting. “Lilies for the wedding?”

Ruby hums in approval, only to pause, squint a little below the bright glare of the hospital fluorescents.

“Wait. Do they get married at a church or a synagogue?”

“Neither,” Beth says, brushing her hair away from her face with a trembling hand, her eyes fixing briefly on Danny, sleeping in his stroller. “I feel like we should get a vacation out of it.”

“Oh, you’re planning a beach wedding now?” Ruby asks with a grin, the thing only faltering when the doors open again but - - no. Just a nurse, brandishing her clipboard. Still no Dean. Typical.

Beth hums, like she hadn’t even noticed, looking back at Ruby, her blue eyes bright, and there’s something that feels like Beth in it again, something warm, impish, as she wrinkles her nose, considering, and Ruby can’t help it, the way it feels like a key that unlocks her.

“White sand, the ocean,” Beth says. “We’d probably need to hire a marquee.”

“And a beach bar,” Ruby agrees, grinning a little when Beth rolls her eyes, waving a hand at her innocuously, before she says:

“Well, that goes without saying.”

And Ruby just laughs at that, sinking back briefly into her hard backed hospital chair (which is one-thousand percent not designed for anyone at all ever) before leaning forwards again, standing up two of her fingers like legs and walking them from one side of her belly to the other, over the arms of the chairs, and up the side of Beth’s twitching belly.

“Miss Boland, before you depart your mother, do you take this little man growing inside me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

It really is magic, Ruby thinks again, the sound of Beth’s laugh. The real one she hears less and less often, the one that makes her throw her head back, her eyes crinkle, the sound a little low, a little husky, the one she knows Dean can never get out of her, and that at least feels like a truth. That Beth is still hers. That she’ll never lose her, not entirely, to Dean, no matter how many photo ops she goes to, no matter how many times she defers to him, no matter how much she dims her light to grow his.

Beth props her own fingers up then, mirroring Ruby’s action and walking them up over the swell of her own belly, meeting Ruby’s fingers in the middle.

“My daughter is running a little late, but I believe I have the permission to speak for her this evening,” Beth says gravely, lowering her voice. “And she says ‘I do’. Now, Mr. Hill, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“He does,” Ruby says, face split in two with a grin. She lets her eyes slip shut and her tone lower in faux-seriousness. “Finally, our two houses united.”

“Well, our husbands’ houses,” Beth says wryly, and Ruby tilts her head, conceding.

“That’s true. I think ours have been united a lot longer than this.”

She smiles over at Beth affectionately, but it just - - it floors her, the look Beth gives her back. Her eyes wide open, suddenly wet again, pupils darting across Ruby’s face like she’s - - like she’s looking for the lie, and when she doesn’t see it, she tangles her fingers with Ruby’s, quick as she can, mumbling something about a first dance and holds Ruby’s hand tight to her belly, swaying a little – as if to hide the fact that maybe she just wanted to hold her.

To be held.

And Ruby holds her hand back all the tighter.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

I am sure everyone would love me to stop talking about light and using ‘- -’, haha.

But honestly? I actually don’t know how others perceive my style. Like I’ve said in other posts, I’ve been told my writing is extremely feminine by industry professionals, which I believe translates to being interested in women’s lives and writing fairly descriptively (masculine prose is usually v bare bones ala Raymond Carver and, of course, Hemingway).

I think some of the characteristics of my writing is that it’s sensory and descriptive, that I like untidy endings, that no relationship is perfect. I think (and hope) I prioritise relationships between women, even with shipper fic, that my sex scenes (again, hopefully, haha) never feel pointless or isolated from the story, and I think I’m pretty good at metaphor, but others might disagree! Who knows!

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

Y’know, I usually don’t? By the time I post something, I’ve usually re-read it so many times I lowkey hate it, haha, and reading it just makes me feel very self-conscious. I can see the machinery of my own writing I suppose. I can see the bits I’m proud of, sure, but I can also see the bits where I got lazy, the places where the pacing isn’t quite right, the parts where I think I’m too heavy-handed.

That said, I did re-read all of C&C recently as I was building the timeline masterpost I posted about a month ago now, but also building a better story bible for myself to write new stories, and I was really surprised by how much I enjoyed being in that world again as a reader?

Particularly the last installment I posted of Playing House - ‘Animalia’ (otherwise known as the zoo chapter, haha) - I really, really hated when I posted. I’d had a few set-backs in my original writing professionally at that time, and then I had seen someone make an unkind comment about my fics which just sort of hit a nerve at a bad time. It meant I was extra critical of my own writing, and I loved the story in my head, but felt it wasn’t translating well onto the page.

I got to a point where I was like - - well, whatever, I don’t want to look at it, and I know people like this ‘verse, so maybe they’ll overlook how crap it is’. I got such a lovely response to it at the time, but I still felt badly about it, and so re-reading it this time, and being like ‘hang on, Past Sophie, you’re an asshole, this is pretty good’ was a nice feeling, haha.

#fic memes #blue moon #my fic #welcome to my ama #ruby hill #beth boland #beth + ruby #sothischickshe

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raineydaywrites · 3 years

Text

Nesting Chapter 13

on ao3 (x)

Fic Summary: Taako and Lup are determined to kick ass at going to university, even though their childhood education was anything but traditional.

Then, Taako finds himself in a situation that threatens to undermine all their hard work.

But there's plenty of university students that have kids! Really, this is just another chance to show how much better they are at everything they do- they can definitely manage to graduate and raise a kid at the same time.

Chapter summary: The IPRE crew is starting to come together!! This is pure fluff.

Chapter: Once he'd started showing, it didn't take long for stretchy and flowy clothing choices to be his only real options. He wasn't yet stuck with only pregnancy clothes, would be able to fit into some of the stuff he'd already owned for a little while yet, but he was getting there.

By now he'd basically stolen a good percent of Lup's stretchy and flowy clothes as well, finding himself frustrated with the decrease in his wardrobe options. She'd let him for the most part, with only the occasional annoyed look instead of any confrontations about the matter, which he was very grateful for. He didn't want to feel self-conscious about the way he looked now, but every once in a while the thoughts popped up and being able to wear mostly clothing that he'd already liked instead of generic pregnancy clothes all the time was helping with that.

Random people around him were starting to notice. He could tell. Very few of them had said anything quite yet, because it was rude to assume and all that, but he noticed the way that people's eyes would catch briefly on his stomach, or they would offer him a seat or whatever without saying anything.

He appreciated the seat thing, honestly. His feet and legs had hurt a lot recently, which he hadn't expected so early in. He still had so much time to go; both he and the baby still had a lot of growing to do, so the discomfort was sure to only get worse from here. Sitting down as much as possible made that a lot better.

Being clocked as a pregnant person by strangers wasn't making him as dysphoric as he'd feared. It happened sometimes, but he could handle it for the most part. He could accept being seen as feminine at times, as long as it wasn't the only thing people saw him as ever. So he was getting by.

No, for the most part, it was just weird. This whole thing was so personal and private, and yet so many people knew about it without knowing a single other thing about him. Taako had always been a bit showy, but that didn't mean that he wasn't also a very private person. He liked being the center of attention when he was in control of it.

He wasn't in control of almost any of this.

Wasn't all bad though. Kiddo had started moving around a lot more- they weren't really kicking yet, which Lup was incredibly disappointed about, but Taako appreciated the fact that the movements weren't hurting him, so as far as he was concerned, baby could wait on that as long as they liked.

It was weird to feel someone moving inside of him like this, but it was nice too. A reminder that he hadn't messed them up. They were here, they were alive, and they were active.

The morning sickness wasn't completely gone, but it had diminished severely and now his biggest appetite problem had jumped to the opposite side of the spectrum. He was hungry all the time, and sometimes for really weird stuff, but at least that problem was one he was more comfortable handling. Now that he could cook again without fearing that he'd quickly lose anything he got down, he had this shit taken care of. And if he didn't have whatever he was craving, he could just transmute it from something else. He pitied the poor fools who couldn't, who just had to deal with it some other way.

He and Lup had turned in their applications for the planar exploration expedition a little bit ago, and now the only thing to do was wait. Taako had wondered if he should disclose his pregnancy in the application. The only thing worse than getting turned down for the expedition would be to be accepted, only to be told that they wouldn't send someone pregnant on a mission like this.

But in the end, he decided not to. There wasn't a set date for the mission yet, at least, not one that they'd revealed to the applicants or the public, so it might not even be an issue by then. It would definitely take months for them to make their selections, and probably a fair amount of training time after that, so there was no point in giving them a reason to doubt his capabilities before they even really considered him.

He really hoped that Lup would get the opportunity at least. If he couldn't go, the next best thing was for his sister to get the chance. She had insisted that she wouldn't go without him, but he refused to be the reason that she missed out on an opportunity like this.

But Lup had equally refused to leave him alone when he was heavily pregnant and soon to give birth.

They'd ended up managing to compromise that she would stay if the mission date would overlap his due date, because he didn't exactly love the idea of going through those experiences alone either. He'd really been trying to avoid thinking about the entire idea of labor, because he knew it would be one of the most painful experiences of his life, and that was both terrifying and unavoidable.

"The shit I'm gonna go through for you..." Taako mumbled to himself- mumbled to the parasite, more specifically, because he wasn't normally the type of guy to talk to himself when no one else was around. If only because he had very rarely been in a situation where he had no one else around.

He was sure he'd heard somewhere that babies could hear stuff at some point, but he had no idea when. He'd thought about looking up stuff like that, but it kept slipping his mind.

He'd only ended up looking up one of those 'how big is my baby' sites once, because it had made his hormones go absolutely wild and he'd turned into an absolute mess, crying about how tiny the little guy was. He had been very glad that Lup had not been in the room with him, because even though he knew she wasn't going to judge him, especially right now, she still would have found it very funny, and he'd have felt embarrassed about it.

He was a stone-cold bitch, not a sap who cried over cute things!

It was different though, when his hormones were acting different than usual,- when it was his cute thing.

He was allowed to think his own child was cute! He just didn't want anyone to think that he couldn't still be a badass while also loving his kid! He's a multidimensional being, he's allowed to feel both things!

He let one hand rest on his stomach over where the baby was fluttering around while he checked the mailbox.

He hadn't expected anything interesting, so he went still with surprise when he pulled out two envelopes from the Institute- one bearing his name and the other with Lup's.

He would wait for Lup to get back before he opened them. They should do this together- he didn't want to do it without her anyway, no matter what the results were. If they were good or if they were bad, he would figure it out with his sister by his side- as they always had been.

Still, despite his determination not to open the letters without Lup, he couldn't stop his mind from thinking about it.

The envelopes were rather thin. Was that a bad sign? Would they have sent more information if they'd been accepted? The two envelopes were about the same width, which could either mean that they'd both gotten the same results or that there was no extra info for people who had been accepted to the next phase.

Which basically meant, he still had absolutely no idea of what the results were, just as he always had. The only difference now was that he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He tried to get some homework done, but it quickly became clear that that was a lost cause. But he couldn't seem to get invested in anything else either- nothing fun, nothing productive- he just sat at the kitchen table, one leg bouncing anxiously as he waited for his sister to get home.

Her class should be done by now, what the hell was she doing?

When the front door finally opened, he shot Lup an exasperated look, and asked exactly that.

"I went for coffee with Lucretia," Lup said, frowning in mild confusion.

"Ugh, gods, of course you pick the absolute worst time to go on your first date with her," Taako groaned. He may have been low-key encouraging them to spend time together, but he hadn't expected it to backfire on him like this.

Lup blushed at his words, and Taako rolled his eyes as she sputtered, "It's not like that! We're friends!"

So apparently, even the silver lining he'd thought he spotted for a second there was taken from him.

"Did something happen?" Lup asked, putting away her bags without even looking at him. She had gotten used to the fact that Taako could be extra irritable than usual with his mood swings, and since he didn't look hurt or sad or scared or anything, she figured it was probably no big deal.

"We got the results from the Institute!" Taako announced, and Lup spun to face him, her eyes going wide.

"What? Oh my gods, gimme!" she said, reaching grabby hands out towards her brother.

Taako handed it over to her, already ripping open his own, finally.

His eyes quickly skimmed the letter, past the formal niceties to figure out what he actually wanted to know.

You are invited to the next round of selections. An interview-

Having parsed the relevant part, he looked up to Lup with a huge grin on his face, and felt it grow bigger when he realized that she was giving him the same smile.

"You got into round two, right?" he asked anyway, needing to make sure.

"You know it!" Lup said, delighted, holding up a hand for a high five that Taako immediately returned.

"Me too, natch," Taako said, casual, as if he'd never doubted it for a second. He pulled Lup into a hug, even though that had been getting harder to do recently.

Gods he hoped they'd planned this thing for a time when he could actually go. He was already starting to show by now, and it would only get more obvious as the interview date neared, so he could hardly hide it from them.

Not that he'd ever try to keep it from them completely. He couldn't hide it forever, and it would only piss them off if they found out after they'd actually offered him a spot. And for all he knew, it could be hella risky for the baby to leave the planar system, and he really ought to ask the experts first instead of crossing his fingers and hoping for the best. He couldn't risk hurting the kid for an opportunity that he knew he was good enough to get again in the future. Going on the very first expedition would be a dream, but it would still be amazing to go on any expedition.. It would be a disappointment if he had to wait, but not one worth hurting his kid over.

Still, he'd have preferred to get in at least a good first impression before breaking that bit of news to his hopefully future employers. He knew that he could be a bit of an acquired taste, but he could do a good first impression when he tried. This wasn't going to help with that. They probably had a tone of applicants who weren't PR nightmares in the making. Taako was good, but he wasn't sure he was good enough to convince them to risk the press tearing them apart over sending a pregnant person on a potentially dangerous mission.

Nothing to do about it now though. He'd go, and he'd make his best case for himself, and they'd make a decision. All he could do was try his best to convince them that he was absolutely irreplaceable.

Lucretia had asked to come visit the weekend before their interviews were scheduled. She'd seemed really excited about something over the call, and Lup and Taako had news to share as well, so Lup told her she could come over now if she wanted to.

Taako had rolled his eyes at that, as if he wasn't also excited to boast about being invited to the next round, just as much as she was.

Even if Lup had admitted to herself that okay, maybe she had a bit of a crush of Lucretia, that didn't meant that everything she did around the other girl was a sign of that! She wanted to hang out with a friend and get praised for what a good job she and her brother had done! That's it! She just liked having friends and being complimented!

When Lucretia arrived, she was wearing a bright yellow sundress, and Lup couldn't quite take her eyes off of her. She looked really good in it.

See, now that was the kind of thing that Taako had a right to tease her about- even if she really hoped he'd ignore it instead of tormenting her with it.

Didn't seem like that was all that likely though, given the shit-eating grin he gave her at the look on her face, before greeting Lucretia with, "Looking good, Creesh!"

"Thanks!" Lucretia smiled at him, tossing her hair a bit and posing cutely, which was absolutely unfair. "It's finally getting warmer out so I couldn't resist."

"Hey, when you look that good in something, why try to resist at all, right?" Lup said. That was probably too strong a compliment. "That's my attitude, at least," she added. It was true- Lup knew she was hot and she enjoyed showing that off- and hopefully it would make the first thing she said less incriminating.

A slight blush had taken over Lucretia's face at the continuing compliments, and considering how hard it was for a blush to show on her dark skin, she must have been pretty affected by it.

Gods, Lup had to do something about that. It was weird how Lucretia could be so confident in some ways and so insecure and withdrawn in others. She was clearly proud of her work and her skills, but in social situation, she turned into a nervous mess. Lup found it equal parts endearing and exasperating.

"So what's this big news?" Taako asked, breaking the silence and prompting Lucretia to perk up in excitement, back to confident once again.

"I've ghost-written a few biographies before- I don't think I told you guys that, but anyway- and so I earned a reputation, of sorts and I was invited to apply as a chronicler for a really interesting project soon, and I just got the news that I've been officially chosen!" Lucretia announced, giddy with excitement.

"That's awesome!" Lup said, high-fiving Lucretia, and Taako echoed the sentiment and offered a thumbs up from his position on the couch. "What the project?"

"I'm not supposed to give out too many details, but it's a kind of exploratory mission for the Institute," Lucretia explained.

"Wait- you mean the one to explore other planes, yeah?" Taako asked.

"Yes- how you do you know about that?" Lucretia asked, tilting her head like a curious bird.

"We applied as arcanists for the mission," Taako said, voice trying to project 'casual and sure of himself,' but slowly getting more and more excited too. "Got past the first round of approval and we're going in to interview next week."

Lucretia's mouth popped open in surprise, before splitting into another wide grin. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nah, babe, totally serious," Lup said, bouncing on her toes eagerly. "They haven't made final selections for arcanists yet- obviously- but it would be so cool to go on the mission with you!"

Lucretia nodded eagerly. "Of course. I hope you get it!"

Taako stood up from the couch with a tiny bit of difficulty that Lup and Lucretia pointedly didn't comment on to give Lucretia another high five, and then offering another to Lup as well, just for the hell of it.

"How come you get to know already?" he asked, mock annoyed. "Must be saving the best for last."

Lucretia just giggled, too happy to take any offense to that. "I think probably there are fewer writers who even applied than there are arcanists. Like, a lot of writers are probably much happier not going out on brand new ships with experimental technology into places we've never been to before. Not that I can understand that at all. So it's easier to narrow us down than the narrow down all the people who have literally been studying to do exactly this."

"Okay, we have to get chosen now, Ko. This whole setup is just getting better and better," Lup said.

"For sure. I am not going a couple months without either of my best babysitters," Taako said.

"You think I'm gonna be super good at babysitting, Koko?" Lup raised an eyebrow. "You realize I know jackshit about babies, right?"

"My cheapest babysitters," Taako amended.

"I am not watching your kid for free, even if they are my nibling," Lucretia immediately denied, shaking her head. "Knowing you, they're going to be a handful, and I demand payment in food, at least."

"Yeah, my cheapest babysitters, like I said," Taako insisted. He paused a moment, as another thought occurred to him. "You think they'll let us bring the kiddo if we promise not to let 'em bother everybody else? Like, they'd have three separate family members to wrangle them; I'm sure we could work something out."

"No?" Lucretia said. "I mean, like, that would be ideal, I admit, but I don't think the people arranging this mission are insane. No offense."

"I mean, totally worth a shot though, right?" Taako turned to Lup. "Worst they could say is no! You miss 100% of the shots you never take!"

"That is never gonna happen, but yeah, we can ask," Lup said. "You never know. I mean, Creesh, you say they're not insane, but isn't this whole concept a tiny bit insane? If you think about it?"

Lucretia shrugged, grinning, not letting any worries that this wouldn't work out dampen her excitement. "You know, I suppose you have a point. Ideally, this mission isn't being led by people with such poor decision making skills, but if it is- hey, silver lining, we all get to go together!"

"Yeah!" Taako cheered at her willingness to go along with the goof. "That's the spirit!"

Lup laughed so hard she thought she might fall over. Gods, as much as she loved Taako, she was realizing that having more people than just him around was even better. She hadn't realized how isolated they were until recently. She didn't actually need anybody but Taako, but it was kind of nice to have them anyway. Her family was getting bigger with at least the addition of the baby, and maybe she could even count Lucretia as family too, indirectly at least.

It had always been her and Taako against everyone else, and they could handle that. But getting a few more people on their side wasn't a bad thing. Far from it. It was the best thing.

#taako adventurezone #lup adventurezone #lucretia adventurezone #taz balance #my writing

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orbitariums · 5 years

Text

you should see yourself* | tom holland + woc / plus sized reader

the asterisk mark signals sexual content! i know i said i wouldn’t post tom smut on this blog but i’ve become super attracted to him lately so. here it is. also, i know that i post rlly cute imagines so this is gonna seem SO out of place but there’s no hiding it!

also, this starts off really cute so if you just wanna read the cute part and no smut honestly go ahead, i’ll warn when it gets smutty.

contains: plus-sized/thick reader, lots of talk about body image and self-worth, dick-riding, blowjob, encouragement, nude-taking, very wholesome and not wholesome all at once. hope you enjoy.

disclaimer: this imagine is not meant to say that you need a skinny white man (whom we love!) to tell u that you're beautiful in order to actually feel/be beautiful! u already are. i just thought the concept was attractive honestly.

Tonight was a low key night at Tom's place. He had rented an expensive penthouse near the area he was filming his new movie and you had tagged along with him, which meant you got to stay with him in his luxury penthouse, watch him film, and be a part of his celebrity lifestyle.

And, being his girlfriend, you were already a part of his celeb lifestyle, reaching low level celebrity status yourself on Instagram, gaining quite a few followers just for being in a relationship with Tom. But here, you got to see what it was really like.

Currently, it was a long day of work and you were finally relaxing with Tom, the both of you exhausted but still somehow awake, keeping each other company. You were both sprawled out in his California king bed, the sheets distraught and pulling in every which way. You were each half covered by the sheets and watching TV on the huge curved TV feet away from you.

Tom was shirtless with his arms sprawled out and a drink pressed to his lips, while you were cuddled into him, your head on his chest and your hands resting on his chest as well. His curls were a mess from filming all day and being out all day but he still looked good.

Next to you on the end table was a box of pizza that only had two slices left, considering the first thing you did when you got home only an hour ago was order a pizza and cuddle in the dark bedroom. The only lights in the room were coming from the glare of the TV screen. Tom spotted you still awake on his chest and hummed, kissing the top of your head and running his fingers through your hair,

"Oh, you're still awake. I thought for sure you'd passed out."

"Nope, still up," you said, blinking tiredly as fuzz was coming up in your eyes.

You wished you could say you were up because you weren't tired, but that was a lie, you both were. Tom was tired from filming and being out all day every day, and you were tired because you insisted on being by his side all day every day and being a supportive girlfriend. You wanted to be with Tom as much as possible, see it through that he was enjoying his career and just be able to experience the magic that was his acting.

But being Tom's girlfriend could be tiring, even if you just wanted to support as much as possible. Even though you had gained a few fans from being Tom's girl, you had also gained a lot more media attention than you had bargained for, and a lot of negativity.

The negativity surrounding you dating Tom wasn't a big deal, you didn't care much about that aspect of it. But you did care about the things people said about your physical appearance - first there were the people who were angry that you were a woman of color dating Tom, deemed unworthy for him simply because of your skin color.

Your friends had all said you were way out of his league and that Tom was lucky to even have the privilege of dating a woman of color, but some people on the internet had very strong opinions against that. Next, was the explicit body shaming you endured.

None of the hate was very terrible on either end but it hurt your heart a little when you posted a picture of yourself in a bathing suit or on the red carpet with Tom in a dress you thought was nice, and saw those blurbs of comments talking about how big your boobs were, the noticeable bit of stomach you had, your thick thighs or your cellulite.

It was embarrassing to have your body nit picked like that, and as much as you tried to tell yourself that none of those comments mattered and that you were beautiful no matter what other people tried to tell you, and that every body was beautiful, you still thought about those things from time to time.

The hate wasn't so excessive that anyone really seemed to notice, even Tom. He of course was too busy commenting heart eye and drooling emojis on every single one of your posts, and he never occupied himself with haters or negative energy, but he still wanted to protect you with every fiber of his being. So it wasn't that he was ignoring the hate or being dismissive of it, it was simply that he was too obsessed with you to even acknowledge that anyone else could hate you.

So, you were up, overthinking, as you sometimes did, all the comments that you got and all the hate messages you received, as few as there were, prowling your mind.

You looked up at him in search for his eyes, but he was distracted by the TV. So you patted his chest, your head still resting down on him and purred his name,

"Tom?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, looking down at you and going back to massaging your head.

You bit down on your lip tentatively, like you were scared of how he might react to what you were going to say,

"How do you deal with all the... the hate comments?"

Tom just smiled lightly and laughed, a bit confused,

"What do you mean, love?"

You shrugged nonchalantly as if none of this related to you, trying to sound as oblivious as possible, as if you were simply curious and not practically asking for advice,

"You know, like, people being mean to you and nasty for no reason? How do you deal with that? Like, getting mean comments or messages."

Tom shrugged too, as if this were no big deal to him,

"I mean, luckily, I don't get a lot of hate. But it definitely happens - every now and then there'll be some rude comment or something that makes me just a teensy bit sad. But then I perk up and remember it's all good. Because I have a beautiful life, with beautiful people around me and that person is probably just lacking beauty in their life, that's why they feel the need to comment mean things."

He could sense how you had paused, a slight tension rising in the air as you just sat there, and he looked down at you again, his strong hand now caressing your arm gently up and down. He could sense you were deep in thought, staring into the dim and darkness and thinking about nothing.

"Why? Something bothering you?" he asked, his tone concerned as he gazed down at you, stroking your arm and nuzzling his chin into the top of your head.

You looked up at him again and couldn't help the pout that had made its way onto your face, frowning,

"People say... mean things under my posts sometimes. Now that we've been out publicly. I didn't say anything to you because I didn't think you noticed and I didn't think it mattered that much, but it's been getting to me. Just a little."

Tom sat up a bit and cradled you in his arms slightly so you were still cuddling with him when he moved, furrowing his brows,

"What? Who's saying stuff? What are they saying?"

If you hadn't been so deep in thought you would've smiled, even laughed, at his sudden posture of concern and how fast he had gone from sleepy and unbothered to alert and concerned. But you were honestly just trying not to cry. It was probably the mixture of hurt from the comments you got and the fact that you were exhausted that was making you feel so emotional all of the sudden, but it was all coming to the surface now.

You had tucked away the feeling each of these hurtful comments gave to you, letting the hurt sit and soak in some locked away place for far too long, with no outlet to let out the way these comments made you feel about yourself. You had even become a bit self conscious in real life, gazing at yourself for longer than usual in the mirror when you were undressing, or wondering how your thighs really looked to other people when you sat down.

You even found yourself self conscious around Tom, even though you knew he loved every part of you for who you were. But sometimes in the bedroom you became careful of how you moved or what angle you were at, and although these moments didn't happen often, the fact that they occurred at all on account of the fact that those comments were stored somewhere in some tiny place in your mind was something to note.

You didn't want it to bother you at all, and you wished you were one of those people who could say it didn't bother you and mean it, but unfortunately you weren't. Still, you didn't want Tom to worry too much, so you just said it nonchalantly, as if it didn't bother you much,

"I dunno. Just random people... sometimes your fans who I guess aren't really your fans. They'll just comment, just... mean stuff."

"What mean stuff, babe?" Tom pried, and you cursed him for being so caring because you really didn't want him to worry so much, but you knew you shouldn't downplay anything or lie to him.

You almost felt like crying and Tom could tell from your very voice that you were holding back tears that had been brewing up inside of you for far too long,

"They just... they say things about us. Saying I don't deserve you because I'm not white, which is like, okay whatever fuck you. But then some people will nitpick and point out things about my body that I never even noticed. I know I'm not like, a fucking skinny Amazonian goddess, but I'm not a monster. Like, I never noticed my cellulite or my rolls or my stretch marks until after that."

You had let a tear shed, but you weren't thinking about Tom anymore, you were just letting your feelings free flow.

"It's like, those type of comments make you take a long, hard look in the mirror and they make me feel like picking at my entire body. It's like, it's not that many comments and I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but it's like the first time since grade school anyone has said anything about my body that has really stuck. You know? It hurts, even though I'm probably one of the most confident people I know."

It didn't even take a beat for Tom to start speaking once you finished. He shook his head slowly over and over and wrapped his arms around you.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Come here, baby," he said.

And with that, he lifted you up gently and placed you over his lap so you weren't cuddling your head into his chest anymore, but you were straddling him, your legs on either side of him. He was making direct eye contact with you even in the dark of the night and the dim lighting of your room. He placed his hands on your arms and was caressing your arms up and down gently.

"You... are beautiful," he said, his face so serious and yet so faithful that you knew he was telling you that you had better believe it.

Your entire body felt warm as he graduated from your arms to your waist, letting his hands run along your sides - you were in just a pair of boy briefs and a sheer blouse you only wore inside. His hands ran along every curve on your side, every part of you that you had been overanalyzing in the mirror due to comments, his hands seeming to possess some type of mending magic that made it okay again. Because he loved it all, and you did too, beneath all the comments that had been bogging you down.

"Yeah?" he said, less of a question than an agreement that he wanted you to acknowledge.

"Yeah," you said meekly, nodding gently, looking down into his eyes.

He positioned himself so he was leaning upright against his pillow and his hands gripped onto your sides so he could hold you in place, and he leaned forward to press soft kisses to your neck,

"Never let anyone tell you or make you think any different, okay?"

"I know, but-"

"Nope, no buts. You are definitely the sexiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on, okay, inside and out. And a lot of people want what you have, that's why they leave those comments. Or they're really sad about their lives, unlike the two of us. Those people that say those silly things like that are crocks of shit, honestly. And I know it's easier said than done, but you can't let that get to you, babe."

You pouted out of happiness, cooing,

"I love you."

"Love you too, darling. I'm serious though, do not ever let a stupid asshole, 'fan' of mine or not, make you feel less than. Hell, it's me who doesn't deserve you. I don't ever want you to look in the mirror and see anything less than what you are, which is a beautiful young lady who deserves the world. You're hardworking, smart, and you know what you want. Not to mention you're so supportive in everything I do, which is so much to ask for. So fuck them," Tom said, closing off beautifully.

Now you wanted to cry, this time for the right reasons. Your bottom lip quivered as you gazed into his eyes, and saw the admiration and want for you in his eyes, and heard the genuine tone behind his words.

"Baby, stop, you're gonna make me cry," you joked, chuckling a little.

"You're gonna make me cry," Tom said back to you, and you laughed at his ever so charming, personable personality. "Come here," he then said, his voice lower and less baby talk like.

"I'm here," you teased, smiling down at him playfully.

"I mean come here," he said, his hands traveling down to your butt as he pulled you closer onto his lap so you were straddling him directly on top of his crotch.

[ okkk folks we are entering smut zone if you do not wish to read the smutty part ]

He was wearing a hoodie and some boxers and you were thinking of how easy it would be to take both those things off of his body. His hands were traveling from your waist to your lower thighs and cupping your ass from time to time, and he was smiling mischievously, that sort of know it all smirk he had appearing on his face.

"Not to be possessive but I like knowing I'm the only guy who sees you like this. I mean really like this. You know how many guys would die to have you on top of them, and it's me who wins the jackpot?" Tom said, his teeth showing in his small smile.

"Oh yeah?" you challenged him playfully, smirking back.

"Hell yeah. Kinda crazy how that works, yeah?"

"Super crazy," you nodded, just giving in to whatever he said and giggling.

Before you knew it he had pressed his lips against yours and he was kissing up against your neck and speaking softly into your ear, already taking off your blouse with swiftness. You bit down on your lip, covering your chest with your arm because it was cold, and smiling cheekily down at him.

"You're so sexy," he said unashamedly, leaning back and surveying your body and how you looked with no top on, now wanting to see how you looked with nothing else on tonight.

You just giggled, used to Tom's comments during your times like this, but now it meant something more and you felt giddy inside. You looked down and started to palm him through his boxers. He was already getting hard but your touch made him grow rock hard beneath your palms, and the friction between the two of you made you both sweat.

You were leaving that girly mode and you both knew what you wanted, it was so clear. Tom's eyes, usually bright and animated, were now hooded and lustful, and you got a sense of excitement that you were the only one who got to see him like this.

You pulled at the collar of his hoodie and cocked your head to the side, surveying him, and asked,

"You want me? Only me?"

Tom nodded ever so seriously and you saw his jaw clench,

"Only you."

"Promise?" you teased him, kissing him right on the lips, a long kiss that would've lasted longer had you not pulled away first.

"Of course," he said, and his voice threatened to crack just because he was so in awe of you and the control you had over him - he didn't understand how anyone could say these things about you.

You slid out of your underwear, Tom's eyes immediately dipping low to the exposed skin, filled with lust and want once more, nearly salivating. He let his fingers drag absentmindedly along your clit, focusing on that one area and listening to your change in breathing patterns - he already knew what you liked but he always listened. He was rough and yet loving, two of his fingers grinding up against your clit in slow circles, making you erratic.

He looked up at you, though you were looking down at his hand, continuing those wicked, slow circles into your clit and in a lower voice than usual he said,

"I want you to ride me." When your only response was a whimper that stemmed from the stimulation he was giving you, he said, "Yeah?"

"Mm hm, I got it."

"And I want you to know you look fucking fantastic taking my dick, okay?" he pushed some of your hair behind your ear. "Really do it, okay?"

"God, yes," he stopped the motions against your clit and slid his hand away, placing his fingers in your mouth for you to suck.

"Good girl. So wet already."

You bucked your hips against his erection in his pants and he understood, sliding his sweats down until his erection sprang out, sitting against his stomach until he wrapped his hand around the base and made you scoot closer. To tease him, you grinded your hips up against the base of his dick, making it wet with your juices. You looked at him, head already hung back in bliss, and licked your upper lip with your tongue. That worked every time.

"Does that feel good, Tommy?" you asked him with a devilish grin on your face, your eyes teasing and inticing in the darkness of the room.

"Yes, baby, feels so good," he groaned, facing you again and watching your hips roll against him, your wet pussy smearing against his lower abdomen.

You took his dick into your hands again and cupped him in your hands, stroking him up and down with both hands closed around him, smirking at him. He was enjoying it, you could tell, his stomach rose and fell faster and he had to clear his throat abruptly. But he stopped you, placing his hands on your waist,

"Stop that, darling, you're gonna make me come already."

You tilted your head innocently,

"But don't you want to?"

He was placing soft kisses against your neck again, and squeezing your ass with his hands as he shook his head and in a low voice said,

"Not if it's not inside you."

You bit down on your lip when he said that and your heart jumped, and now you were bored of teasing him. You positioned yourself above his tip and he kept his hands tight around your waist as you let the head of his dick tease your entrance. You mewled out, your face contorting in pleasure, your mouth dropping open slightly,

"Baby that feels so good," you gasped, still not letting yourself drop all the way down.

Tom pressed his lips against yours and you let his tongue inside your mouth, kissing passionately until you found the sensation of his dick pressing against your flit too strong and had to do something. You dropped your hips down slowly onto him, taking in the whole of his head and the shaft until you dropped fully down onto the base of him.

You had already pulled apart from him in the kiss by the time you started to slide down, desperate moans leaving your lips. Tom on the other hand, has his jaw clenched fully and his eyes closed, his breathing heavy. You sunk down completely onto him and then circled your hips around him so you could feel all of him inside every part of you.

"Baby," you whimpered.

"Mm hm?" Tom answered back, his voice just as soft and weak.

"I can feel all of you inside of me, so fucking deep inside of me," you whined, rolling your hips once again as he hit all your spots.

"Yeah? You like when I fill you up, huh?" he sighed out and brushed some of your hair back, a question to which you had only physical responses as answers.

You licked your lips as you placed your hands down on his chest for support as you lifted yourself up and started to ride him, slowly at first and then picking up speed, your breaths becoming short, high pitched gasps. Tom was filling you so fucking well and at the same time, he felt your wet pussy around him and how warm you felt around him, fitting him like a glove.

Your walls surrounded his length and the feeling of your wet folds slicking against him, increasing lubrication made him cry out. He felt like he had something stuck in his throat as he kept swallowing, but he couldn't help but let a few deep groans escape his lips.

You felt his hands all over you, every part of you, touching and kissing and caressing your body as if to remind you how beautiful it all was and how much he enjoyed seeing it, especially like this. At one point he had his eyes shut closed, hand covering his forehead and temples and his mouth open, just moaning and grunting.

"Fuck, babe," he groaned out, breathing out unsteadily from his nose and

"I'm close, baby," you panted, practically digging your nails into his shoulders.

"Come for me, YN," Tom said, biting down on his lips. You started to slow your movements, going from bouncing on his dick when you came up to the top and then slowly grinding your hips forward once you sunk down onto him, a move that made him moan out and jerk his hips forward into you. "Fucking hell," he moaned out, closing his eyes once again. "Christ, YN," he chuckled out.

"This gets you every single time," you said, having to hold back a moan to laugh.

He laughed a bit,

"I'm a simple man."

But just a few moments later your casual talk became full of filth and praise yet again, Tom staying true to the purpose of you riding him and encouraging you to come. He didn't just start sex with you just to start it, he wanted to see you in your confident space again and when you were riding him, you were incredibly confident and comfortable.

You looked like a goddess on top of him and he wanted you to see that, wanted you to remember that no one else's opinion mattered. He liked the feeling of being dominated by you, and what better way to dominate than to be on top?

He started to praise you, his words filthy and somehow wholesome at the same time, making you want him to pound into you as you increased your speed as he spoke, slamming down onto him and putting you both into an ecstatic state.

"That's it babe, there you go darling," he said, smiling and smirking up at you, his eyes unashamedly focused on your breasts bouncing up and down each time you took him all in and then came up again. "You've always been incredibly good at this, YN, you know that?"

"Yeah? How long have we been dating again?" you giggled.

"Just over a year," Tom smirked. "And you always look so good taking all of me, don't you?"

You just whimpered in response, overwhelmed by his words and the feeling of him inside of you, your head rolling back and hair hanging behind your head.

"Yeah," Tom bit his lip with a mischievous smile and kept talking you up. "You look so beautiful doing something so filthy. You're so gorgeous, everything about you is, inside and out. Don't forget that."

"Tom," you moaned out his name, and he cocked his head, his hands now rubbing on your thighs and waist, holding onto you tight,

"Yes, love?"

"Don't stop, I'm gonna come," you moaned out, feeling the build up in your stomach and needing that final release to let it all go.

Tom inched his hand forward and started to rub slow circles on your clit, heightening every sensation you were feeling and making your stomach lurch with a feeling of euphoria. He was focused on his hand for a moment, but then looked up at you, his eyes deep and genuine but a small smirk on his face. It didn't even sound like him for a moment, when he casually noted,

"You should see yourself from this angle."

At that, you nearly made a full stop because of the earth-shattering orgasm you were experiencing, letting go everything that had been built up. You couldn't hear for a second, but from the look on Tom's face, your orgasm and clenching around him as you came continuously led him to his own orgasm. You were breathing hard and fast, feeling his hot pumps of cum spilling into you and dripping out of you at once.

You were already about to come, but it seemed like those words got you to that point. You had heard Tom say so many beautiful things to you, both in the bedroom and outside the bedroom, about you as a person, how much he liked your body, but he hadn't said anything quite like that before. It was something he noted so casually as if he were just making conversation but it drove you into a frenzy that made you practically short circuit. He had spun you into a web of wonders that you had never been in before, and his words were plastered in your mind.

To think that Tom liked to see you in such an unbridled state, hair messy, every bit of your body, every "flaw", nook and cranny visible to him - all your stretch marks, cellulite, fat, discoloration, everything that people took the time out of their day to make hateful comments about. To think that anyone could love all of it regardless of your own self doubts. You felt incredibly appreciated and flattered, as if this was his first time complimenting you.

He'd never said anything quite like that before, not in that voice, not with that satisfied, in awe look on his face. He was in awe of you, his eyes said that he thought you were an absolute angel. He wanted you to realize you were perfect in every way, that all your growth didn't have to do with your physical form but the even better person you became.

You had both slowed a while ago, and now you were just cockwarming him, your hips sunk down entirely on him. You were still throbbing from your orgasm and you could feel him pulsing inside of you. Tiredly, he murmured,

"Baby, get up. I wanna see what a mess we made."

Slowly, whimpering all the same, you slid up off his dick and let his cum spill out of you and onto his abdomen. Your clit was throbbing at the sight and you just wanted to lick him clean, even with how tired you were. And so you did, and he was moaning doggedly and maneuvering your head gently with his hand as you sucked him clean of your taste, and then shared a full lipped kiss with him that lasted for quite some time in the darkness.

You were still in a disarray but your thoughts were coming together, slowly now. You were entirely naked and you lay there resting for a moment, but Tom stayed up next to you with his arm around you because you murmured how you "still wanted to talk" after you got a nap.

After a few minutes you woke up, and feeling confident, you didn't feel the need to cover up. You let Tom clean you up with a cloth and put new underwear on, then curled right up into his lap. He had wiped the sweat off his forehead and body and was wearing boxers now, and you sat down on his lap, straddling his abdomen.

"I love you," Tom said, kissing your forehead. "So much."

"I love you too, Tommy," you smiled and kissed his lips shortly. "I'm so glad I have you."

"Me too, darling," he snuggled his nose against yours. He was holding your hands and playing with his fingers when he said. "Babe?"

"Yeah?" you brought his hand up to your lips and kissed it.

"You came so hard, like, I've never felt you come that hard before."

"Really?" you smirked. "You know, it was all you. When you said that... I kind of lost it."

"Said what?" Tom chuckled. "I've got short term memory after that incredible experience."

You giggled and bit down on your lip,

"You said (you impersonated his accent), 'you should see yourself from this angle.' You know, you've never said anything quite like that to me. Sure, you've said a lot of hot things but this was something different. I think I short-circuited."

"Really? You liked that that much?" Tom asked slyly, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. "Maybe I should do it more often then," he said, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling down slowly, his voice muffled.

You laughed and pulled away,

"I'm definitely inviting you to. And hey... thanks. For what you said, just, everything you said. I needed it."

"No, you don't need me to tell you that you're beautiful. You already know that, sometimes people just get into our heads. But we're not going to let that happen anymore, right?"

"Hell no. Fuck em."

"Fuck em," Tom said. He seemed to get an idea as he cocked his head. "In fact..." he grabbed his phone next to him. "I'm going to post a picture of you right now. From this very magnificent angle."

You giggled,

"Tom. I'm naked. And it's dark."

"Yeah but iPhones have got flash for a reason. And you can cover yourself with your arm. Or I can just take a picture of you and not post it. Or nothing at all. It's your body," Tom said, shrugging, but the way he was acting, how badly you could tell he wanted this photo of you at this angle for safe keeping was a turn on and you appreciated the gesture so much.

You laughed,

"Okay, I'll let you post it. But isn't this a bit scandalous for your Instagram followers? And Marvel?"

Tom shrugged,

"If they can hate on you they can see you on top of me, I think."

You snorted and posed for the picture, just a simple sly smile to the camera with your hands covering your breasts, a picture Tom snapped of you from the waist up.

"Now that's photography," Tom said, and he uploaded it to Instagram with the caption "my girl ♡" and watched the internet grow in flames in the span of ten minutes.

You spent the rest of the night cuddling and sleeping in each others arms, and from then on, no amount of hate comments could ever put you down.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #marvel #smut #woc!reader

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