#Rebloggable. Put my body where you want it.

[followedhomethenkilled]

Wore this to pride a couple days ago. 🗡️ he/him

[zhongrin]

honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?

© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff

✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.

al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”

wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”

neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.

childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?

kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”

diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ���luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”

tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[nirikeehan]

Margaret Atwood Poetry Prompts

Compiled by me from her collection Power Politics. This version is rebloggable. Feel free to use as you wish!

You fit into me like a hook into an eye. 

I can change myself more easily than I can change you. 

In the half light your body stutters against me, tentative as moths; your skin is nervous.

I don’t want to hurt you any more now than I have to.

Staying closed is less pain, but your anger is finally more dangerous.

What do you expect after this? Applause? Your name on stone? 

You will have nothing but me and in a worse way than before.

It would be so good if you’d only stay up there where I put you; I could believe you’d solve most of my religious problems.

I rest here without power to save myself, tasting salt in my mouth, the fact that you won’t save me.

Which of us will survive the other?

The things we say are true; it is our crooked aims, our choices turn them criminal.

Of course your lies are more amusing: you make them new each time. 

Your truths, painful and boring, repeat themselves over & over, perhaps because you own so few of them.

If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?

Because we have no history, I construct one for you.

You refuse to own yourself. You permit others to do it for you.

Fists have many forms; a fist knows what it can do without the nuisance of speaking: it grabs and smashes.

Language, the fist proclaims by squeezing, is for the weak only.

You attempt merely power, you accomplish merely suffering.

How long do you expect me to wait while you cauterize your senses, one after another, turning yourself to an impervious glass tower?

How long will you demand I love you?

Next time we commit love, we ought to choose in advance what to kill.

There is no way I can lose you when you are lost already.

[ghostslimu]

introduction 2.0 the updated edition

UPDATE: art account wooo!! @ghostslimu-art hi! this used to be a system blog but turns out we have a lot more to say! cw a lot of text. like, a wall of text. sorry formatting not my hobby

(scroll a little for DNI)

about me ("host" or rather, most frequent fronter): - i go by virgil (or mika), he/him - 18 (body's age) - in a lot of (pretty mainstream, sorry) fandoms but will probably never talk about them here - transmasc (mostly binary, just some guy) bi and on the aroace spectrum!! - in an (outer system) poly relationship with 2 dudes who have no idea this blog exists - formally diagnosed with a lot of stuff but that's none of your business - i write! very rarely also draw - i like horror and romance and sometimes fantasy!!

about the whole system: - we don't have a system name sadly sorry - a lot of alters, even more fragments (50+) - traumatized, putting the dissociative and disorder in DID. being a system is, generally for us, not all that fun - no collective stance on syscourse, so don't ask us about it. each alter is entitled to their own opinion, and most of us just don't care enough to have one, sorry - all information on introjects and littles will be kept off this blog for our own safety, unless they want to participate in posting in the future! - we want to reblog more but are often too shy to interact with other people #socialanxiety, so this blog is mostly just a collection of our stream of consciousness, sorry about that. this is less of a social media profile and more of an archive - all posts are rebloggable and can be reblogged by anyone no need to even ask

strict DNI: - basic criteria. racists, antisemites, homophobes, maps, terfs, etc. - believe in "narcissistic abuse" or "borderline abuse" or any other "disorder + abuse" format - fakeclaimers - porn blogs

loose DNI (aka "it depends"): - proshipper, the term is so broad it can mean whatever so to make it clear: if you fetishize and glamorize incest or pedophilia, that's gross. if you just want to ship problematic (consenting) couples, that's fine!! if you write or read about heavy disturbing topics with critical thought, that's also fine - aesthetic blogs, if you're just here to reblog our vents. our suffering isn't pretty - strong opinions on syscourse, because we won't be able to collectively agree with you. if you only follow strictly pro or anti blogs, then this one might not be for you!! - young people. generally, there won't be anything explicitly 18+ on here, but please beware and follow at your own risk!! also, if you're too young to be on this site, you're also too young to follow. we feel most comfortable with people/systems who are (bodily) 18+ - ed blogs. i get it, i've been formally diagnosed. if you relate to a mental health post, you relate to it. feel free to reblog, just don't add any triggering commentary to any of our posts, thank u system members (here's where there used to be picrews but our appearances fluctuate so frequently, there's not much sense to that): kurt - caretaker/manager/fronting gatekeeper - 27 - he/him salem - former persecutor/now protector - 16 - she/they griffin - protector - 16 - he/they mici - headspace gatekeeper/archivist - ageless - they/he/she meta (formerly bunny) - former little - ageless - they/them svi - persecutor - 17 - he/they freddie - protector - 20-something - he/him the rest won't use this blog/are kept private for safety reasons!! please do not ask about them unless we're friends!! also keep in mind that we don't sign off as we're often blurry and it's just too much work!

[madeimpact]

just a headcanon question for you for some deep thoughts, have you ever thought about what happened to sora's parents whether or not they're alive after the events of the first game?

Interesting that you ask this, because this is something I want to explore more and part of the reason I reblogged this meme! I'd like to develop Sora's parents into fully fleshed, named (mayyyybe designed?) OCs / guest muses on the blog at some point, but for now, have me projecting the thoughts that have been knocking around in my brain, in glorious word soup form.

Putting this under a cut because WOWIE it got really long, sorry about that!

We're working with crumbs here, but based one one line of dialogue for each parent, his mother was attentive to Sora's needs and could tell when things were wrong (yes I'm extracting this from "Sora, dinner's ready,") and his father was present enough in his life that he was rowing Sora and Riku to the play island as kids.

So, honestly...I feel like Sora's family is about what one would expect of a happy, healthy family. Mom and Dad in a happy marriage, well enough off to support one kid, loving and doting parents. Nothing really remarkable. The Aono family is just about as standard as standard can get.

And then, y'know, KH1 happened.

Here's what we know:

Destroyed worlds show up in the Realm of Darkness.

Some of a world's denizens are scattered to worlds in the Realm Between, like Traverse Town.

Someone who becomes a Heartless (+optionally, Nobody, if their heart is strong enough) and is then defeated goes to where it originally happened in order to be recompleted (or their heart/body dissolves to darkness to wait for the other component to be freed).

If the world where it originally happened isn't available, they go to a world like Traverse Town.

Selphie, Wakka, and Tidus are all alive and well after KH1, albeit with no memory of Sora.

Knowing ALL OF THIS, I think Sora's parents are alive and well, and may even potentially have some knowledge about their son's world-hopping adventures. It's possible that they appeared in Traverse Town at one point, but we never see them there (this is probably just on account of the game not deeming it necessary, but it's interesting to consider from an in-universe standpoint...). So, I think one of a few things could have happened:

After the Islands were destroyed, Sora's parents ended up in Traverse Town, perhaps in one of the districts that aren't accessible until DDD.

Sora's parents fell with the Islands and were sort of suspended in "sleep" for as long as the Islands were in the Realm of Darkness. They awoke to little to no memory of the Islands' destruction. I imagine something like this probably happens to most whose worlds get destroyed, or there'd be no order to preserve.

Sora's parents were defeated by and subsequently became Heartless during the destruction of the Islands. At some point, Sora defeated their Heartless (knowingly? Unknowingly? Shit, I didn't think about the angsty implications) and freed their hearts for eventual restoration, either in Traverse Town or on the Islands once they were restored. If I were to go with this, the degree to which they remember it all could be up in the air.

One thing I'm pretty settled on (primarily just because I love the angst of this trope, sue me) is that they were alive during KH2, and like Kairi, had only very faint memories of Sora, and even those were starting to fade. But they knew that they were missing something very important. There was an ache in their hearts, a hole whose shape was painfully familiar and yet they couldn't put a name to it...

By the end of KH2, Sora has probably come clean to them about the world-hopping stuff, if they didn't already remember their experiences during KH1. Donald probably objects to this. Sora loves his parents and trusts them to keep his secrets, so lol.

That's kinda all I've got right now and I'd love to flesh them out more / solidify their stories through the meme I reblogged! I'm not 100% married to any of these ideas just yet, but I love piecing things together like this based on teeny tiny lines we get in canon.

Finally, I want to shoutout this artist, who made it excruciatingly difficult to not just steal Eimi (/j) for the blog canon. Seriously, this woman imprinted herself on my brain and now is inextricably tied to the idea of Sora's mother for me, but I'm taking that energy and putting it towards a stab at my own interpretation! Just wanted to shout them out because I love their take on her.

[sereniv]

i managed to talk myself into picking some stuff up

conversation went similar to this (not all exact wording but the jist) in case its helpful to anyone especially if you have executive dysfunction or anxiety or depression and have a hard time getting things done. rebloggable if helpful

"just get up and pick some things up"

"but theres so much and itll make me exhausted"

"just throw away only trash thats easy to home in on theres not much to figure out with cough drop wrappers"

"but ill get tired im tired thinking about it. how do i even start?"

"first look at the area you want to pick up. do it right now. normalize it take your time looking at each item"

"im atarting to get overwhelmed and a headache i cant manage that rn. im going to get too tired"

"are you tired enough to sleep?"

"no"

"are you tired enough to get up to go to the bathroom?"

"no"

"pretend like you have to go to the bathroom. and bring the toilet paper in. thats all you have to do. on your way in"

"how do i get up?"

"breathe. move your fingers. move your toes. move until you get used to the idea of moving. roll a little, or rock. hum in your chest its too quite for us. its too stagnant"

eventually i was able to losen myself up and sit in bed. i kept reminding myself that i just have to do one thing and that can be on the way to do something i always do which is go to the bathroom

"get up and go to the bathroom

get up and go to the bathroom and stop stop, get the toilet paper. grab it. pull it with you"

i reminded myself that the moment i felt too tired exhausted fatigued i could drop it all and lay back down.

but i gave my self a condition. That if i cant bring in the toilet paper then i dont get to go to the bathroom. (i didnt have a urgent need to go)

I told myself i could also pick up one wrapper or one tissue and throw it away. or if i had a problem bending down i could close some drawers

i reminded myself that even the smallest thing once in a while adds up. if i picked up one tissue a day. every other day. 1 tissue a week, eventually my room will be cleaner

i kept bringing my attention back. because i would get overwhelmed. But i told myself to ignore everything block everything out except one item like a cough drop wrapper

and this was before i got up. once i got up i stood. i told myself to take a deep breath and that if i wanted to sit back down i could

but i was up, and i reminded myself that ive checked off one thing off the list. if i sit back down its ok, because i got myself up.

i reminded myself my room has been a mess for months. and that whats another month of it being messy, except now that month will be filled with constant attempts and praise of those attempts

and at the end of the month if i picked up one wrapper that can still be considered a success especially compared to previous months where i didnt make any attempts

so i got up and i stood there. i told myself to move my fingers and my toes and my neck and my arms

normalize body movements while standing up, especially when its quiet it can make me feel stagnant and its hard to have controlled movements (as in not just routine like going to the bathroom)

standing up felt like i could actually do something. it felt different from laying down, laying down was too comfortable and made me not want to get up

but now i was up and i loosened my muscles enough.

"how are you feeling?"

"ok but its so tempting to lay back down again but i want to get something done i feel bad"

"its okay to lay back down you know that right?"

"but i feel bad for not doing something"

"getting up is doing something"

"im going to attempt to take the toilet paper"

and once i started moving it kind of set into place and i was able to pick up a few things, more than i expected.

because being overwhelmed or feeling bad about not being able to do something makes you forget how easy something is or how not scary or bad it is

so i ended up not needing to keep talking myself up, and was able to put the toilet paper away

i also had conversation about my clothes:

"i want to move my bed but i cant because theres dirty clothes on the floor and a box i have to get rid of and a basket of clothes that are clean that i have to go through what do i do? how do i do all that? its so much. where do i put my dirty clothes"

"put the clothes in the box. you dont know where to put the box yet, so dump all the clothes you find even clean ones in the box. its ok to wash ones that are clean. the box can then go in the corner, and you deal with that later"

so put the clothes in the box. and moved it to the corner. immediately i see more clear space and socks scattered. i reminded myself to focus on the dirty clothes which were easy to home in on. and the scarf and anything else considered clothing even stuff i knew i hadnt worn (clean).

seeing the carpet less cluttered made my brain calm down. it made it easier

and i didnt do more, even though i felt like i could

keep your energy. keep doing it this way. you did a little, and i know you can do more. but you dont need to take this opportunity. you dont need to rush. you dont need to go until youre worn out. you are allowed to do the bare minimum and you are allowed to not do your best. because sometimes doing your best saps your energy ao you only can do your best a few times. if you do your least, you can do your least more.

So yeah ive been trying to break things down, and go through the repetitive nature of anxiety and executive dysfunction. its a baby. it cant figure these things out and its like going around in circles

but you repeat yourself and are kind and remind yourself that even moving a finger can be enough for now, and eventually that like 10 minute or more conversation can normalize these things

can break through the problem. treat your anxiety and your depression and your executive dysfunction and overwhelmeness like a little kid. whos scared, whose confused. who needs to have things repeated. who needs reasurence and praise. be patient

i feel good. i picked up some trash and put toilet paper away and dumped clothes into a box. i went farther then i expected. and i stopped even though i could do more and im glad i stopped.

your conversations might take longer half hour. an hour. but it has to be encouraging. not rushing. explain to yourself. ask yourself questions.

how are you feeling? why? break it down for yourself like a child. you deserve patience and kindness. you deserve to have your hand held and to be praised by you.

[stormblessed95]

Hi I’m tiny chair/Rosebowl anon omg. I want to clarify to the rebloggers that I wasn’t calling Rosebowl platonic at all. Jk is clearly wrapped around Jm. I also want to clarify that I didn’t mean I saw the chin physically « stuck to » the ear. I mean to me it looks like while JK has his lips against ear, chin is obscured behind shell of the ear, and when he pivots his head forward, I see the ear catching on the chin and then the chin push forward past ear where you see it as lips pulling away

I really really want to see a video of someone who put their chin on someone else's ear and manages to make it pull upward and away from that person's head. Not just push forward or fold over. Catch me trying this with my husband later to try and recreate this movement with ears and chins only....

Another angle for you all. Where is his second lip? Because I see his top lip, then when he drags his mouth off the ear, I can see the bottom lip appearing from behind the ear. The ear does put push forward, it tugs out and up from the head, following the path of Jungkook's mouth. If that was the work of his chin, it literally would have HAD to somehow be stuck to his chin, otherwise according to physics and the way the human body works, his ear could not have moved that way unless dragged. Either by sticky substance from the chin where they got attached, or by mouth.

Jungkook caged Jimin in. Leaned down and whispered something. Sat back up, cupped his head, leaned back down and put Jimin's ear in his mouth. Then when he pulls off, he gives a light kiss to the side of his head.

You are going to see whatever it is you see though in the end, but telling us that it didn't happen... just isn't it. The whole chin thing was started by tkkrs anyway. And it just literally physically does not make sense. Ears don't move that way on their own, not even with the presence of something blunty pushing on it from behind. Seriously. Give a try with someone if you want. Please see if your chin can move their ear out, not just down.

[demonsfate]

      𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐄𝐑  𝐍𝐖𝐎  𝐘𝐌  𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐁  𝐃𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐒  𝐈  ,𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐖  𝐘𝐌  𝐓𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐀

      𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓  𝐌𝐘  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋,  𝐈  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄  𝐌𝐘  𝐎𝐖𝐍  𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

indie   jin  kazama  &&  devil  jin  of  the  tekken  series.  as  fought  by  wikia canon  divergent  (i  have  beef  with  TK6  ok)  and  hc  based READ  ABOUT  HERE  ||  OPEN  TAG  ||  RULES  UNDER  CUT.

MUTUALS  + FOLLOWING

I’ll only interact if we follow each other. However, non-mutuals can still like posts, reblog posts, & send me asks if they desire to. I only want to thread with mutuals because it’s less stressful.

I’m likely to softblock if your blog’s content makes me uncomfortable. If you decide to unfollow, please SOFTBLOCK me. Because I may not realize you unfollowed, and I may attempt interaction.

As for DUPLICATES? I don’t mind following other Jins, and I’ll happily interact with them! It could be multiverse, or twin AU. Hell, I could just play Devil and you could play Jin or vice versa!

This blog is very accepting of OCs and crossovers!

I am now completely stuck with Beta Editor as Tumblr has removed the option to switch to Legacy. Because of this, I solely write with Beta.

CANON DIVERGENCE

I try to adhere to canon. However, I have my own headcanons, theories, and takes that make my Jin unique from canon. I also hate how Tekken 6 handled Jin’s character. He was uncharacteristically cruel, and his “plot” made little sense. It also defeats the original purpose of his character and why I love him so much. So while this blog still acknowledges 6, it was Devil Jin who started the war, and was in control of Jin’s body throughout all the events - Jin has NOTHING to do with it - Jin only gained strength and took back control near the very end, where he defeats Azazel. Thus, Jin’s own memories of 6, and the characters involved, are foggy or nonexistent.

Jin and Devil Jin are not the same person - Devil Jin isn’t just Jin, but he’s corrupted by the “devil gene.” In my depiction, Devil Jin is a separate entity who is parasitic and shares the same body as Jin.

Speaking of which - although this is, technically, a dual muse blog - if muse isn’t specified, then the default will always be Jin (as, he’s usually the one in control with the exception of TK6′s events) unless I feel the interaction fits Devil Jin or your muse has a more established relationship with Devil.

I don’t adopt movies (live action, OVA, or blood vengeance) the anime (bloodline) comics, or any adaptations in my canon. I only follow (most of) game canon, as trying to piece together the adaptations is too difficult as they’re very inconsistent with the games’ lore, and considered non-canon, too. However, I may cherry pick little things from adaptations if I see them fitting.

NSFW + Triggering content

Posts may contain some triggering content, frequent ones that’ll pop up are abuse/neglect, suicidal thoughts/ideation, and cannibalism may be one - even if Devil Jin isn’t a human, he still has a humanlike appearance. I try to tag all triggers. I refuse to write incest, or p*dophilia too. I will block you if you write these contents because they make me very uncomfortable.

Smut threads will be present. If I put them under a readmore only depends on if my partner does it or not. But I’ll always tag them as “spicy” - since Tumblr likes to block the tag “NSFW” and that makes it difficult to find posts tagged it for later.

GODMODDING + METAGAMING

Godmodding is a no and metagaming is also a no

SHIPPING

This blog is multiship. I’m okay with pre-established relation/friendships as long as they’re plotted first - or, as for friendship, as long as it’s already established in canon itself. (Such as Xiaoyu and Hwoarang.)

REBLOGGING

Anything but threads are rebloggable! Because typically my partners don’t like threads to be reblogged. Mutual or not, you’re free to reblog my ooc posts, my shitposts, memes, my art (highly encouraged!) I don’t mind at all!!! 🥺🥺🥺 Also, if you sent in a meme or anything in the inbox, you’re very free to turn it into a thread.

MUN DOES NOT EQUAL MUSE

I’m not Jin or Devil Jin - please don’t get mad at me (the mun) or assume I share the same beliefs because of my muses’ statements or actions.

GRAPHICS + ICONS

All graphics used on this blog are made by me unless stated otherwise. 

MUN

Hi hi hi! I am the mun, you can call me by Wikia or anything, I am 25 years old. If you made it down here, I just wanna say that there’s no password to send and thank you for reading and respecting my rules! I hope to write with you soon. ❤︎

[newtxtinaforever]

Happy Birthday Tina!

Hello there! Today's one shot is sponsored by @neighborhood-newtina-reblogger, a tumblr that I greatly admire. Okay, it's not technically sponsored by the blog, but it did provide the prompt/idea for this one shot, which I will include at the very end in case you want to know what it is. Also, the fanart above belongs to @sydsketch and partially inspires my fanfic as well. Don't want to put the prompt at the beginning and spoil the story, so without further ado, I hope you enjoy this little piece of my Newtina heart. Oh, and happy birthday Tina! ☺️

3rd POV

"Oh, Newt. She's perfect!" Tina exclaimed happily, a smile brightening up her usually tense features. It wasn't that the American witch held a grudge against smiling or having fun; quite the opposite, in fact. She was so used to being responsible that her default look was to come across as a professional who took her job seriously. When she was with Newt, however, she couldn't help but smile. His light-hearted nature simply had a way of making her feel like she could let her guard down and didn't have to worry about what kind of person Newt was. Having fought alongside him in the fight against Grindelwald, Tina knew she could trust Newt. It was a good thing because he had just given her a creature to call her own.

"Really? That's wonderful to hear. I hoped you would like her but I wasn't completely sure if you would be interested in-" Newt was quickly interrupted by Tina's warm words of gratitude. "I love her, Newt. Thank you," she replied. Her eyes sparkled with a light reminiscent of the creature that currently rested in its small glass case. "What's her name?" Tina asked softly as she admired the speckled salamander. Newt blushed before replying, "Well, I thought you might like to name her seeing as she's yours." Both pairs of eyes connected for the briefest of moments.

"Of course!" Tina blurted, although she soon regained her composure. "I'm not quite sure where to start, but I'm sure we can think of something." Newt's tender smile at Tina's inclusion of the word 'we' went unnoticed for the most part, yet the tone of their environment was clearly evident. It was nearly impossible to miss the delicate care each person felt for the other, so alive and tangible was it. The silence that settled in during certain moments of the conversation were not uncomfortable, but peaceful instead. Surprisingly enough, Newt was the next one to speak up.

"Keegan," he uttered cryptically. Tina tilted her head to the right by a dozen degrees. "Who?" she wondered aloud, her sharp eyes fixed on Newt. The famous magizoologist remained quiet for several seconds until Tina cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was simply suggesting Keegan as a name, but I understand if you don't like it. She's yours, so feel free to choose whatever name you feel is best."

Tina lowered her gaze to the ground, then extended her head upward. "The name's fine, Newt. And I want you to be included in the naming process, trust me," she said with reassurance in her voice. Newt smiled. "What about Thea? She's the Greek goddess of light, which is fitting since salamanders feed off of fire, right?" Tina inquired. She waited for a response from Newt, but he appeared not to have heard her. Beginning to wonder if something was wrong with him, Tina repeated the end of her previous sentence. "Right, Newt?"

The man in question displayed signs of life after what seemed like forever. His nose was scrunched as if he had caught a whiff of rotting maggots while his eyes blinked ferociously. What was going on? Tina prompted Newt to explain his behavior, although it took some serious persuading. "The name sounds a bit like... well... like Theseus, my brother." Tina nodded her head in agreement and decided to move on. The last thing she wanted was for her new companion to remind Newt of his older brother.

"Perhaps you might consider Idris. It's Welsh and can mean 'fiery' depending on the language." Newt explained gently. His voice was rich and full of childlike wonder, much to Tina's delight. It was rare to find such a kindred spirit in a world where brute strength and power was often congratulated. Tina tried not to let her emotions become too obvious as she lovingly murmured, "I think Idris is a lovely name. Thank you, Newt." Once again, both pairs of eyes connected and lingered; the result was pure fascination and ultimately love.

With their eyes still fixed on each other, Tina closed the space between them. Her long, thin arms wrapped themselves around the middle of Newt's back. Much like their prolonged glances, this embrace was personal and private, something that was special between them. Tina was keenly aware of Newt's reservations regarding the hug, so she made sure to take baby steps while reassuring Newt at the same time. Her fingers brushed lightly against Newt's back, the warmth from her hands radiating through his pale blue shirt. With a great amount of hesitance and care, Tina tightened her grip on Newt. Hopefully he wouldn't feel uncomfortable; that was the last thing Tina wanted. Nevertheless, she held on to him, refusing to let go just yet.

Nearly a minute had passed before Newt reciprocated the hug. Unbeknownst to Tina, his eyes watered and a huge grin spread across his face. Both sets of arms rested gently on the other's back, a sign of peace and acceptance. It didn't take long for Tina to pull Newt in closer, more confident this time. Any lingering doubt as to whether or not Newt would perceive such intimate physical contact to be desirable was gone. She knew that he would understand just as she had learned to understand the roundabout way he comforted and complimented her.

With an overflowing heart, Newt Scamander enveloped Tina in his arms; pure, sentimental emotion surrounded them. Every part of him wanted nothing more than to freeze that moment and remember it forever. Not only was it rare for Newt to desire physical contact, but it was also rare for him to feel so content as a result of it. In Tina, Newt found appreciation and compassion. Despite miscommunication being a continuous issue between them, the two old souls always managed to make things right. If Newt was honest, Tina completed him — to a certain extent. He hadn't felt that his life was 'less than' without her, but he did notice a change whenever she was around, whether physically or in Newt's thoughts. She was someone who helped him restore his jaded view of humanity, and for that, Newt was grateful.

The embrace continued for several more minutes, Newt mentally recording what it felt like to be so close to Tina.

The scent of her hair, the touch of her hands. Newt was so mesmerized that he even dared to lift Tina off the ground, just a couple inches, and spin her very gently. It was instinct and had occurred before he could stop himself. Never before had he allowed his emotions to come off so strongly in the presence of another human being, and he had to admit: it felt freeing.

As for Tina, she experienced similar sentiments during their embrace. Mind racing, heart soaring... Since when did Newt display such sudden outbursts of affection? While Tina was slightly confused by this, she didn't question it because of her elation. If Newt was comfortable enough to be so physically close with her, she took it as a sign of growth and was proud of him. Each second that passed served as a reward earned by the energy both had spent in order to fight against the evil forces that threatened wizards and muggles alike. After years of fighting, Newt and Tina were given a moment of reprieve. A moment to be still, but more importantly, to be happy.

For Newt, happiness took the form of feeding his creatures. This was nothing new, but having Tina by his side — her eyes full of adoration — made the event much more enjoyable. For Tina, growing closer to Newt served as her main source of happiness, although she also happened to find it in the pursuit of wizardkind's most elite criminals. After all, being an Auror was an important part of Tina's life. The fact that her devotion to justice nearly managed to get her killed was unfortunate, yet Tina had put it in the past where it belonged. She needed her job because it allowed her to protect innocent lives, and that was something Tina would never stop pursuing. Whether it was a sideways smile or a lengthy yet tender hug, both Newt and Tina were fond of the little things in life as well as each other. Nothing, not even Grindelwald, could take those feelings away from them.

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

Author's Note: Below is the prompt for the above one shot ⬇️⬇️

I want Tina to initiate newtina’s first embrace. And I want it to happen in a happy context. I want her to realize that maybe Newt isn’t bold enough just yet to make that move, so she takes control and latches onto him. It won’t be like when Theseus hugged him, arms and back stiff the whole time. It will be at first, while he takes a few seconds to process what’s happening. In those few seconds, Tina is fully aware he’s processing the situation, so she holds him even tighter to reassure him that yes, she’s here. She wants this. She will wait. And once he finally accepts that, I want Newt to reciprocate her embrace with an enormous grin on his face (bonus points for misty eyes). I want him to wrap his arms around her back and tentatively return her gesture. Tina pulls even tighter to erase that last bit of questioning how far he should go. Then, Newt fully wraps her up in him, encasing her with his arms and body as completely as he can (bonus points for a little pick up and spin or something extra cute like that). And they stay like that for a while, just appreciating each other. Wordlessly processing their emotions. Surrendering to their feelings. Just being together like they want.

[aqvarius]

HLITF: This is not the story of your first night: Soma - otona love - chapter 5 summary/translation

two chapters in one day? who is this queen of productivity?! it’s me, adhd tea, hyperfocussing on my newest obsession. if you missed it, you can find the previous chapter translated here or check my new translations page to read from the beginning. my translations masterpost is not rebloggable or mobile-friendly yet but i will update when i make one! otherwise, you can always just search the tag “summary” or “translation” on my blog or follow the links in my previous chapter posts to find the previous posts.

anyway, reading and translating this chapter today too was so worth it, because i can say for sure that this is probably the smuttiest and most explicit chapter of hlitf i’ve ever read in my entire life. it’s also a loooong one. 

here we are, in my favourite bathroom in the world. 

“mm, it smells good,” you say. you were successfully led to take a bath together and you feel so healed...

soma explains that these bath salts are supposed to be a blend of herbs that relieves fatigue. you comment that the aroma seems to be very effective. soma says that the moisturising ingredients are perfect, so your skin will be smooth. 

“my arm is caressed in the hot water, and my heart pounds a little.”

“but his hands slowly rise up and he tenderly loosens my shoulders.” 

you think “oh what, it was just a massage...” you feel relieved, but somehow also disappointed. (lmao what a thirsty girl. hlitf mc has the highest libido of any voltage mc out there.)

“but it feels good...”

soma comments that you’re pretty stiff. you reply that it feels so good you’re dizzy, so soma says “then shall we get up and wash our bodies?” as he said it, you were lifted up and your voice came out a little louder. 

“it’s embarrassing to be princess carried while naked...”

you get placed onto a bath chair. soma, crouching behind you, gets the soap and lathers it. “is he going to wash me?” you think

“um, i can wash myself,” you say, but he tells you to let him do it. he turns your body back [that had turned to him when you talked to him] and he strokes some foam down your shoulder. 

“the way he’s using his hands is a little... suspicious”

your eyes meet soma’s, who is lathering up your whole body from behind, in the mirror.

soma: “it seems that washing with bare hands is the best way to protect your skin”

slkdjf;alskjdfal ahaskjdslkjsda!!!

you agree, but say that it’s a little ticklish. he says that your blood circulation is improved when it’s like this and you’re like "ahh i wonder if that’s true...?” as you tilt your head, soma smiles.  

soma: “raise your arms a little”

“when i do as i was told, soma’s hand that was gliding wraps around my breast.”

“with a cushion of foam, he gently strokes the sensitive tip”

“my heartbeat is pounding loudly, but soma-san’s supple hands leave my chest and slide down to my stomach.”

“he washes my whole body like this, stroking me, and then finally rinses me off carefully.”

“next is shampoo,” he says and you’re like “i can wash my hair by myself!” but he says there’s no need to be reserved. so you’re like “then onegaishimasu”. he smiles at you and you decide to be honest. you think he’s being really kind today. he’s always kind, but he’s thoroughly smart. even in the bathtub, he didn’t come onto you teasingly/meanly like you thought he would. 

“what’s wrong?” soma asks. you say it’s nothing... 

lathering plenty of shampoo, soma laughs a little for some reason and you wonder what he’s smiling about.

i have to just interject here because let’s be honest, we all know soma is setting a trap. of course he’s kind and caring and loves pampering his gf but we all know our favourite high libido mc is going to crack at some point if he doesn’t make a move, and we all know that’s what he wants to happen!! i’m sure he just wants her to admit that she loves when he’s mean. 

anyway, soma, who took care of you even after bathing, rushes you into bed. he even held the dryer for you and dressed you in pyjamas... 

you’re so scared that you become exhausted? (i don’t really know what this line is supposed to mean: “怖いくらいに至れり尽くせりだったなぁ” someone help me pls)

he brushes your freshly washed hair and kisses you on the neck. 

soma: “you smell good”

“is it the same scent as soma-san?”

soma: “your scent is special”

(😍😍😍)

“[his] kiss that descended from the nape of my neck traces my collarbone and goes further down.”

he unbuttons your pyjamas, and the underwear that had just been put on is stripped off. 

soma: “you shouldn’t have put it on if it was just going to be removed immediately” 

with a soft smile, soma gently kisses the top of your chest. you moan and he presses a kiss to your lips as if to catch a small sigh that leaked from you. 

“while our hot tongues entangle with each other’s, his fingertip stimulates the tip of my chest again.”

soma gently narrows his eyes at you when you press your lips together. 

soma: “[you’re] cute”

“that’s it...?”

“he’s not saying “it’s getting hard” ... or “[you’re already] like this” ...”

 you get kind of embarrassed hearing only complimentary words. but his kisses rain down on your whole body as usual, and your body floods with heat. 

soma: “moist and smooth... is this the aroma[therapy] effect” 

he strokes your whole body with his palm and your body heats up. eventually, his hand passes over your hipbone and stops at your inner thigh. 

soma: “slowly”

“exactly as he said, his slow and supple fingers inserted into my hottest place.”

“the part that was already wet welcomed his finger without difficulty.”

(🔥🔥🔥)

while making love to you with his fingers, soma places his lips just below your navel. after feeling a tickle/tingle, a slight ache comes. you let out a small cry at the sweet ache that you’ve tasted time and time again. 

“soma-san always leaves a love mark somewhere”

“that makes me happy...”

ugaksfjlsd she’s so in love~

“as my body and mind were being filled, soma-san’s hardened part touched my lower abdomen.”

“before i knew it, he put on a condom [contraceptives] and was about to enter my ~honey jar~.”

“quickly, come on...”

okay i’m not kidding but seeing that smile after all that sexual buildup was like a shot to my heart. i need to take a quick break because ;laksjf;lskjdsl fasd

as if he heard the whisper in your heart, soma smiles quietly and sinks his hips down [into you]. 

“eh...? usually...”

“he’d ask “do you want it?”“

even though you think it seems strange, your thoughts fade away at the feeling of his hard, proud, hot mass entering you. quietly, slowly, gently moving inwards, the heat inside your core also increases. you moan his name. 

“soma-san’s passion became so hot that my inner walls clenched tightly.”

you wholeheartedly do not want to let go of your beloved person.

you apologise, saying that you just got really into [enthusiastic about] it. 

soma: “i’m happy. every time you accept me, i feel blessed.”*

*by accept, i think he means you accepting/receiving him [into your body]. the word used for blessed is shiawase, which can also mean happy/fortunate/lucky.

lskfj he’s normally so teasing but my heart races when he’s sweet too... ;~~;

you moan his name. hanging on his unusually kind words, you are swayed by his waves~ 

“it feels good but... why... why does something feel different,” you wonder.

being made love to gently, your body is burning, but something is missing. 

“is it frustrating when he’s too gentle...”

when you think about it, it was the same with dinner and the bath. 

“even in situations when he usually makes fun of me, he’s always smart...”**

**by smart, i think this means like emotionally/socially smart. btw this is reminding me exactly of one thing huedhaut once said in one of his povs (cupid lovestruck valentine, where he worries because he always tries not to take it too far when he jokes with you)

you suddenly remember when he said he would “refrain in the future”. is he keeping true to that declaration? if so... will it always be like this...? what would that be like...

“if it’s like this, it will end with incomplete combustion.”***

***i think by “incomplete combustion” she’s saying that she can’t orgasm lol?? someone let me know if this actually means something else and my mind is just in the gutter

you think that’s sad, for soma too. 

you still haven’t seen his face that smiles so happily when bothering you today. 

“that’s why... for soma-san’s sake too...”

“maybe i have to honestly say “it’s not enough/i’m not satisfied”.”

but... to say that yourself...

soma: “you’re so cute”****

****he says your name here but mine is still set to anata/you lol

as if you’re being swayed in the calm and slow waves of the sea, your heart sways too. 

“i don’t dislike gentle waves but...”

“i want to feel soma-san more...”

“i want to drown in the formidable waves that only soma-san can make...”

“more than anything, i want to see soma-san’s satisfied gaze on me as i drown.”

“because soma-san’s pleasure is also my pleasure...”

even though you’re feeling good, you bite the bullet. 

soma: “what’s wrong?”

“you’re not the usual mean/teasing soma-san...”

even the ~gentle waves~ stop completely, and he looks at you directly. you panic bc he pulls out. 

--

and that’s the end of chapter 5. omg the suspense is UNREAL!! was that not the most steamy chapter of hlitf you’ve ever read?! and you know it’s only going to get better in the last chapter, when soma finally unleashes his true ijiwaru self. this chapter had my heart racing at so many points. i definitely enjoy being spoilt by soma, but more than anything i enjoy being teased by him and i think our dear mc feels the same way! something that i love is how she also prioritises his pleasure/gratification? even if it means being super embarrassed because of how mean he is, she just wants to see his absolute satisfaction. something that i realised while reading this story in japanese is that he definitely comes across as a lot meaner/more sarcastic in japanese (except for this chapter where he’s being extra gentle), even more like my eternal star-crossed lover huedhaut. 

anyway, let me know if you prefer gentle soma or mean soma! i hope you enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned for the final chapter coming tomorrow (probably)! 

i’ve also set up a ko-fi page here and would be incredibly grateful if you would like to support me for translations and being able to purchase more routes to recap in english!

click here for the next chapter

[thatfanficstuff]

Not Again - Clint Barton

Pairing:Clint Barton x Wife!Reader

Warnings: mentions of dead bodies

A/N: This is for @delicatelyherdreams 1K writing challenge. My prompt is in bold below. I don’t know what happened here. It just...happened? Anyway, enjoy my randomness.

***

Clint sighed in relief as he stepped out of the jet he’d ‘borrowed’ to come home for a visit. He liked flying, but the trip home always seemed the longest. His brow furrowed as he approached the house and took in the area around it. The backhoe was out of the barn and near the garden. You’d obviously been doing some digging. And the fact you didn’t come out to meet him was unusual. He hoped everything was all right.

“Y/N?” he called as he opened the door of the house.

“In the bedroom,” you yelled back.

He followed the sound of your voice to your room, stopping in the doorway to just appreciate the view. You were laid diagonally across the bed on your stomach, arms folded under your head. Your eyes were closed but you smiled as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“You okay, babe?” His eyes ran over you looking for any sign of injury.

You hummed low in your throat. “Just tired.”

He tilted his head and the corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. He loved the sleepy, sedentary version of you. Hell, he loved every version of you but this was one of the few where he was offered the opportunity to just enjoy looking at you. “Sweetheart,” he finally said breaking the silence, “did you bury something in the garden?”

You cracked open an eye to glare at him as you scrunched up your face. “A body.”

He scowled and pushed himself out of the doorway to settle on the bed near your head. “Again?”

Rolling over onto your back, you huffed out a sigh. “I’m not real happy with Nick Fury at the moment, Barton.”

Clint’s lips twitched as he pushed some loose hair away from your face, his fingers ghosting over your skin. He paused as he caught sight of the bruising near your right temple. Taking your chin in his hand, he turned your head to the side. Worried eyes took in the injury and you couldn’t help but smile. “What’s this?”

“That would be a bruise from where I got kicked in the head.”

“Damn it, Y/N. Have you at least had that looked at?”

He ran his fingers over the injury and you couldn’t help but wince slightly from the light pain. “I can’t get Fury’s cleaners out here and you think the doc made it? Not likely.”

He scowled as he pulled out his phone and dialed Fury’s direct line. He put it on speaker phone.

“Barton. What can I do for you?” Fury’s deep voice came over the line.

Clint leaned forward with his elbow on his knee and the phone out in front of him. “When I left my new house and my new wife, you assured me that I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“And what exactly has you concerned, Agent?”

“Y/N has called for cleaners twice—”

“Three times,” you corrected him and he narrowed his eyes in question. He was certain he’d only been told of one incident other than this one. You gave him a cockeyed grin and little shrug.

He shook his head and returned to his call. “Okay. Three times. They never show.”

There was a long pause. “Are you certain?”

“If we put any more bodies in our garden, it’s going to have to be reclassified as a cemetery, Fury,” you piped up.

“Motherfuckers.” His voice was little more than a growl and you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth to keep from snickering. “Give me a minute.”

You could hear him pounding away on the keys in the background. “Holy shit. How many people do have buried in there? It looks like eleven? And two, no three, dogs?”

Apparently, he had redirected a thermal satellite to check out your property. “Probably more dogs than that. The second group had a pack with them it felt like.”

“What the hell is going on out there in the middle of nowhere, Barton?” Fury demanded. “I thought you said it was peaceful.”

“It is when people aren’t trying to kill my wife.” Clint raked a hand through his hair. You had most assuredly not told him about the dogs.

“I’m looking in the system right now. It records three call outs to your location and cleaners being dispatched all three times.”

“I’m telling you, no one ever showed up.”

He sighed. “Looks like it was the same crew all three times. Let me pull up the notes. Responded to 1347 Buchanan. No agent or bodies present. Cleaned large amount of blood and bodily fluids from kitchen surfaces. Almost verbatim for the following two responses. Is there a reason you kill everyone in your kitchen, Y/N?”

Clint glanced at you to find your eyes covered with your hand while you laughed quietly. “You want to repeat that address?” you finally managed to ask.

Clint’s eyes widened in realization. “We’re 1337,” he told Fury.

The director went off on a tirade that was crude even for him. “I’ll get it taken care of,” he finally barked and ended the call.

Clint tossed the phone beside him on the bed. He laid down so his head was toward your feet and vice versa. A large hand settled on your thigh making you smile. The two of you laid that for several minutes before he spoke. “You didn’t tell me about the dogs.”

“That was while you were in Buhdapest. With everything that happened I forgot by the time you came back.”

He grunted in understanding and you fell back into silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Finally, though you couldn’t ignore your thoughts any longer. “Clint?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Why do you suppose our neighbor’s kitchen is always covered in blood?”

He sighed. “We should probably look into that, huh?”

“Probably,” you agreed.

Another few minutes passed and the bed began to shake as Clint laughed.

“What?”

“Can you imagine them coming back from wherever they’d been and the kitchen being spotless with no other sign of anyone having been there?”

You took a moment to picture the scene in your head before joining your husband in his laughter. 

***

Marvel:  : @evyiione @gabriellewritermua @reblogger-not-a-blogger @youclickedthislink

All the Things:   @swanky-batman @rissyrapp20 @startrekkingaroundasgard @spooookyscary @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @laneygthememequeen @collette04 @shatteredabby

[ineffablefool]

Some meditations on being a fat human being, in the era of Good Omens series fandom.  Not n//sf/w, really (hi my name is Jack I’m ace and supremely uninterested in sexytimes), but really personal and also long, so I’ll stick it behind a readmore.  I suppose if another fat human being had thoughts they wanted to tack on, they could reblog to do so, but I don’t expect this to be a particularly rebloggable thing.  Just thinkin’ out loud (via clickety fingies).

I have been... okay, more or less, with how my body looks, for a while.  (Minus all the things about it that make me get “she” and “her” and “ma’am” everywhere I go, with exactly three glorious exceptions in the ~4 years since I realized that those weren’t right.  That is a whole ‘nother bucket of bears.)  I’ve been on Tumblr over on my main account since 2013, and the entire time I’ve been immersing myself in fat positivity and in fat activism by wonderful accounts like ok2befat and bigfatscience and thisisthinprivilege.  So I’ve been basically okay. 

It sucks how hard it is to find clothing that I like which doesn’t completely exclude my particular set of proportions.  It sucks that my saint of a boss had to literally fight our HR department to change the company policy on flights for business, because the previous policy would have forced me to fly 18 hours in an economy-class seat much smaller than I am when I visit India in a couple months.  It sucks that my body is still the “oh, is this disgusting thing a dealbreaker for you” question on dating websites, and that it’s still the butt of every third Trump joke.  It sucks.  But I’ve gotten better over the years at the skill of seeing my body as not the problem, but an innocent bystander in everyone else’s bullshit.  Clothing and plane seats and humor don’t spring from the earth to be harvested and consumed raw.  People decide how to make them.  People can decide differently.

Anyway.  I’ve been pretty much okay with Body.  Body’s fine.  It’s a good pal.  It gets me where I need to be, and it lets me run around in little circles pretending to be an airplane when I’m bored.  I spend some time with it in partial states of undress now and then (I’m too much of a germaphobe to ever be a naturist, let’s put it that way), just so I can keep myself familiar with what it really looks like.  Y’know how the horror movie monster is really scary up until they actually show it?  Same thing, except fewer blood squibs.

But here’s all this Good Omens stuff.

A lot of the fandom has embraced the slight pudginess of Michael Sheen’s Aziraphale, and a lot of artists are putting that into their work.  And a blessed wonderful few aren’t stopping there.  They’re drawing Aziraphales that are more than just a tiny bit pudgy, sometimes that are just plain fat, unquestionably, not just “a little larger than the very thin rendition of Crowley” or “wearing a lot of layers” or “the clothes are just cut that way”.  Really, really adorable renditions of fat angels who are clearly loveable and clearly loved because look, the artist drew them together, Crowley is right there and he doesn’t have that look on his face by accident.

(There are book renditions floating around too where people have headcanoned a fatter Aziraphale, but I’m still talking miniseries right now.  Also, there are plenty of sort of... cartoony/stylized/silly renditions out there with fatter Aziraphales, but I’m not really talking about those either.  There’s a sort of area of artwork where the style or the scene being depicted is such that my brain is surprised when any of the characters is fat, because this is a pretty drawing of two people kissing or whatever and therefore obviously they have to both be thin.  Obviously.  Internalized fatphobia nonsense.  But that’s the kind of artwork I’m thinking when I type all these zillions of words.)

And that’s a choice, to say “I’m an artist and I’m going to draw this character who is worth being the recipient of a 6000-year-long love, and that character is fat, and that’s just how it is”.  And to keep doing it in one piece of art after the other.

speremint was the first artist I noticed doing this, drawing an Aziraphale who is loved by Crowley (the sacred apple tree art still cracks me up, poor Crowley) and who is definitely fat and who is adorable, and if you’ve read the notes on any of my fics you know that she singlehandedly changed how I picture my headcanon’d Aziraphale.  Then I discovered that dotstronaut and lonicera-caprifolium and toastedbuckwheat are out there too, giving me lovely art to shove into my eyeballs and extend my lifespan potentially indefinitely.  I bet there’s more I haven’t noticed yet.  I want there to be like a hundred more I haven’t noticed yet.

And this all ticks over into the second half of what’s apparently a manifesto at this point, boy it’s a good thing I’m a fast typist, which is the fact that in addition to being a fat human, I am also romantically and aesthetically attracted to fat humans.  It’s something I’ve pretty much literally had no opportunity to ever express, because in my Real Life I don’t really admit to having feelings per se and also I am... not the type of human who is the recipient of romantic thoughts from others.  Or who would ever act on my own unless the other party said something first.  (Which nobody ever has since 2006, you guys.  Supremely not the recipient of romance over here.)

So there’s this fandom environment where a fat character is being celebrated and loved, and I started writing fanfiction for the first time this century, and all of a sudden there’s a place for me to express feelings that I’ve been sitting on since I finally realized in about 2001 what it was about that one guy in high school that made me want to hug him, even though I also couldn’t stand his attitude.

Going through my fics from oldest to most recent, it is clear that I am getting more and more comfortable with that expression.  It’s getting ridiculous.  At this rate, in three weeks’ time I’m just going to be writing “Aziraphale is fat and beautiful and I just want to cuddle his belly forever” over and over again for five thousand words at a stretch.

But that means Brain is thinking a lot about how Aziraphale is fat, and beautiful, and perfect exactly how he is.  And then Brain looks down at Body and is like “hmm.  Same hat.  ineffablefool is fat too.  Therefore, [insert math lady meme here]”.  And I will be, like, “okay, so if Crowley were to put his hand on Aziraphale’s belly, what would that feel or look like?  How would his internal narration describe it?  Well, there’s a belly right here, let’s do some science.”  And then the thoughts that I start associating with the experience of my own body are completely good thoughts, all of them, because they’re going to be going in Crowley’s head.  And my written Crowley is never going to be anything other than madly in asexual romantic love with my written Aziraphale, and is never going to see him as anything other than perfect, physically, no matter what he looks like.

And it’s just being a really good positive feedback mechanism, I guess is the tl;dr version.  External validation (via art, via others’ fics, via comments on my own fics, btw if you’ve left any of those then you are also helping extend my lifespan, especially the people who come back to comment on each new story, yes I recognize you and I do a little happy dance every time a familiar name pops up, please rejoin me on Monday I’m going to post my dickwheelie letters fic) is all well and good.  But the mental loop of “own body can be used for realistic descriptions of a fat body -> descriptions based on own body are all lovingly positive -> own body is therefore described by self as lovingly positive” is... it’s nice, is what I’m saying.  It’s very nice.  Last week I expressed, out loud in a group of coworkers, my desire that something be more size-inclusive.  Do you even know how many deaths I would once have suffered rather than say something like that in mixed company.  But why shouldn’t I say it!  There’s nothing wrong with my being fat!  In fact, it’s within the realm of possibility to see it as a positive thing, so let’s just all admit that we have eyes and then move on!  Geez!

So those are some of my thoughts on being a fat human being, in the era of Good Omens series fandom.

now if I can just score a hot fat ace Ineffable Significant Other out of this fandom, I’ll be set

[nirikeehan]

Margaret Atwood Poetry Prompts

Compiled from her collection Power Politics.

Rebloggable version here.

You fit into me like a hook into an eye. 

I can change myself more easily than I can change you. 

In the half light your body stutters against me, tentative as moths; your skin is nervous.

I don’t want to hurt you any more now than I have to.

Staying closed is less pain, but your anger is finally more dangerous.

What do you expect after this? Applause? Your name on stone? 

You will have nothing but me and in a worse way than before.

It would be so good if you’d only stay up there where I put you; I could believe you’d solve most of my religious problems.

I rest here without power to save myself, tasting salt in my mouth, the fact that you won’t save me.

Which of us will survive the other? - Fill, Thalia/Blackwall

The things we say are true; it is our crooked aims, our choices turn them criminal.

Of course your lies are more amusing: you make them new each time. 

Your truths, painful and boring, repeat themselves over & over, perhaps because you own so few of them.

If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?

Because we have no history, I construct one for you.

You refuse to own yourself. You permit others to do it for you.

Fists have many forms; a fist knows what it can do without the nuisance of speaking: it grabs and smashes.

Language, the fist proclaims by squeezing, is for the weak only.

You attempt merely power, you accomplish merely suffering.

How long do you expect me to wait while you cauterize your senses, one after another, turning yourself to an impervious glass tower?

How long will you demand I love you?

Next time we commit love, we ought to choose in advance what to kill.

There is no way I can lose you when you are lost already.

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. When was the last time you had an argument with one of your parents? It’s been awhile since we have an argument, but we often bicker about things concerning me and health stuff. They get frustrated and they worry about me, which I get, but it’s just hard. I know what I need to do, it’s just actually doing it.

2. Do you still live at home or with a guardian of some sort? If so, when do you plan on moving out, if ever? If you have moved out, how did your relationship to your parents change after that? I do still live at home with my parents, younger brother, and our dog. I don’t have any plans for the foreseeable future to move out. It’s best for me to live at home at this time and I’m fine with it. 3. When was the last time you were diagnosed with something? Are you concerned about anything regarding your physical or mental health at the moment? I haven’t been diagnosed with anything new in awhile. I’m just dealing with ongoing, chronic stuff. I’m very concerned about things regarding my physical and mental health. It’s not good right now. 4. What’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to other people? How did this affect you? Some days I’m in an extra moody mood and I just keep quiet and to myself, saying little to anyone and when I do it’s short. However, outside of my immediate family that I live with, I haven’t spoken to friends and family for a long time. Some in almost 2 years.

5. What is one blanket judgment you tend to make about people (like, you judge all people who live at home, all people who drink, etc)? Does this judgment come from a particular personal experience? Ha, well I definitely can’t judge people who still live at home with their parents cause exhibit A here. I guess a blanket judgment I might make is when people just don’t own up to their faults or hurtful behavior and just sit there and try to lie to your face instead of admitting to their issues or justifying it in some way. It’s frustrating with people like that. 6. What is something seemingly small and inconsequential that will cause you to avoid a person? Uhh. I admit to distancing myself from people, particularly guys that I’m interested in, because I don’t want to bother them and I want them to reach out to me cause then I know they really do want to talk to me. It’s so completely stupid and childish, though. It also always backfires because then neither one of us will message the other and then more and more time passes by. It hasn’t worked in my favor at all. I don’t know if that quite answers the question, but it’s what came to mind. 7. Does it bother you to see certain traits of yours in others? Do you know why you have this reaction? I don’t like seeing other people be hard on themselves and put themselves down like I always do to myself. I don’t like when others are hurting.

8. What was the last meal you skipped? Do you skip meals often or do you try to avoid that? I pretty much always skip breakfast. it’s quite rare that I ever have it. 9. How do you react to other people yelling or slamming doors? Is this something you ever do too? It’s not pleasant. 10. Is there anything you rely on someone else to do for you, or anything someone else relies on you to do for them? Yeah, there’s a few things. Some things I need help with and can’t do on my own. 11. What was the last thing you had for breakfast? I will say that now and then there are two days a week that my mom has the opening shift at work and she’s up getting ready when I’m still up, so she’ll make me some eggs or oatmeal. That happened Monday and she has the opening shift today. 12. Do you tend to eat the same few things all the time or do you vary your intake? Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? Are there any commonly enjoyed foods that you don’t like? Yeah, there’s a small amount of foods that I eat and most days I have some of the same things. I am a picky eater, but there’s also some other factors that contribute to my weird eating habits and the certain foods I eat. I used to be such a foodie until a couple years ago. As for foods that are commonly enjoyed by others that I don’t like, I don’t eat sushi or any seafood. I feel like everyone else loves sushi. 13. Do you have a favorite stuffed animal or anything that you sleep with? Where did you get it and what makes it a favorite? I don’t have any I sleep with, but I have a TON of giraffe stuffed animals. I’ve gotten them from various places over the years. 14. Do you have good body image? Do you feel more confident about your body or your personality? What is one thing about yourself about which you do feel particularly confident? Noooope. I’m very self-conscious about my body and my looks. Especially nowadays. I don’t like much of my personality either, except for my sense of humor and I consider myself to be understanding. The only thing about my appearance that I like is my hair after it has recently been colored and layered. Until the roots start showing and the color fades some, it looks nice. 15. How likely are you to compliment other people? How do you react or respond when you receive a compliment? What are your favorite types to receive? I often will think like, “Ooh I like that shirt” or “I really like their hair” or something, but I don’t often say anything unless I know the person. Like people I don’t know will compliment me on my hair or my purse, but I’m not one to do that. I’m too shy for that. Compliments are nice, but I’m so awkward about it.

16. Describe the last thing you reblogged? How many posts do you tend to reblog during a day? Some photos of Alexander Skarsgard from the new show he’s in, The Little Drummer Girl. I like more stuff than I reblog, but it really just varies. Like if there’s new photos of Alex and my dash is like full of stuff, I’ll reblog a lot. And like on Wednesdays for example, I reblog a lot after American Horror Story and Riverdale air. 17. Do you tend to reblog or make your own personal posts more often? On my main blog, I’m a reblogger. I haeven’t made a personal post on there in quite some time. This side blog is all personal posts. 18. When was the last time you felt like you had no one to talk to? When you can’t talk to anyone about your problems, what are some ways you cope alone? I feel that way a lot, even though I do. I know I could talk to my mom and I have friends who would be there for me if I let them, but... I tend to just keep to myself or vent and ramble on here. 19. Who in your life do you get along with best? How about the least? How often do you have to interact with these people? There isn’t anyone in my life that I don’t get along with, but I’m definitely closest to my mom and younger brother. 20. Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. 21. What was the last important event or holiday celebration you attended? Was this something you wanted to be a part of, or did you only go begrudgingly? The last important event I attended were a few graduations last year. 22. When was the last time you did something you knew was wrong? What about the last time you did something right just because it was right? Hmm. I guess by not doing some things that I should be doing, and I know I should be doing, regarding my health. 23. When you do good things, do you do them because you want some sort of reward or recognition or do you do them just for the sake of being good? I like to do things for others because I genuinely enjoy it. 24. When was the last time you felt especially appreciated? What about unappreciated? I don’t feel I’ve done anything to be appreciated for in a long time. 25. When you fill out social media bios and such, how do you typically describe yourself? Is describing yourself something you have a difficult time doing? I hate doing that cause I never know what to say. I’m just like, “Hey, I’m Steph” or I’ll just be like Steph|29|CA. lol. 26. Do you feel like you have a good idea of who you are as a person? What you like, what you stand for, what you feel, etc? With some things, but there’s also a lot that I don’t understand about myself or am still trying to figure out. 27. What is one unusual belief you have? Has anyone ever made fun of you for your beliefs? Hmm. I don’t know. 28. What is something that brings you a lot of comfort? I don’t know. 29. When was the last time someone apologized to you? What about the last time you apologized? Are apologies easy or difficult for you? I don’t recall for either one. I certainly have some apologies to make, though. :/ I can admit when I’m wrong and am quick to blame myself anyway, but I just don’t know how to explain to certain people that I need to apologize to what is going on that or even what to say. I don’t feel an apology is good enough at this point. 30. What was the last thing someone else bought for you? My brother bought me Starbucks and lunch a couple days ago.

[dentelle-grise]

Your Latest Trick - Chapter 25

Long after everyone has stopped talking about Loki and his misdemeanors, his failed attempt to take over Midgard and his punishment, you meet him at a party.(Loki x Reader NSFW) -

First chapter here (can be read as a oneshot) All chapters to date at AO3 (64K, NC-17)

Tagging my rebloggers, commenters and other folk who asked. Please let me know if you want in (or out) of the list: @joanbushur, @frenchfrostpudding, @lovely-geek, @wolfsmom1, @sigridlaufeyson, @lokislonelylady, @monitoroutside, @daniissuchadani, @devilbat, @deadlydreamersecrets @helenisabel, @stardustandangelsfanfiction, @ely-seum, @wendyrobson1978, @the-ships-i-ship, @shemart101, @dreamourbrainout, @sadghostomg, @lokilover2000, @blobfishington, @lynneth1968-blog, @deaddecade, @nardo94, @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981, @ashesandfire, @imagines-of-the-fandom​, @beingrandomisfun​, @tomsragnarok, @skulliebythesea 

Chapter 25

You don’t expect Loki to still be in your quarters when you finally come in from the balcony.

You wait until you’ve calmed down, till you’ve sucked back the tears from the brink. You’re battling a furious mix of frustration and self-directed anger. What if you’d told Papa back there. You half wish you had. He’d have believed you too, but then what would Loki have done? Evaporated to never be seen again?

You feel like he’s toying with you and you’ve been too blinded by desire to see it. He’s not serious and this masquerade will go on until the day you’re caught.

Could that be that he wants?

It's a long time before your blood has cooled and by then you're more sad than anything else.

You lied again, if only by omission, and feel more trapped than ever. Papa’s words you don’t recall exactly, but he was offering help. And you lied to him.

You creep back through the bathroom and push the door to the bedroom.

Loki is very much still there. You stop, short, shocked at the sight.

He’s completely naked, standing right in the middle of the room. Though he’s facing away from you, his hands stretched up above his head, you are sure he knows you’re there.

Your eyes follow his long legs, the elegant curve of his hips and up his back, pausing on the scar. He’s waiting for a reaction and then you realize what’s odd.

He’s tied his own hands from the ceiling, doubtless by magic, and it pulls him up so that he seems even taller than usual.

“Loki?”

What is this?

He just laughs. Nothing’s wrong. He intended this.

He turns enough that you see his face and that's when you also see he has a strip of black satin covering his eyes.

Not entirely naked then.

You take a gulp of air, your focus suddenly realigned.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

His hands are attached just high enough to force him onto his toes. He shifts constantly to maintain his balance. It looks uncomfortable, but then he put himself there and could surely break free in an instant if he chose to.

"Guess." he says hoarsely. “Use your imagination.” you watch him swallow. His own is definitely already at work.

“I trust you. Just. Do as you feel with me.”

This blows away every prior thought, or rather the frustration and anger might just have found an outlet.

You think you know what this is now. Loki doesn’t ever apologize outright. This much you’ve learnt. He half tortured you with pleasure earlier, not to mention the humiliation. And now he’s offering you some sort of revenge in kind.

If he weren’t blindfolded, he’d see how this throws you off balance, how it makes you fluster and blush to the roots of your hair.

He probably knows though, that’s why he grins so as he swings around in your direction. It makes you want to take him down a peg or two.

Then, you know exactly what you are going to do. Silently you step over and take the quill from your desk.

You creep up and, without touching him anywhere else, start to stroke the feather over one of his nipples, making him hiss and shudder. You concentrate on flicking the one nipple repeatedly until it’s pebbled and hard and its twin has done the same in sympathy. You know you’ve got him thinking of your first time, of what this did to you, commanding the feather by magic, and that such thoughts amplify his own reactions. He twists and shivers under your ministrations. With half his face hidden you can’t see his reaction but he certainly lets you hear it, making little ‘oh-oh-ohs’, sighs, whimpers, while you calmly paint his skin with the feather.

You don’t relent. Loki makes gasps of growing intensity until it’s too much and he starts to swing himself from his bonds, trying to trap you with his legs.

You just dodge, taking advantage of the fact he can’t see you. He has given you the advantage, but when you laugh he knows exactly where you are and he’s so quick that he nearly catches you. He blindly knocks over a chair and kicks the sofa in his efforts and you start to wonder if the ceiling will hold.

You back away, out of reach. Then, giving no warning, you lunge and catch him instead, burying your face in his belly and nipping. It works far better than you could have expected. He lets out a bitten off cry and comes almost instantly all over the both of you, dragging in air between spasms and letting out a broken stream of praise and curses till finally he utters a word you don’t recognize at all. His bonds break and he falls into your arms, all but knocking you over.

You sag under his weight and gently slip together to the floor, where you untie the blindfold. Underneath you see an expression still more naked than the rest of him. He looks totally unguarded and lost. When you notice the tracks of tears you want to put the slip of cloth right back for modesty’s sake, but fascination stays your hand.

“Loki, do really like being…?” You wave the blindfold a second, “…bound, helpless.” It seems incredible, given the way he’s capable of utterly owning you physically.

“Not in the slightest.” He says, regaining some composure. It sounds offhand but contradicts all immediate evidence. “I’m never helpless.” He the last word ends in a dirty chuckle that goes right through you. Then, more seriously, he says, “I only want to give myself to you.”

There follows a clean up session of decadent proportions, involving two successive baths - the first time you dried one another things became too heated and finished in full out lovemaking on the bathroom floor. You didn’t realize how wound up you were just from watching him, how easily he could tip the balance.

Afterwards, as you lie on the bed, his head pillowed on your stomach, his expression hidden from you, he promises you will see your parents and Odin together. Then he shifts up nuzzles into your neck, holding you, and whispering about how it will all be alright, he’ll see to it.

You’re infused with relief, even though he sounds apprehensive, or perhaps because of he does - who wouldn’t be?

This is a major victory, even though he has made no mention of when such a meeting might happen. It’s finally going to happen. You’re going to make this real. Loki will announce his return to the world and it will be the end of all the hiding and lying and weirdness. The future is vertiginous with possibilities.

You go about thanking him and celebrating it all at the same time, your movements slow but not hesitant. You don’t want to talk of it more. It’s scary. You want to show him through kisses and touches, how pleased you are that finally, finally you’re going to take this step together.

It’s supposed to be affectionate rather than passionate, but soon kissing isn’t enough. He reaches his hand lower and you willingly accept. Then fixing you in the eye he smirks.

“How many times, I wonder?” he asks in a voice feigning innocence.

“What?” though you think you’ve guessed;

“How many times could I make you come in one night?”

It sounds loving, cheeky. It’s a romantic idea.

In practice, it’s a crazy idea. If you thought he was trying to kill you out there on the battlements that was nothing.

He starts gently, fingers and lips all over you. He’s painstakingly careful not to do anything to hurt you and with his own lust sated he’s fully in control. Usually you’re satisfied with once, impressed with any more, but even alone you have never experimented to know where the limit lies.

Then, with his tongue pressed deep inside you, he caresses your breasts blindly but exquisitely above his head. You have a view of the top of his head but, when he looks up and gives you a flash of those eyes, your whole body jolts. His gaze pins you emotionally, if you weren’t already pinned physically.

Your body knows the way, when he re-engages, the expectation is there, the path beaten, this time you race down it into the wall of orgasm.

“You are just so lovely like this.” He murmurs as you lay there panting.

He is dedicated to his mission but you as you come down and his caresses resume, you also start to have a creepy feeling that this is a kind of experiment for him. The fascination in his face is more than sexual, its academic, which is not to say it isn’t carnal or that perhaps it’s even more erotic because his intellectual curiosity is piqued as well.

You are like some specimen he has collected and is now playing with. You try hard not to think of boys and the terrible tortures they subject insects to. Fortunately he choses that moment to bite you on the hip in passing and all such ideas disappear.

He moves you onto you side and works from behind you, hidden, reduced to the sensation he creates and his words. When you cry out raggedly, he hushes you like an animal that needs to be calmed. You don’t need to be calmed. Not at all, you want more of him, but most of all the part of him that’s scheming and reasoning and watching, a step back from what he’s actually doing.

You want to make him lose it and watch it happen, now that would be beautiful.

You close your eyes imagining that happening, him coming, that half troubled look he gets sometimes, just before… That’s what pushes you over the edge again, and this time its like you keep on falling.

You can hear him telling you how good you are how beautiful you are, how he loves to see you like this and all the time he persists, stimulating you any way he can until it happens again and you shudder, grasping the sheets the air, anything.

Bit by bit he’s chasing away your thought and reason, until there is only the want and the living, writhing, growing thing that drags you toward another climax. Oversensitive and eager, it gets easier and easier for you to fall over that edge, the reality of the situation is slipping away, and as he comes into view he seems enthralled.

And all the time he denies himself. It waits there, like so much latent anger, ready to trap him. Your altered state gives you an odd kind of clarity, one focused on him alone. Under the surface is something driving him, something angry, something hurt. It’s like a need to lay waste. It would be frightening were it not for your utter trust, instead you feel a thrill.

When watching you has become too much he pins you to the wall with magic so that you are suspended just inches from the floor. You feel weightless. Like this, his hands free to fondle you as he takes you. He’s never been so demanding, nor so giving and the moment he enters you is pure bliss. Your world narrows to your own heat, everything stemming from that one place he’s now relentlessly plundering. It’s like all that went before was nothing but a prelude to this.

He’s being loud but you don’t understand his words, it’s just noise but the tone is one of adulation. On and on it goes, so that there are no long peaks and valleys but a never-ending plateau of pleasure.

But then gives a broken cry unlike any you’ve heard from him yet and you wonder through the fog in your mind if he’s alright and try pull him to you, though your limbs are too weak to obey and he just leans on you shaking. You can feel the carpet under you feet, though you don’t recall him breaking the spell. You croon to him and stroke and kiss him until he calms, his body damp with sweat against your and still sparking reactions wherever you touch.

You struggle back to the bed and lie silent a moment. Its not the warm lethargy you expected, more an insatiable over-awareness. It’s a floating dreamlike state where you feel cushioned from everything but where the slightest touch anywhere on your body is almost too much. Loki strokes your hand touching the fingers one by on and you twist yourself against him. It feels like like the most intimate thing he could be doing when he’s only caressing your little finger.

“You’re unstoppable.” he sighs, tucked under your arm and the vibrations of the words go through you like waves

“I lost count.” you say, surprised you can still form words. It feels like an apology, but question really makes no sense anymore. He seems to take it as a complement though and pulls you closer. You can feel a pleasurable vibration from him like he was humming to you. After a few moments you realize he is softly snoring.

You sleep late, unbothered by the sunlight creeping behind the curtains, and wake alone, of course. You’ve all but missed the morning and you’re ravenous.

You move slowly, full of delicious aches and pains. There’s no chance that you could catch Loki if you had to run after him today. But then you guess he isn’t moving too quickly this morning either and that idea makes you smile.

But still he was up and about before you and evaded all discussion of the meeting with Odin and your parents. The idea of it makes you nervous too, despite your readiness.

One thing at a time then. First you’ll see Papa, right away if you can. You’ll explain everything that’s happened and put yesterday right. That way, he’ll ease the way with Mother. Her reaction to your ‘beau’s’ identity you cannot predict. When it comes to seeing Odin he’ll help too. You’ll have an ally. However you decide you’ve no need to mention Loki’s presence yesterday.

When you emerge from your chambers it’s clear there’s something special going on. There’s flags out and music coming from the main esplanade. The palace gates are open and everyone in sight is busy going places, carrying things, food especially, decorations, what looks like parts of a movable stage/ You’ve been so distracted lately that if an event planned for today then you completely missed knowing what it is and you’ve been so occupied that you wouldn’t have heard it on the grapevine.

But from the atmosphere this doesn’t look prepared. There’s stress as well as bustle, a kind of hyperactive excitement. What’s all the fuss about? An unexpected visit perhaps. Has Odin finally invited the elven dignitaries? Your mind falls again to that face, ‘her’. You can’t let this complicate things.

Papa is not in the treasury as you hoped. No doubt he is taken with the preparations too.

The advantage of the hubbub is that no one pays attention to you and you simply observe. Odin must be busy with the visitors, and Loki is who knows where. You feel a bit peaked. There’s little chance you’ll be able to them both today. You wander about in rather in a haze for while, beset by flashes, of last night.

There are hastily erected marquees and the inevitable bunting in the marketplace and the central city seems invaded by stalls and hawkers of all kinds like on a public holiday.

You buy yourself a pasty, a large one, and devour it with relish there in the street while the vendor, chubby and raucous in a straining striped apron, watches. Because you were clearly enjoying it and hadn’t bothered moving away from the stall as you ate, he embarrassingly draws attention to you as he calls out to all and sundry about how tasty his wares are.

“What’s the big event?” you interrupt between mouthfuls, glad to see Asgard looking more like its old self. The semblance of normality and joyous atmosphere help you to set your mind on something else for a moment than your concerns and the ghosts of Loki’s touches.

“The prince has returned.” You stop munching and stare at him. Already? Loki has revealed his survival to the whole of Asgard while you were sleeping! You grin and nearly drop the food.

“He has prevailed over the forces of darkness and the King is throwing a party. But you come from the palace, didn’t you know?”

You laugh nervously. “I slept late and missed the news.”

You take another large bite, a good excuse to to answer any questions.

“They say he’s brought the mortal.” He says behind his hand. “So, there could be another reason to celebrate…” he goes on excitedly, so focused on imparting the news that he pays no attention to your evident confusion. “A royal engagement!”

“The mortal?” You say dumbly.

“The Lady Jane.”

You rally. He’s talking about Thor, of course he’s talking about Thor. But Loki had said Thor was busy defending Midgard.

“Already!?” It must have been an easy triumph. You don’t know if it’s relief for Thor or disappointment that this is not Loki’s celebration.

“Well they don’t live so long do they? He can’t afford to hang around.”

You half-heartedly look for Asta, checking your favorite haunts while the crowd swells around you. You want to have it out with her about yesterday. Although you can’t tell her the truth yet, at least you can find out what’s got into her, what she meant by that parting look.

You make your way back to the palace. It might even be better like this, like this not all the focus will be on Loki when he reappears. On second thoughts something tells you he might prefer not to share the attention with Thor. You only wonder why Loki and Odin hadn’t told Thor already about Loki’s survival. Perhaps that’s where Loki is now, seeing his brother, but who knows how things really stand between those two.

Back within the palace walls you make for Asta’s quarters but your path is blocked by a group of courtiers moving toward the throne room. Papa is not among them, but mother is! She spots you at the very same moment you see her.

The group is murmuring nervously, obviously about to see the King, you want to back off, but Mother gives an excited cry on seeing you and runs over.

To your embarrassment, everyone stares as she hugs you demonstratively and calls you her dear girl, which is almost unknown for her - how can this day get any stranger? - before thankfully pulling you away into a cloistered walkway.

“Well, you certainly know how to keep a secret. To think.”

So that’s it. Loki really didn’t wait for you. But a least you think, taking in her jubilance and shining eyes, she not unhappy with the idea. You think you can forgive him.

“We would never have guessed. But what wondrous news.” She pulls back and holds you at arms length just looking you over and smiling, glowing almost. “I am so proud. Who would have thought, my little girl, a queen.”

“What?! But…” You had thought perhaps that Thor’s prolonged absence on Midgard might mean he no longer wanted the throne but there was nothing official. That would have left no heir. But now there was Loki. And if you were with Loki…

“I admit I did fear it was a bit soon. But there’s no time like the present. Just what Asgard needs, some good news. You’ll make the family proud and the nation strong. When will you announce your engagement?”

“Engagement?!”.

Mother hushes you. “I knew it was serious when I saw you at the armory. You just didn’t have the words to tell me. Did you.” She’s being infuriatingly condescending. “But you know, you weren’t very discreet were you now!!”

“We were seen? People know?”

“Your little secret is out, or should I say your big secret - The king was seen outside your chambers.”

The King!!!

“No!!!”

Not Loki but Odin? You don’t speak out a second time, the shock and incomprehension on your face is enough to stop her.

“Oh ho.” This seems to make her even happier. “You thought you’d kept it quiet?”

“I’m not-”

“Oh I know you’re weren’t galavanting and Odin would not… treat a woman that way.”

“We played chess, what twice, and Papa was even there the second time.” you protest.

“Chess, that’s a sweet way to put it.” And she smiles even more patronizing, this time with a glint in her eye. She has always been an affirmed royalist, and despite Odin’s crazy experiments she still seems to support him wholeheartedly. “I’m glad you have finally shown sufficient brains to make a good marriage. Well, not just good.” She adds tapping you affectionately on the arm “The finest.”

“The king was not in my chambers, if he was seen near my rooms it’s because he sleepwalks.”

She looks like nothing you say will change her course and knowing this bit of information on Odin’s nocturnal habits has done nothing for your case.

“You think that-” You try again but you can’t say it because you don’t want to picture it. She thinks you’re sleeping with Odin. The sheer idea… You just want her to disappear, for something to come and save you, for Loki to appear and sweep you away, for Papa…

And then in your mind everything falls into place - his concern yesterday! and Asta and Dagny’s behavior. The rumor must have gone right around the palace.

At that moment the doors to the throne room open, but instead of the crowd going in, Thor strides out, resplendent in his best red ceremonial robes and full regalia and flanked by a dozen guards.

He looks around and his eyes fall on you.

“You.” he says without even saying your name, and your mother takes an audible intake of breath. There’s not an ounce of friendliness in Thors’s expression, not the slightest shadow of the old camaraderie.

“I would speak with you.” His gaze sears through you. All the more severe for coming from one you thought you knew well.

You take a step forward and mother does too, glued to your side.

“Alone.”

Chapter 26

[somethinginthewayiam]

Temporary Roommate (Part 5)

Pairing: Alex x Reader

Warnings: heavy flirting, language

Word count: 2055

Summary: Alex and you go out to drink and meet up with his friends again. Especially you two have some fun dancing…

A/N: So far, this was probably my favorit part to write. We’re about halfway through, let me know if you wanna be tagged. Thank you to everybody who reads my story and on top likes and/or rebloggs it. Love you guys!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

“I know just the place for you”, Alex said as you stepped into a taxi, about 40 minutes after you told him to get you somewhere where you could dance away to loud music.

It took you about 20 minutes before the car stopped in front of a pub-slash-club. Quite a lot of people were standing outside, waiting to get in. “Oh, come on”, you whined as you were in absolutely no mood to wait the whole night to get in.

 “I might know a trick or two”, Alex winked at you and took you by the hand, pulling you to the entrance. As soon as the bouncer saw him, he stood up and greeted Alex with a handshake and a quick hug. “What a pleasure, a visit by the Viking himself”, the man said with a heavy Irish accent, but you managed to understand him. “Hey man, good to see you”, Alex smiled at him. “You came at a good night, have fun”, the bouncer said and with a nod to the second bouncer, Alex and you were able to get inside.

 The loud music surrounded you immediately and you felt the bass hammer through your whole body. It was dark inside, but a lot of lights flashed in all colors. It was perfect.

You both made your way over the bar. The others would meet you there. They surely wouldn’t find you if you started moving around the club.

 “First one’s on me. What do you want?”, Alex asked you. He had to move close and basically shout in your ear so you were able to hear him over the loud music. “I’m in the mood for a cocktail”, you said as you took off your jacket and revealed a tight, sleeveless shirt, showing a lot of cleavage. Your jeans sitting low on your hips.

 “And what can I get you?”, he asked, clearly bad at hiding how he checked you out. “Surprise me”, you said with a grin and leaned against the bar counter. “Alright”, he nodded and swung around to get the attention of the bartender. “But nothing with coconut”, you told him and poked his upper arm so he would listen to you. “Okay”, he signalized that he heard you. “Oh and nothing with cream”, you added in a shouting voice. He just nodded. “And I’m not too crazy about Gin”, you said and Alex rolled his eyes.

“How about I order you a glass of water with an umbrella in it?”, he sarcastically suggested. You leaned over, clung your arms around his right arm and rested your chin on his shoulder, you were only able to reach because of your high heels. “Wow, for a guy who had just had sex for 3 straight hours, you’re surely not in a good mood”, you joked as you looked up to meet his gaze.

 He shook his head in annoyance but a smile appeared on his face. “Ah, see, there it is”, you said and poked his cheek with you finger. Your fingers traveled down a little further to his neck and you couldn’t stop yourself and tickled him. “Ah, stop it”, he slapped your hand away and let out the sweetest giggle.

 You took a step back and leaned against the bar again. “Okay, I know now what to get you”, he said and gestured to the bartender. He leaned over the counter to place his order, but because of the loud music, you couldn’t hear what he said to the man.

 A few moments later, the bartender placed two shots in front of Alex. You shot him a look as he moved one glass over to you. “What is that?”, you asked with a suspicious look. “You know it”, he winked at you and the way he said it made you even more suspicious. You took the glass and put it up to your nose to take a quick sniff. A familiar smell filled your nostrils and you immediately pulled a face. It was the same liquor Alex had poured you about two weeks ago after your miserable apartment hunt.

 “Oh Jesus Christ!”, you shouted and shook your whole body at that smell. “Come on”, he tried to persuade you with wiggling eyebrows. “I hate you”, you glared at him playfully. “No, you love me! And now CHUG CHUG CHUG!”, he banged his fist on the bar counter repeatedly to cheer you on. As you put the glass to your lips, he mirrored your movements. You took one last breath of encouragement before you downed your drink with one big sip, just as Alex.

 “FUCK!”, you yelled out as the liquid made its way down your throat and it almost made you cough. “Is that a way to greet a friend?”, you heard in a familiar Australian accent behind you. You turned around to find Jordan standing there. “Hey, hi”, you greeted him with a hug and a peck on the cheek.

 Shortly after came Marco and then Georgia. “Hey girl”, she greeted you. “Hey girl”, you greeted her right back with a hug. “Ida can’t make it tonight, her parents are in town”, Georgia told you. “Shame, I would have loved to see her again as well”, you said. “She wanted to see you again too! She promised she will join us next time”, she said.

 “How about we start the night with a round of shots?”, Alex asked the little group. “But I’m ordering this time. You only order undrinkable stuff”, you playfully pushed Alex aside to gesture to the bartender. “Are you showing us your party trick again?”, Jordan asked with a smirk. “No, this time I’ll gladly pay for it”, you stuck out your tongue to him and then turned around to find the bartender waiting for your order.

 “Hey, pretty lady, what can I get ya?”, he asked with a smile. “Give me 5 shots”, you replied with a flirty smile. “Great choice. I make great special-shots”, he told you while he grabbed 5 glasses and then several liquor bottles. “Yeah? What’s so special about them?”, you asked him and leaned a bit closer to watch what he was doing. “Can’t tell you, it’s a secret family recipe”, he winked at you and made you laugh.

 He mixed all kinds of liquids in a shaker and then poured them into the 5 shot glasses. “And…they come at a special price, just tonight, just for you”, he told you as he put the glasses on the counter in front of you. “Is that so?”, you asked with an anticipating smile. “A peck on the cheek and another one of your gorgeous smiles”, he leaned onto the bar counter on his side and came quite close to your face, but not in a weird way. “If your boyfriend doesn’t mind, of course”, he said and nodded towards Alex.

 You took a quick look over your shoulder and saw that Alex was talking to Marco, not noticing what was going on here. “He’s not my boyfriend”, you clarified, then got on your tiptoes to kiss his right cheek. “This is for the drinks”, then turned to his left cheek and gave him another kiss. “And this is for you”, you smiled at him as you leaned back. He winked at you one last time then moved over to the other end of the bar to take other orders. He turned back around to look at you once more, but you had already turned around to your friends again, and missed it.

 “There you go”, you handed your friends their drinks and closed up the circle you all were standing in. “I might be wrong, but did I miss the part where she was actually paying for the drinks?”, Jordan asked with a sarcastic tone. “What can I do? Sometimes that just happens”, you shrugged your shoulders with an innocent smile. You all clinked glasses and downed your drinks.

 “Now I wanna dance”, you said as you placed your glass back on the bar. “Wanna join me, Georgia?”, you asked and held out your hand. “Definitely”, she handed her glass over to Jordan, who put it on the bar with an eyeroll, and took your hand. You both strutted over to the dancefloor and started to dance next to and around each other.

 Lights flashing, beats hammering, you completely lost yourself in the music and the atmosphere. After a little while, you saw someone dancing towards you. As you turned your head, you saw Alex coming at you with some funny moves that made you laugh. You both jumped around, making fun of each other, laughing. You took his hands and put them around your hips as you simultaneously turned around in his arms, now facing away from him. You wiggled your ass lightly against him, teasing him a bit. He put his arms even closer around you and pulled you against him. For a second you let yourself get lost in the moment and closed your eyes. It had been a while since you’ve been so close to a man.

 The next second, you snapped out of your trance and took a few steps forward, away from him. He held you back at your hand, spun you around so you were finally facing him and pulled you close again. He placed his other hand on your lower back, his little finger touching the skin between your shirt and your jeans. He swayed you in the beat of the song for a few seconds then made you spin and dipped you backwards, holding you with his strong arms.

 You were so surprised by his movements that you squealed in excitement and laughed when he pulled you back up. You playfully slapped his chest. “Hey, don’t do that to me, you were scaring me”, you shouted over the music, leaning in close so he was actually able to hear you. “Oh, shut up, you liked it”, he yelled back and looked at you. You stared into his blue eyes and felt a bit dizzy. Just a blink of an eye later, the atmosphere between you two changed again and it was back to fun dancing with your friend.

 While you were busy dancing with Alex, you missed out on a little chat Jordan was having with Marco at the bar. “Alex and Y/N are sleeping together”, Jordan said and grabbed the beer the bartender had just placed next to him. “What? Really? Did he say something to you?”, Marco asked him. “No, he didn’t say anything. But look at them”, he said and pointed at Alex and you dancing a few feet away from them. “Look how they are with each other, that tension”, Jordan described his observations. “But he’s also with Gee like that. The laughing, the dancing, the flirting…and they’re just friends”, Marco countered.

 “Yeah, but it’s not the same with Y/N. There is something between them, look”, he said and took a sip from his bottle. Both him and Marco watched you dance and goof around on the dancefloor. “I don’t know, man. He just took that girl home from set today”, Marco said, not sure to believe what his friend had just told him. “So? Just a little distraction”, Jordan said and shrugged his shoulders. “I tell you, if they’re not already fucking, they’re about to. I promise you”, Jordan said.

Georgia appeared next to them, a little breathless from dancing. She grabbed the bottle out of Jordan’s hands and took a big sip. “Who’s fucking?”, she asked and tried to see who the two men were looking at. “Jordan thinks that Alex and Y/N are sleeping together”, Marco got her up to speed. “Or are about to”, Jordan added and snatched his bottle back out of Gee’s hand. “Oh definitely”, she nodded agreeing. She had spotted you two in the crowd. “I mean, look at them”, she said and nodded towards you. Marco gave you two a second look. Sure, Alex was talking about you quite often on set, but he couldn’t say it was different to when he talked about other people that were close to him. Maybe he only talked about you more because you were new to his group of friends and that would be it. But what did he know…

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