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t-o-m-hollands · 3 years

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Summary: You travel to meet Tom who is away filming. Since he is sharing a house with Harrison who is expected back at any second you have to make a decision; be quick - or quiet?

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Word count: 2,3 k

Warnings: Extended warnings under read more - but this is smut and strictly +18.

Notes: This is sort of set in the same universe as The Bet just a few months later - BUT you do not have to have read that story to read this one, since there is literally zero plot in this. PWP, like truly. There isn’t even a hint of plot. A liiittle bit corny/fluffy. Also, they are both idiots, like I cannot stress this enough, they are both so dumb.

Also I am once again staying up too late to write smut while tipsy. It is what it is.

Extended warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Little bit of stripping from Tom. Some teasing. Talk about bondage but no actual bondage in this. Spanking. Hand around throat; though no choking. Derogatory language.

You fall through the door and into each other’s arms and it would have been romantic if he had managed to catch you as you lounge at him and remain standing on his feet. As it is, you both tumble over and fall to the ground.

“Tom, for god’s sake!”

“Oh hush! At least you landed softly on my chest! I took the hard hit!”

“Babe, there’s nothing soft about your chest and we both know it”.

But by this point his lips have been removed from yours for too long and so instead of arguing he pulls you in for a kiss, deep and raw and hungry, his hands in your hair pulling you closer towards himself; closer, closer and closer still. Your hair is loose and your lips are bitten and wet from his kisses and his jeans feel uncomfortable tight over the crotch. Your so fucking beautiful and for a moment he thinks about just fucking you right here and now; on the hard wooden floor of the hallway, surrounded by a mess sneakers, umbrellas and Wellington boots. He’d fuck you quick and hard and fueled up on lust Or perhaps make it to the dining room table and bend you over that; your beautiful ass in the air and his fist in your hair. Or maybe up against the hall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you.

But the threat of Harrison returning any moment feels very real indeed, even as you’re on top of him, rubbing yourself against him like a cat in heat. Groaning at what he has to do he lays his hands on the sides of your hips, making you stop your grinding. Pushing you upward you soon take the hint and stand up, pulling you with him and honestly, he was going to lead you into the bedroom - honestly, he was. But you look at him and bite your swollen lip, still wet from kisses and suddenly you’re pushed up against the wall, your lips back where they should always be; on him.

He’s hard as a rock; has been since he picked you up at the airport. On the drive back to the house the studio has rented for him and Haz while they’re filming your hand never left his lap, just kept stroking and stroking his dick. You had offered to give him a blowjob and honestly, he’d lie if he said he wasn’t considering it. But just the thought of your mouth around his dick after months spent apart has him seeing stars. He would never have been able to concentrate on the road if that happened. That and the fact that he had been able to think about nothing else than coming inside your warm cunt for weeks now.

“We gotta be quiet babe, Haz will be back soon” he says, in between urgent kisses, his hand over your breast; playing with your nipple through the fabric. “Think you can be quick?”

“Honey, I didn’t travel for eight hours to be quick.”

“Fine, then you’ll have to be quiet” and before you have time to respond he takes hold of your thighs and he lifts you up in the air. You fall forward, bending over his shoulder, and he slaps your ass as he walks over to the bedroom. Somewhere on the way you drop your ballerina flats but he keeps walking. You half-laugh, half-protes the entire way there, kicking your legs and ordering him to put you down. When he reaches the bed he does and you fall down on it; landing with your back against the soft mattress.

Your gorgeous legs are spread and so much skin visible in your short jeans shorts; his white dress shirt that you have burrowed tucked into the hem. You bite your lip again and look up at him through your lashes, knowing very well the effect it has on him.

Well, two can play that game.

Looking you right in the eye he brings his hands to the hem of his shirt and slowly lifts it, revealing the muscles underneath. Pulling it over his head he throws it on the clean ground; having taken the time yesterday to clean up the mess of the house before your visit. He kicks off his shoes and then, smiling wickedly at your wide eyes, he places his hands on his belt, slowly unfastening it.

You reach out to touch him but he reprimands you. “Nah-ah, don’t think so darling. Take off your shirt.”

To his endless surprise; you do what you're told. Unbuttoning your shirt and discarding it on the floor you smile up at him. You aren’t wearing a bra.

“You traveled all the way here like that?” He asks in disbelief; and now it is he who wants to reach out his hands and touch you.

“I don’t like the thought of them seeing my bra in those scanner things at the airport” you shrug.

“So…” and he rubs his forehead, not knowing what else to do with himself “so you decided it was better to just not wear anything?”

You shrug again, unfaced. “Look, I’m not saying my logic makes sense but-”

“Seems a stretch to call it logic then, doesn’t it?”

“Tom” you whine, “I love you, but just remove your fucking pants and shove your dick in me already!”

And so he moves his hands to the zipper of his jeans, where a bulge is clear to see. Still smiling he slowly drags it down before shoving his trousers over his hips, letting them fall to the ground. Stepping out of them he kicks them to the side; leaving him just in his boxers which he swiftly removes as well.

Standing in front of you, completely naked, as you stare at his body with fervent hunger and blazing need makes him feel almost invincible.

“Take off your shorts” he orders and it surprises him how low and lustful his voice sounds, even to his own ears.

Again you do as he says and he stares at you as you slowly reveal more of the beautiful skin of your body. He wonders if you feel as adored when he looks at you as he does when you look at him. He hopes you do.

You remove your underwear as well, laying back against the bed to shimmy out of them. He takes a step forward, grabs hold of your ankles as you dangle them in the air. Placing himself in between them he takes one of your uplifted legs and he kisses the soft inside of your calf.

“Gonna tie these up one day” he says and kisses your skin again. “Tie them up and tease you for hours. Really take my time and drag it out until you’re shaking and breathless and so desperate to come all you can say is ‘please, Tom’”.

He hears how your breath picks up, and can practically sense you growing wetter. Your eyes are glossy with want already.

Reaching down to your core he slips a finger in you with ease. He snickers. “I’ve barerly even touched you and you’re already this wet?”

Since you can’t deny it you buck your hips up for more instead. He bends down and kisses the tender skin above your ribs with an open mouth. It’s soft and sweet and in sharp contrast from the finger moving inside you; that is all rough and quick movements.

Moving up he places his wet mouth around one of your nipples and you writhe underneath him, your legs hugging onto his waist. Sucking on the sensitive flesh, gently nippling down on it, he then blows cold air on the wet spot and you moan, bucking up against his hand; that is still moving in and out of you.

“More” you demand in another moan, and you lift your hips up, holding yourself up by your legs around his waist, pressing yourself against him

“This is why you should be tied up,” he says, biting your nipple again. You moan and continue to push yourself against him.

He leans back, grabs a hold of your hips, and twists you until you fall over on your stomach. He spanks your ass, hard; one time, two times, three times, four times. Two on each side. It only has you writhing all the more underneath him.

He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass in his hands and groans. Moving his hands over your lower back, pressing his palms in almost as if massaging you. Your body is tense, but he knows your body well, knows its because of anticipation for what’s to come. Slowly he removes his big hands from your back, instead slowly dragging his short-nailed finger up over your spine. He watches in fascination as you shower beneath him.

While he was away filming he had bought a guitar. Had practised the instrument for hours trying to make it play him the perfect sound. But as he drags his finger up your spine again and you whimper he knows that your body is the only instrument he wants to perfect.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Yes” you say, a little breathlessly.

And again his palm connects with your skin, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the empty house. Again and again and again he does it. You squirm beneath him, gasping and moaning and clasping at the sheets; pushing back against his palm, eager for more. He spanks you until your skin feels warm, so he moves his hand in soothing circles over the tender place as you breathe out a sigh.

“Come here” he says, and his voice is gruff and tender with need for you. Pulling you up towards him until you back is pressed against his chest, your legs widely spread so your thighs are outlining his and your glistening wet cunt is pressed against his dick.

Playing with the tip of his cock, teasing it against your entrance he whispers rasperly in your ear, “think you can be quiet?”

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, and nod eagerly.

“You sure?” he asks, continuing to tease you. “You see, Haz could come back any second now and we wouldn’t want him to hear you, would we?”

You shake your head, and god, you really must want this because you waste no time arguing with him. So he decides to reward you and slips himself into you; pulls your body even closer to yours.

You bite your lip to hold back the moan but it slips through your lips anyway.

He moves a hand up to your throat, places his Rolex clad wrist around it, and the other hand around your waist; guiding you up and down over his cock, as if you were bouncing in his lap. Your breasts move up and down with the movement and honestly he wishes he had more arms so that he could touch you everywhere at once.

When another moan falls from your lips he shushes you gently in your ear, “ now, now” he warns.

He lifts you higher up and higher up by each movement, before pressing you down harder and deeper against him

And then you both hear it. A car driving up the driveway.

Haz is home.

He slams you down against him again and the ecstatic sound that leaves you is positively animalistic. He reaches for your panties, discarded on the side of the bed. Balling them up he moves it to your mouth and obligingly you open it. He shoves them in before tenderly kissing the side of your lips. Your eyes are tight shut in concentration, trying with all your might not to make a sound as you hear footsteps walking by outside.

“Remember, quiet now” he warns, mouth pressed against your ear.

Yet you make a deep, wanton moan and he fuck up into you even harder, grinds your hips against his until your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Think you like this darling” he whispers again against your ear. “Think you like the thought of maybe getting caught. Think you like knowing that this is what I’ll think of for those months we spend apart and I gotta take care of myself.”

He pushes you up and forward, until you’re on your hands and knees for him and with one swift movement he’s inside you agains; the angle so perfect it has him seeing stars.

“Almost made me come before I was ready there” he says and spanks your ass, though not as hard as last time.

You're slick and wet and he can see it running down your thigh and he wants to groan in pleasure but outside he’s pretty sure Harrison is talking to the neighbor, looking for his keys.

He pulls you up closer to him and slams into you until you're clenching around him, your skin so hot against his thighs it feels like they are on fire. He knows you love this position and its clear in your tense, arched body.

He leans down and to out of breath now to whisper he says in a hushed voice, “he’ll be inside the house soon, you gonna be quiet? Or is Haz about to find out just how slutty you are?”

Your answer is yet another moan, muffled against your panties.

So he fucks into you; hard and fast and deep and it’s like the pleasure is everywhere; clouding his eyes from seeing clearly and stopping his lungs from breathing freely. Your toes are curled and your back is arched and it all feels so overwhelmingly and blissfully intense; so fragile and vivid and frantic it’s like neither of your body quite knows what to do with all the pleasure. Like you are both about to combust from it.

His arms and legs are shaking with the effort and he feels sweat running down his back. But then you shake as well and he feels you convulse around him and god - it’s heaven.

It takes a while before you both return to reality. He removes your underwear from your mouth and gently kisses your lips; pulling you in close against him.

“Love you” he says and kisses the tip of your nose. “Thank you for visiting.”

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic

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honey-dewey · 3 years

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A Challenging Affair

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 1,976

Warnings: None! This is 100% fluff

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Shane wasn’t exactly the most up to date on current internet trends and challenges, but when you introduce him to a very interesting clothing challenge, it seems he can’t say no. Could today finally be the day New York City sees the Goth King wear some color?

“Babe!” You said, falling onto the bed beside Shane. “Babe, look at this!”

Shane rolled over from where he’d been working on his laptop and looked at your phone. “The fuck is that?”

“It’s a TikTok challenge,” you explained. “Aren’t you on TikTok?”

“Maybe?” Shane said, confused. “I don’t even know anymore.”

You groaned. “You’re such an old man!” You said. “Shane Morrissey, the goth king of New York City, and he can’t operate his own damn phone.”

Shane elbowed you, causing you to squeal with laughter and roll away from him. “Watch yourself,” he warned you with a smile. “Or I’ll feed you to the dogs.” He rolled on top of you and blew a raspberry into your exposed belly, causing you to kick him, laughing uncontrollably.

“Shane!” You screamed, flailing. “Quit!”

“Aww,” Shane said, sliding off you and pouting. “But tormenting you is such fun.”

You gave his shoulder a small shove, reaching for your phone. “But did you see the challenge?”

The mattress creaked as Shane flopped down next to you. “No.”

You held your phone out. “It’s a couples challenge. The two people go to a thrift store or something and buy an outfit for their significant other, then they wear those outfits on a date. It looks cute.”

“Is this a coincidence?” Shane asked, raising his eyebrows. “Or do you know we’re doing date night tonight.”

“It might be a coincidence,” you said, nudging up against Shane. “But since you said we have date night tonight, why don’t we try it!”

Shane made a very unimpressed face at you, but shrugged. “Okay. I don’t care. But I get to pick the store.”

You held your hand out to shake. “Deal!”

In the end, Shane picked a place you and him both knew very well. The owners were good friends of yours and they were all excited to help you with the challenge when you explained it to them.

“Alright,” Elon, one of the owners, said. “Here are your bags.” They handed you and Shane each a solid black bag so the other couldn’t peek. “You have each other’s clothing sizes. Go forth and conquer!”

Immediately, you and Shane split up. You headed towards the sweaters and he headed for the shoes. Humming along to the music, you went through the soft shirts, ruling most of them out because they had too much of a pattern. You had quite the opportunity to put Shane in the most colorful shit you could find, but you weren’t that mean. Instead, you tried to find a balance between color and Shane.

Finally, your digging around rewarded you with a perfect sweater in Shane’s size. It was a faded grey blue with small black stars, and you knew just by looking at it that it would work well on Shane. Putting it in your bag, you left to go ask your boyfriend a question.

“No peeking,” Shane said warningly as you approached him. You smiled, looping your arm through his and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“I’m not peeking,” you said. “Just wanted to ask you a question.”

Shane continued to look at shoes, although you could plainly see the outline of a pair in his bag. “Fire away.”

“Do I have to get you pants?”

Shane froze for a second, trying to comprehend what you’d just said. “As opposed to getting me what?”

You shuffled your feet a tiny bit. “A skirt?”

“Oh.” Shane loosened, shrugging. “Yeah. Go ahead. I don’t care. I’ve told you plenty of times that gender is just a construct meant to control the masses.”

You giggled. “Don’t go all Dio on me,” you said. “I know you’re a giant dork under all that leather.”

Shane scrunched his face up, coughing you to laugh. “Mhm,” he hummed. “Now go away. I’m shopping.”

Giving Shane one last kiss, you walked away to find the right skirt for your sweater.

It wasn’t hard. You knew what would look good on him, and you found his size in a soft black overall skirt almost immediately. The skirt flared pretty well, and upon further examination, you found that it was a circle skirt. Tossing it and a pair of sheer black tights in your bag, you only had one more thing to find. Shoes.

On your way to the shoes, you got distracted. You’d intended to let Shane wear his regular jewelry, but passing the small display, you backtracked and grabbed a small ring with a beautiful Aries constellation on it.

You bumped into Shane, almost literally, as you rounded a corner. He smiled at you, gently guiding you around him so you two didn’t collide. “Watch it,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you hurting the pretty face of yours.”

Blushing, you scowled at Shane, sticking your tongue out at him as you walked away. He mimicked the gesture, showing off his rarely seen tongue piercing.

Shoes weren’t hard. Shane cycled through three different pairs of platform boots and two pairs of solid black Doc Martens, so you decided to let Shane continue with his current pair of shoes, which were one of the Doc pairs. You almost put a pair of hot pink crocs in the bag, just to screw with Shane, but you had told yourself you’d be kind, and hot pink crocs didn’t seem very kind, even if it was hilarious.

“I’m done,” you said cheerfully, walking over to where Shane was looking at shirts. “You?”

“I’ve been done,” Shane said. “Here.” He held out the bag for you. You exchanged it for your bag for him, swapping. “Ready?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yep! Let’s go!”

Elon’s girlfriend, Lucy, got you both set up in changing rooms, smiling at you knowingly. “Oh honey,” she said to you. “Dio got damn lucky with his pick.”

Suddenly nervous, you began to get changed.

The outfit wasn’t bad. In fact, you liked it. A cute pair of mom jeans with embroidered flowers around the folded ankles and the pockets, a white jersey knit shirt that you tucked loosely into the pants, a pair of white socks, and a pair of yellow buttercup earrings made up the outfit, but you couldn’t find the shoes.

“Shane?” You said, confused. “Where are the shoes?”

“There aren’t any in my bag either,” Shane said over the gap in the wall.

“You’re supposed to wear your Docs,” you said. “Should I wear my sneakers?”

“No,” Shane said. “I have your shoes. I wanted to see your face when I gave them to you.”

You pouted, leaving the dressing room and making a face at Lucy, who had her lips pressed together in barely contained amusement.

Shane stepped out of his dressing room, and your pour melted away. “You look so good!” You said eagerly.

Truthfully, Shane did look really good. The sweater was a tiny bit big, but that added to the aesthetic. The skirt was just the right length, and you couldn’t wait to run your hands across his thighs in public and give him a taste of his own teasing medicine. He shuffled in his shoes, shrugging.

“It’s too much color,” he said finally, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“It’s one faded blue sweater,” you pointed out. “Be glad I didn’t pick the neon rainbow tie dye shirt.”

Shane fake gagged, causing you and Lucy to laugh.

“Okay,” Shane said, holding out a shoe box. “Sit.”

You sat down on a stool, closing your eyes at Shane’s request and putting your feet in his lap when he sat on the floor. You could feel him sliding each shoe onto your feet, and you tried to guess what they were.

“Are they platforms?” Shane adjusted the laces on the left shoe.

“No.” Shane pulled the laces on the left shoe tight.

“Docs?” Shane was adjusting the right shoe laces now.

“Yes.” Shane pulled on the right laces. You could feel your foot move as he tied them.

“Can I open my eyes?” You were super eager to see the shoes.

You felt Shane shuffle back, so your feet were no longer in his lap. “Yes.”

You opened your eyes, immediately gasping. The shoes were hideous and you adored them. You’d been trying to find a pair of these Docs in your size for years, but they had stopped making them a decade ago. “Are these the Pascal Darcys?”

Shane was smiling. “Those are the god awful Pascal Darcy Docs you desperately wanted,” he confirmed. “Lucy said Elon found a pair a few days ago, and when she told me they were in your size, I knew I had to get them for you.”

You all but launched yourself into Shane’s arms. “You absolute bastard!” You said happily, hugging him tight. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Shane said, holding you almost as tight as you were holding him. “Now c’mon, I believe we have a date tonight.”

Reluctantly, you took everything off and paid for it, carrying the bags home and trying to resist the urge to pull your new boots out and break them in with a trip around the block.

When you got home, you and Shane changed, and Shane wiped his heavy makeup away for something lighter and simpler.

“Can I do your makeup?” You asked, standing in the bathroom with Shane. “I picked your outfit, so it makes sense.”

Shane looked at you with his eyebrows raised. “No sabotage?”

You gasped. “You think too little of me!” You said, picking up Shane’s liquid eyeliner pen. “I would never.” You quickly kissed Shane’s nose. “I promise,” you added softly. “No sabotage.”

Shane sat still as you did his makeup, not going overboard because you didn’t want to. Instead, you kept it simple with a small amount of eyeliner and a bit of extra blush across his cheeks and nose.

“I think I should return the favor,” Shane said, standing once you were finished. “Gimme the brush.”

“I’m already perfect,” you shot back, but handed him the brush anyway.

You ended up with the same treatment as Shane. Some eyeliner and blush was all he decided you needed before he was telling you to go put your shoes on. You didn’t need to be told twice, racing off to go put your new boots on.

“Do you still love them?” Shane asked, putting his arm around you as you walked out of the building.

“Do you still think they’re ugly?” You asked back, smiling.

Shane sighed, smiling. “They’re really not my thing,” he said. “But I’m glad you love them.”

You grinned, kicking your foot as best you could while walking. “I love them,” you said.

Your date ended up being an early dinner at a local cafe and then you and Shane wandering around a tiny used bookstore for almost an hour. You didn’t buy anything, you just enjoyed the book smell and the calming atmosphere, losing yourself among the stacks of old books. The owner was a witch, and you found Shane talking to her about tarot cards. You pressed yourself to Shane’s side, yawning and snuggling closer to his sweater.

Shane instinctively put an arm around you, holding you to him. You smiled. “Can we go home?” You asked softly. “I’m tired.”

“Of course,” Shane said, kissing your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow Beth.”

Beth waved as you two went, walking silently home.

When you fell into bed, in your pyjamas and half asleep already, you were surprised to see Shane follow you, still wearing his sweater. The skirt and tights had been exchanged for sweatpants, and his shoes were discarded somewhere in the bathroom.

“Did you have fun?” Shane asked, snuggling close to you.

You nodded, sleepily humming. “Yeah. Thank you for indulging me today.”

Shane smiled, pulling the blankets up to cover the both of you. “For you, my dove, anything.”

#nypd blue #shane 'dio' morrissey #dio morrissey #dio morrissey x reader #dio morrissey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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therealvalkyrie · 2 years

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*runs through the window* I hear Levi with a tall s/o head cannons? 👀

Here are some of mine:

- sometime after he first meets you, he has to ask you for help getting something from the top shelf. Is SUPER bashful and when you just give him an amused and teasing smile, he swears he’ll melt right then and there

- he had this complex he needs to be the one to take care of others, and insists on being the big spoon. At first. When you finally convince him to relax for once and let you take care of him, he has to hold himself from crying. He feels so loved

- you two are heading to a party, and he wants to practically worship you when you wear your heeled boots that make you ever taller, with a dress or other outfit that accentuates the length of your legs

- if you model, he’s so proud when he sees you getting photographed or walking down a runway. Bonus points if he’s your photographer and even more points if that’s how you two met.

*stands amidst the shards of glass vibrating with excitement*

LEVI WITH TALL READER!!!! HOW COULD I FORGET MY FAV DYNAMIC OF LITERALLY ALL TIME!!!!!!!

he's SO embarrassed the first time he asks you to get something he can't reach, like maybe a little snippy with you, but he still gives you a kiss on the cheek and a grumbly little "thank you" when you hand it to him<3 and if his favorite teas are all of a sudden stored on top of the fridge? well that's nobody's business but your own.

i think he really likes being held, but like you said has this complex around it, BUT!! I, specifically, don't like to be the little spoon, so I think this would work out well for the both of us. first time we're cuddling, and I'm like "ummmm I'm sorry if this is weird but can I be the big spoon" and he's so relieved that he falls asleep in 2 fuckin minutes. my big baby<3

if u ever ask him about opinions on outfits, he's always approving shorter skirts or dresses. hides your flats and sneakers when there's an event coming up, and when you complain that your feet are gonna hurt, he's just all "what am I, useless? I'll give you a foot massage u big baby"

TALL MODEL READER X PHOTOGRAPHER LEVI!!!!! where they show up to events together and everyone's like "wow it's great how they have such an amazing working relationship:) they're such good friends:)" only to be scandalized when at the end of the night the paparazzi catch you two kissing out back, him on the step above you so he can get the right angle<3

ugh that was so delicious. gonna be in my brain for days THANK YOU BEAN I ADORE YOU!!1!

#bean #mootual appreciation #ask valkyrie #inbox clearout

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years

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101 Dalmatians / Rosa Diaz Imagine

Request: I can't get this out of my head. I was wondering if you could write this B99 meets 101 Dalmatians imagine? Like, Rosa and the reader are walking their dogs, but they get tangled around the leashes and end up falling? So they go to the reader's apartment or sit on a bench to dry out and find out that they like each other?

This is so cute I literally can’t get it out of my head @trench-coat-wearing-angel!! I haven’t seen 101 Dalmations in a long time so I hope this is okay <3

Please comment if you can, it really does keep me writing!

Although she hated to admit it, the park by the precinct was beautiful.

She hated the ones in smaller towns. The miniature, empty, formal gardens that were created only for the elderly and retired - although she would never admit it, she found them too quiet, too creepy. She had grown used to the noise, the hustle and bustle of Brooklyn, the acres of concrete interspersed with neat grass verges. She had grown familiar with the vendors and their hotdogs and burgers, vendors with curry and rice, vendors with tacos and sour cream. There's always music, sometimes clashing from various sources, none of them official.

It always felt as if anything could happen. She would never admit it, but she loved that thrill of adventure.

Entering the park, a slight breeze rustles the leaves, making them fall to the ground by your feet one by one.The air was warm, the beams of sunlight glowing on your skin as you breathed it in, being justled towards the grass by the puppy tugging on its maroon leash. Flowers are vast, and they conceal the freshly cut green grass, the one your dog is now rolling its face in, forehead speckled emerald as it jumps up panting. You smile to yourself as you pass playing children and the parents talking among each other, making your way down the walkway.

Neither of you can see Rosa yet. She lifts up her glasses, winding the blue leash further around her fingers as she watches Arlo bounce his little puppy paws along the loose pebbles, spitting them out against her combat boots.

A sudden tug on your arm draws you out of your daydream, laughing at your dog as he pulls you away from the little marshmallow clouds you rarely see during this time of the year in New York. Your eyes follow your dog’s path, gaze set as he stops with his tail straight up, and saw, coming down towards the two of you, another dog. It was one of the quietest and peacefullest dogs you had ever seen: it seemed so content, floating dreamily along the ground. On he came, serene, dignified, and calm, and with him came the most beautiful women you had ever seen.

You tried not to stare as she approached, but she hadn’t spotted you yet, and you were trying to figure out from afar if her eyes looked brown, but as she nears you notice the colored specks of honey. They're bright and liquid warm, sprinkled with light brown specks, framed by beautiful thick lashes.

You try not to gasp, to make your eyes squeeze down to their normal size again, but all that happens is that you lose control. Your doggo runs off, zigzagging towards Rosa and dragging you with them, until he’s done a complete loop of her legs and you have butted head first into her forehead. The two of you let go of your leads in shock, Rosa grunting slightly in confusion as the doggos lie on their backs next to each other, gently headbutting each other with their button noses, not paying a jot of attention towards the pond.

The pond that shimmers with emerald moving across the deep green surface as if light itself could be blown across it by the wind. The opaque waters were icy even in the shallows.

And it was into this that both you and Rosa fell, arms entangled in each other with a tight grip, your head butting into the dip of her chest as the water flows over your head.

The bench was an old brass colour that reminded Rosa of a murder weapon. Strange, she knew, but there was something menacing about the twirling swirls of metal that wound like spikes around the top as she let her fingers fall to the surface, feeling the heat of the day that had soaked into the metal. The bench was typical of the parks, the rosy cedar browns married to the iron that curved into the great arms and grew into ever-blooming flowers to rest on.

The bench had been exposed to the elements for many seasons, but still she ran them over the swirls in the wood grain as she talked hesitantly to you.

She sat, not without patience, but feeling as if her legs had been glued to the seat, Arlo napping with loud snores by her feet, just allowing the rays to dry her damp clothes.

Plus, she was surprised to find that she was actually enjoying another person’s company, considering the circumstances.

‘I really am so sorry, again’, you murmur, a shy blush littering your cheeks as your feet squelch in your sneakers.

‘It’s fine, Y/n, totally. Most exciting thing that’s happened to me all day.’

‘You need a new job then’, you laugh slightly, trying to look Rosa in the eyes as she raises an eyebrow at you.

‘I’m a detective at the 99, which can be pretty cool. Sometimes. We get a lot less wet.’

‘Oh, I work at the 89! In the I.T. department, isn’t that so strange. I guess we have good taste.’

Your fingers reach out, gently bumping against her shoulder as you giggle - nothing more than a fleeting touch, an instinct of nerves that lasts no more than a few seconds, but Rosa’s skin begins tingling where you touched her and her heart beat erratically in my chest so hard that I thought it might fly out. There were butterflies, no, lions in her chest, but it felt nice, for once.

She finally admitted to herself what she had known when you first fell into her arms, but was too afraid to admit it: she liked you. Too much for comfort.

She blurts it out.

‘I want to see you again!’

‘...I would like that, Rosa. Perhaps somewhere a little less damp, this time.’

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hobbitsnapes · 4 years

Text

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 5

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @bakketsux)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

A light streams through the blinds, shining a light into Damians eyes as he stirs awake. He opens his eyes and looks around him for the cause of him waking up besides the light.

He looks down and sees Titus awake sitting on his feet. The large dogs ears perk up at seeing him awake. Damian sits up and scratches behind the large dogs ears, a smile forming on his face at the sight of his dogs tongue hanging from his mouth. Titus rolls into his back as Damian rubs his tummy.

Damian gets up and goes to his closet. Pulling out some sweatpants and a random shirt. He puts his clothes on and brushes his hair back to tame the mess of bed head hair he’s got. Titus barks at him signaling that he’s tired of waiting.

Damian smiles and grabs the handle to the door and Titus walks down the large hallway towards the kitchen. When he walks in he sees Tim pouring his usual mug of black coffee with enough sugar to rot a persons teethe. His long hair falling in his face clad in a white button up shirt and dark brown slacks with black dress shoes.

Damian walks over and grabs Titus his bowl and puts his food in for him, the dog munching almost immediately after its set on the ground. He grabs some bread and throws it in the toaster. He then pours himself a glass of coffee.

The two men stand at the kitchen island and enjoy their breakfast in silence. Due to growing older and living in the same mansion for over 8 years the two brothers have simmered down their obvious hated towards one another. They aren’t close by any means, but they can stay in a room together and not try to rip their throats out. Sometimes they can even have a small conversation here and there without a screaming match. Tim grabs some papers off the table, and heads to the door on his way to presumably a meeting.

After him and Titus finish eating he puts his cup in the sink and heads back to his room to get ready for the day properly.

He goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth and grabs his sneakers and heads out the door.

He steps outside and is hit by the fresh smell of the flowers planted by the door, the ray of the sun a warm welcome to his bare skin as he strips his shirt off and starts his run. He runs around the manor a few times and then starts for the trail into the woods, Titus is right behind him as he jogs through the tall trees, the wind carrying a strong smell of oak and pine. He stops his run and heads back for the manor to finish up some work for the day.

The sound of the busy streets and yelling of people drown out any other sounds in the night as Damian swings from his grapple hook to a large building to watch over the dark but bright city.

He sees a figure on a rooftop and goes to inspect who it could be. He lands on the roof silently and watches the figure as they sit on the edge and look down.

“You know, for how quiet you are, you’d think of wearing all black so you don’t stand out like a soar thumb.” It was her, but why was she sitting on the ledge of a building? Shouldn’t she be with Jason? Or anything else? The questions kept swirling in his head until he heard her speak again.

“Are you just gonna stand there or something? Don’t you have crime to go fight?” “Tonight’s been fairly uneventful, no big drug deals, no evil scientists trying to kill us all or anything tonight. Seems like the bad guys took a vacation tonight.” “Who knows, maybe condiment king has something he’s planing, he’s gonna paint the whole city in ketchup and mustard!” This made Damian chuckle, “maybe crazy quilt plans to blanket the entire city in a huge quilt and drown us all in fabric.” He says back. This made the girl laugh, a laugh he never expected from her. It wasn’t full of sarcasm like he expected. It was almost a mix of a giggle and a regular belly laugh. The sound sounding, innocent almost.

She lowers her head as she laughs as a large warm smile graces her usually bratty and cold face. “M-maybe kite man and-and crazy quilt are teaming up to take over the city!!” She says through her laughs. This got Damian to laugh himself. Both enjoying the calm but funny atmosphere they have for the first time.

“Wow you can laugh, you could’ve fooled me into thinking you had no emotions like the bats.” “You know I’m not a robot, I do have some feelings.” “Yeah, I guess we all do don’t we. Even when we try our hardest not to show it.” Her once happy and playful voice taking a sad, broken sounding voice. She looks down at the city, Damian taking a seat a foot away from her. “Why are you up here?” “I could ask you the same thing.” “I saw you sitting here, didn’t know who you where until I got on the roof. But that doesn’t answer my question.” “Just some memories, that’s all I’m gonna say.”

The two sit there in silence as they watch over the city. The bright lights cashing a large light into the black sky. “Hey.” Damian looks at her, her head turned towards him but looking slightly down. “I’m sorry for saying you’re no robin. I see how much good you do for the city, and how much you care for the innocent. You’re just not what I expected whenever I thought of who robin is. But I’m not sorry for killing them. I don’t want to kill every single one. I get some can be helped and I want that. But some just can’t and will kill more and more until they die.” “As Batman always says, that’s not our decision to make. It’s not our job to decide who lives and who dies. Or job is to stop them and put them away.” “But what if you could save millions, just by ending one? What if you could make this city or even the world a better and safer place where people can enjoy life? Where, kids won’t be ripped away from their family?” Her voice broke as she said kids. He wonders what could’ve happened to her but before he can think anymore she stands up. “I’m gonna head towards the docks and see if there’s anything.” She jumps off the building but before she hits the ground she grapples towards the next building, Damian watching her until she disappears into the night.

The sounds of guns being loaded and the heavy footsteps of boots walking on the floor fills the small room. Angel starts putting on her suit in her bedroom. Starting at the legs and pulling the tight material up her legs, then when it reaches her hips she takes a deep breath as she slips it up her torso and her arms. She then Secures her hood over her head, finally putting her mask on and heads out her door.

When she steps into the living room she sees Jason’s shoulders are tense, his body rigid as he hurily gets his weapons ready. “I don’t want you going out tonight.” “What, why?” She’s confused, she’s gone out plenty of times with him, she’s fought plenty of people and monsters twice his size and he’s never had an issue with it before, so why this time?

“It’s bane, it’s way too dangerous for you to go on this one. I’m not even gonna mess with him on this one.” “I’ve gone up against croc before and handled myself.” “And crocs just an animal. He’s lost so much of his humanity that his strength is literally that. His strength. Bane not only matches croc in brute force but he’s got brains of a genius. It’s way too dangerous and I don’t want you getting hurt. There’s just some criminals I don’t want you to fight up against and that’s final.” “You know I get I’m Legally your daughter but I’m not fragile. I have to learn at some point and I don’t want you to keep babying me.” “I said this is final. You’re not going out tonight.” “And what if you get hurt? What if he gets a hold of you and hurts you because you went alone?” “Yeah and I’d much rather be the one hurt or dead over my daughter!” At this point Jason has moved over to her, looking her dead in the eyes as he says this. “Yeah and you’re my dad! You know I sometimes can’t tell if you’re holding me back like a baby or if you’ve got a suicide wish! Is that why you won’t let me go after joker?!” “Don’t you DARE bring up that bastard's name!” At this point both of them are shouting at one another. The Loudness of their voices booming off the walls. “Well we have to at some point cause you treat me like I’m fragile glass that’ll break after one fucking hit!” “I SAID THIS IS FINAL! YOU’RE NOT GOING OUT ON THIS ONE TONIGHT! I’LL BE DAMNED IF I LOOSE YOU TOO!”

She can see tears threatening in Jason’s eyes. She doesn’t respond not out of fear of what he’ll do to her, but out of worry for the man she thinks of as her father. “Then I’ll be watching the news making sure you’re okay. Just please promise me one thing.” “What is it.” “Don’t get yourself killed, I need you just as much as you need me dad.” Her voice cracks as she speaks. Tears pooling in her eyes.

Jason pulls her into a bone crushing hug as tears escape both their eyes. “I promise I won’t sweet girl, I’ll never leave you.” “I love you dad..so much.” She sobs. “I love you too my sweet angel. I’ll always come home no matter what, you’re my world.” Jason kisses her forehead then let’s go of her. He puts his helmet on and steps out the door, taking a look at her and then shutting the door.

She paces around the living room as she watches the tv.

Fear and anxiety making it impossible to sit as she watches the mayhem unfold. Bane broke out of blackgate along with his mercenaries, the streets filled with bodies as the men forged on.

She has been keeping an eye out for Jason, he hadn’t been seen the entire night but she knew he was there. The men who fought alongside bane had bullet holes to the head as the numbers dwindled down.

While she was relieved to see he was keeping to his word by not going after bane, she was still frightened that the criminal mastermind would trick him and hurt him or, she couldn’t even imagine what the last option was as tears threatened again.

She stopped in her probably 100 track around the room at the sight of bane holding Jason in the air. Her heart stopped as he threw him as if he was a rag doll. She knows she promised him she wouldn’t go out. But at the sight of him laying on the ground was all she could think of as she strapped her weapons to herself. She never took her suit off in case something like this were to happen.

She ran out the door and hopped on her bike as she sped down the streets as fast as she could. The wind crashing against her, not helping the feeling of the blood pumping all throughout her body. Her heart hammering in her chest the closer she got.

She saw the sight of Batman fighting bane no more than 100 feet away as she jumped from her bike and sprinted to her dad.

In the time she got there Jason somewhat recovered enough to keep fighting. “I TOLD YOU TO STAY BACK!” He yelled as he fired off at another mercenary. “YEAH WELL I SAW YOU GET THROWN LIKE A DOLL AND SLIDE DOWN THE BUILDING LIKE A SLINKY!” She yells as she stabs a man charging after Jason. The pair fighting beside one another as more and more men try to take them down.

She sees a flash before her eyes and sees a man behind her knocked out. She looks up at the sight of Robin looking at her. She nods her head as she runs towards Jason. She pulls out her gun and shoots another man in the head and grabs another man's head and slams it into a window.

The adrenaline pumping through her as she fights the hardest she’s had to before. She’s gone up against plenty of men who are triple her size but has never gone up against trained assassins before.

She hears a yell come from behind her and sees Batman thrown into a building. His body laying on the ground momentarily. But as quickly as he was thrown he shakes his head and gets back up only to be picked up by the throat by bane. Before she can do anything Robin charges at him and hits him with enough force to knock bane onto the ground.

The 2 fight for a few seconds until she sees it. The shine of the blade coming into view and before it’s in the air she charges over and swings up and locks her legs around his head. She pulls her grappling gun and strangles him as she kicks him in the head whilst still holding the rope around his neck. But as she jumps off from him completely he reaches out and takes a hold of her and throws her to the ground. The impact alone knocking all the wind from her body as he hits her in the back. A scream ripping through her at the impact cuts through her. He hits her again in the side as another scream comes out but much weaker as she feels the pain rip through her from the inside out. But nothing is as bad as the searing white hot pain in her back.

As she lays on the ground the need to breathe becomes harder as she sees bane taken down.

She lays there as she hears footsteps come towards her. Fearing this is the end until a figure crouches down to her. The image fuzzy until she sees the cape and mask of robin. Even with a mask covering his eyes she sees the fear and panic cover his face. “Help me, please. It hurts so badly.” She sobs out as best as she can. “I know it does, I’m going to take you away from here, everything’s gonna be okay.” She feels him slowly pick her up and cradle her to his chest as she wraps her arms around him. His other arm going to her legs as he picks her up and starts running.

The feel of his arms holding her as her face is in his chest making her want to fall asleep as the pain subsides.

She doesn’t remember how long he ran for until she feels him lower to the ground whilst still holding her to him. He unwraps his arms from her legs and sets her on the ground. She opens her eyes to see him taking his cape off and ripping it and wrapping it around her thigh. She hadn’t even realized she had been cut until the sting of pressure from the material being wrapped around it. A groan leaving her body at it. “I know it hurts but I need to stop the bleeding.” He goes to her stomach and rubs slightly, the feel of his hands both firm but gentle as he feels for anything broken. A groan leaving her as he reaches her waist. “you broke your fourth rib on your right side but thankfully it missed your appendix. The best thing to do is to let it heal as it doesn’t feel detached. Where else does it hurt?” She can’t answer him as she feels as if she’ll fall asleep any second. “Hey hey hey stay with me okay. I know you’re tired but I need you to stay awake for me okay?” She hears the fear in his voice as she opens her eyes again. “Tell me where it hurts so I can help you.” She grabs his hand from around her, a small shock at the warmth of his skin. She brings it to the side of her back and a cry leaving her at the feeling of his palm resting on her skin. “There’s no bleeding and I don’t feel anything protruding out. Maybe when he threw you it knocked something out of place or twisted something.” “It just hurts so bad and I’m. Im so cold.” She shakes as the chill in the air reaches her bones. “Hold on let me help you.” His arms again wrap around her as she feels his cape being draped over her body. She’s again flushed to his chest as she hears him talking. “Batman I’m in an alley between a Italian restaurant and a maroon apartment building a quarter a mile away from your location. Bring red hood with you. Archangel was hurt but nothing dire but a broken rib, a gash on her right thigh and a possible spinal disc herniation on the upper back.” She didn’t hear anything back but knew her father was on his way to her. “I need you to stay away for me okay. Tell me how did your day go today?” “It went well, I watched a movie this afternoon.” “What was the movie?” “Star Wars the force awakens. It fucking sucked.” A laugh bubbles out from Damian at what she said. “Oh yeah, what made the movie suck?” “Where do I even fucking begin! Kyle ren is more angsty than you are and hux can go shove a lightsaber up his ass till it goes through his mouth. And Rey has more mommy and daddy issues than the Winchester brothers.” A large laugh comes out from Damian at the true anger coming from her. “You really don’t like that movie don’t you?” “Not at all. The director of that movies got more issues than Batman does.” “I don’t even know if that’s possible.” “I heard that you know.” The sound of the deep voice making both of them turn their heads and see the cape. Before they can say anything Jason runs over and wraps his arms around her. “This is why I didn’t want you coming out tonight. I thought I lost you.” “You won’t loose me, I’m never leaving.” Her back now turned from Damian, he looks and sees a large patch of blood from her right shoulder blade. “You’re shoulder blade is bleeding” he puts his hand on the area and a large scream rips out of her.

But not a pained scream, a scream so loud he didn’t see her turn around and claw at his face. She jumps on top of him and wraps her hands around his throat as she keeps screaming at him. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” She’s ripped off of Damian by Jason as she falls into Jason’s arms and sobs. But before he can say anything she takes off down the alley as fast as she can. The sight of her disappears as Jason runs after her. What could have happened to her?

@comic-nerd-dc @psychovigilante

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #older!damian wayne imagine #batfam x reader #batfamily #batman #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #tim drake #dc imagine #dc #dceu

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lennox-levin-little-lilith-did · 4 years

Text

Hi again people who follow me!

I’m bored and I’ve decided to make fun facts about our DID system and the four known alters!

So before I start- Lilith has a bit of a show today, but the body was too tired for her to start anything. Like I feel asleep as soon as I got to class. The reason I know this is because of my outfit and she decided to put on lip gloss (which I never wear personally). She’s not conscious currently, none of the other three are, and I’ll get to that later!

Oh! And just so you know, this is Lennox.

👋

Let’s start with Levin!

Levin is the alter that co-cons often or will switch with me

He knows a lot about our system, but is very secretive about it so~

He is the only male alter in the system that I know of

He also goes by Levi and Lev

He likes more soft songs and songs with a good message

His favorite color is forest green

He’s the only alter that Lilith does not take her anger out on

He’s an introvert with really bad social anxiety

He hates sexual songs (so of course being me, I put two of the worst sexual songs I know in his playlist, he doesn’t know)

He has insomnia and ptsd

He’s extremely competitive when it comes to card games

He likes educating people on animals and wants to do gigs, like birthday parties and events, to teach people about reptiles and birds specifically

His favorite subject is English

He is white with blue eyes and dark brown hair. He’s thin, well more twig like, but whatever. He’s around 5’8 (two inches taller than the body)

His clothes style is baggy shirts with either baggy sweatpants or leggings. He wear plain colors, like pale blues, grays, and black. He, surprisingly, likes boots, even heeled boots

His favorite anime is... probably Durarara x2 any season

He has no sexual desires, but romantic likes girls

He’s 18

He’s very comfortable singing, he loves it. That a major way he expresses himself

His favorite song is... I think LA Devotee by P!ATD (idk why but that what he likes)

^^ What he likes to wear ^^

Next on our list is

The demon queen herself, LILITH

She is named after Adam’s first wife, the demon queen, Lilith (yes she liked to go church, but we stopped going)

She is a bisexual

She’s ageless (she has no age, or if she does she hasn’t told anyone)

She’s an absolute bitch and she knows it.

She has violent mood swings and anger issues (respectfully so)

She is also an introvert, but not because of anxiety, no it’s because she wants to strangle every single person that looks at her weird

She hates Little with the burning passion

She gets repressed the most because no one wants to be expelled from school

She likes cooking

She hates cleaning because of her ocd

She wants to pursue a culinary job

Her favorite subject is science

She rarely fronts and when she does it’s quick or someone is co-con with her (ex. What happened with aleia-clownery)

Lennox(me) has to clean up her messes as always.

Her favorite anime is... The Promised Neverland (she likes Ray a lot)

She likes aggressive songs, or songs that swear a lot

Lilith has wavy black hair with blue highlights. Her eyes are a brownish red color. She’s short, like 5’2, and likes to wear heels because of it. She’s black as well

Her favorite color is dark royal blue

Her style of clothes is black shirts with skulls on them and tight, but comfortable, pants. She also likes a certain denim dress I have

She likes drawing and doodling ways to kill people and I have to say she’s pretty good

Her favorite song is Sarcasm by Get Scared (very fitting for her)

^^ What she wishes she can wear ^^

Next is Little!

She likes to bake

She enjoys going to restaurants, specifically Asian style ones

She’s loves animals and wants to work with them so bad.

She’s an extrovert with ADHD

Little is Hispanic and on the chunky side. She has a caramel skin tone. She can understand it way better than me (Lennox) and she wants to learn Japanese and French (I’m interested in Japanese so we’re probably going to learn it)

Her favorite subject was College Writing Prep and before that was Language Arts, but the writing part of it. She really likes writing

Her favorite color is... honestly black. She likes that it matches with everything and likes the science of black too

Her favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club (I hate it with the burning passion) her second choice is Black Butler (any season) which we allow her to watch

She likes baking and cooking, tho she prefers baking, she likes the way it calms her, I guess

Her favorite song is Voices in My Head (she listens to a lot of nightcore so I don’t the artist)

I’m not saying much else about her (I don’t want creeps harassing her)

^^ What she prefers to wear ^^

Last, and certainly least, Lennox (aka me!)-

My favorite anime is Kakegurui or... BNA... or BNHA... or Hitorjime My Hero (My Very Own Hero)... or maybe Given? Idk I like a lot of anime...

The first anime I’ve ever watched was Wolf’s Rain. I was seven I think, but it was on YouTube so I didn’t get to watch the whole thing. I recently found it, but I’m afraid to watch it lmao

I like the colors teal and turquoise, as well as blood red and jet black

I like anything P!ATD, Halsey, Imagine Dragons, Fall Out Boys, Set It Off, Alec Benjamin, OneRepublic, and Nico Collins and AJR(granted so does everyone else but 🤷)

My favorite songs are Control by Halsey and Lonely Dance by Set It Off and Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time by P!ATD and River by Ed Sheeran and Eminem and Not Afraid by Eminem and I’m Ready by AJR and Karma by AJR... I can go on for hours, but I’mma stop here

I’m Non-binary and the only gender nonconforming alter. I’m also pansexual

I hate being touched, I hate talking to people that act ignorant, and I hate this body I’m in

I look like the body so no description for you 😝

I have anxiety and depression. Everything else I’ve been diagnosed with can really be related to DID

I’m a neutral party in everything, so when I say I don’t know, I don’t care, whatever, or not my business, I’m literally saying I have no standing or opinion in this

I like cooking, baking, organizing (not cleaning), writing, reading, doodling, and doing self introduced projects for fun

I like plaid clothing, hoodies, and pride shirts. I like sweatpants and sneakers. I also like things on my neck... it keeps me ground I guess

(Oh my god I’m writing this with Ella, right? I told her to stop clawing at the furniture, right? All of a sudden her focus is on the ground and I wiggles my toes, testing if she was looking at my feet, and I started moving them around. I told her, ‘stop looking at my feet.’ This cat, this puta, liked me in the eyes before looking back down and got in position to lunge at my feet. My heart stopped and I pulled my feet onto the couch. And she was going to do it because the moment I moved my feet, she jumped from the top of the couch she’s on... she scares me sometimes 😣)

^^ What I would wear if Lev was a little shit and let me wear pride stuff and jewelry ^^

Now-

Onto how our system works!

Levin and I co-con often. If I’m not in control, then he is

On instances where I get angry, Lilith takes control

Little co-cons with me more than everyone else because she enjoys annoying me

Lilith and Little are both so stubborn and hardheaded, it’s unbelievable. On the other hand, Levs and I are open minded and calm. So we often clash on what we should do as a collective

Lilith is a Christian, Levi and I are atheists, and Little is a Seventh Day Adventist (the religion I grew up with). However Lev and I hold more say, so we don’t go to church

I guess you could say there’s a hierarchy in the system. I have the most important say, then Lev, then Little, and lastly Lilith

Levin and I enjoy co-conning with each other only, anyone else gives us headaches

Everyone loves Nico Collins, Alec Benjamin, Set It Off, and AJR the most

Everyone’s favorite albums are Death of a Bachelor (p!atd), Cinematics (set it off), and American Beauty/American Psycho (fall out boys)

Everyone loves sushi and sushi rolls (California and Philadelphia rolls are the best)

We all really want to try takoyaki and pork Katsudon. When we do try them, I’ll probably make a post about it

We all love Ella and we all want to start a rehabilitation center of all animals and a pet cafe

We love reptiles, like all reptiles, venomous snakes included

I think there are more alters that just aren’t as prominent as the other three, Levin would know but he doesn’t like to discuss our system often

We really want to buy these specific no pierce cuff earrings

Edit: this total slipped my mind- when I’m on my red week (you know what I’m talking about) the others let me deal with it on my own, especially Little and Lev (Lev hates that week and recedes completely)

That’s all I’m willing to share about us (or that I remember)

My part was short because you guys talk to me all the time

Sincerely,

Lennox... with a sprinkle of Levin

I’m tagging some people because why not-

@one-pissed-off-child @liveto-100 @madame-ree @martinidrinkingmartin @anon-nom-nom95 @queenzie-xo @scalybunnypapi69 @gogetyoselfsomesoup (still bitter) @cristinaweeb @aleiakit @aleia-clownery (I’m still so sorry about what happened) @studiesboie @bloomyboithatemoji @pumpkineiji @penelopebakugouburrito1

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good--bye--binary · 5 years

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How Splatoon 2 Helped Me Understand My Queer-ness

With Splatoon 2 ending its schedule of updates with the final Splatfest (aka the Splatpocalypse) this weekend, I took some time to reflect on one of the things that makes this game so important to me, and perhaps some others like me.

Splatoon 2 will undoubtedly remain on my most important personal video game list for many years—possibly forever. My partner bought me a Switch for Christmas in 2017 and with it Mario Odyssey. Of course the first main-line Mario game would be the first game I would play on my new Nintendo console, and while Splatoon 2 probably wasn't even the second game I played on it (I would guess it was fourth or fifth?), in my mind it eclipses every other memory I have about my first few months with the Switch. It feels like my first Switch game, even though I know it wasn't.

While I enjoyed the Wii in its hay-day, I have a pretty small catalog of games for it, and like a lot of folks, I never bought—nor did I have any interest in—a WiiU. However, anticipating that the Switch would reignite my love for gaming (which it most definitely did), I signed up for the by-mail video game rental service GameFly. I knew I wanted to try a lot of Switch games, but I didn't want to shell out $60 too early in the system's life. That's how I first tried Splatoon 2.

I was a bit uncertain when I added it to my GameFly wish list, but again, I was hungry for any content the Switch was offering in its first year. I really don't like shooters and online multiplayer features are usually a second-thought to me. However, the art style and whimsical tone lured me in for a try. After getting my feet wet in the first couple of hours, I was hooked...puns definitely intended.

I had also just seriously begun grappling with my gender identity beginning in October/November of 2016, and by the end of 2017, I was well into my transition as a non-binary, transfeminine person. I should note that those are the terms I use to define my gender identity now in 2019. From the end of 2016 through a lot of 2017, I was actively repressing using the word “transgender” to describe myself; not that I harbored any type of transphobia, but rather that the idea of being anything but cisgender seemed like something I would never be able to “pull off..” I didn't hate the idea of being trans non-binary, I just didn't believe that I was “good enough” to call myself trans. There was a lot of soul-searching going on at that time as I experimented with pronouns, names, my wardrobe, and use of make-up that brought me to a much happier, more authentic place with my gender identity, but I would be remiss to not also acknowledge my obsession with Splatoon 2 at the same time.

Starting up the game for the first time, I was prompted to create my Inkling avatar character. Like always (as in even before I began my gender-identity journey), I chose a female character model, assuming that I would like the available costume and hair options more than a male character. Wanting her to look slightly queer, I chose the Inkling equivalent of the shaved-on-one-side, long-flowing-on-the-other haircut that is commonly associated with trans women and non-binary transfem people (including myself now). “She's so cute,” I thought, seeing in her a highly-stylized ideal of how I wished I looked; feminine, but with a slightly butch edge. “Futch” as many in the LGBTQ+ community call it.

As I played and absorbed myself into Splatoon 2s lore and aesthetic, Inkopolis, the epicenter of Inkling culture and life in the Splatoon franchise, quickly came to represent a type of gender-inclusive utopia to me. As I logged on religiously multiple times a day every day to see what new clothes and accessories I could buy to customize my Inkling doppelganger as well as taking note of how the other players were dressing both their male and female characters, I noticed that the game didn't make a distinction between “girls clothes” and “boys clothes.” All the same shirts, shoes, hats, glasses, everything was available to everyone.

And yet, I didn't feel like the Inklings were genderless. When you start Splatoon 2, your character begins in a basic t-shirt, a decidedly unisex, non-gendered article of clothing even in the human world. However, as my Inkling's wardrobe expanded, I found her just as cute (and found myself just as envious) in a ska band appropriate white dress-shirt and skinny black tie, a polka dot button up, and a New Wave French cinema-esque white shirt with thin horizontal black stripes. She could wear clunky black combat boots ala Daria Morgandorfer, brown penny-loafers, and neon green Chuck Taylor-inspired hi-top sneakers. However, I never felt like any of these or the literally hundreds of other clothing and accessory options in her virtual wardrobe invalidated her gender. There were some items I liked more than others, of course, but she was always that cute, spunky, confident futch girl that I had longed to be for years.

There's a common misconception, particularly among cishet people, that transfolk want to do away with gender entirely, that we imagine a gender-neutral world were there are no men or women, but of course that isn't true. What we DO want is a world were the gender-binary, where everyone is either 100% a man or 100% a woman, isn't the expectation. To me, that's one of the things that the world of Splatoon 2 represents. It isn't a gender-absent world, it's a gender-inclusive world.

It may sound silly, but dressing up my Inkling and seeing her in this world played a huge part in helping me overcome the expectation (and admittedly some internalized trans misogyny) that if I didn't want to look like/be a cis man, I had to “look like a cis woman.” I put that phrase in quotes because of course it's a very loaded phrase that suggests all cis women have to adhere to a strict gender-binary and wear dresses and makeup 24/7 to be considered women, hence the misogyny. Just like my funky little head-canon queer Inkling avatar, I feel more comfortable knowing that I can wear whatever I want, even “mens” clothes, without being a man.

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moranice-solvej · 4 years

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Aesthetic Game

@incognitajones, thanks for tagging. I didn’t realize how much I needed to spend some time combing through the pictures and just simply relax. :) In all honesty, I kind of cheated and decided to comb through an old and extensive folder of images I had saved up on my hard drive and try to best express something about me on this moodboard. And then I went down the rabbit hole of sharing why I chose those images under the cut, which isn’t a part of the game, but it’s something I wanted to do anyway. :)

Original rules are as follows:

Look up (your name) + core + aesthetic on Pinterest

Pick 9 images and arrange them into your own name moodboard

Tag others you wanna see!

Tagging @mitdemadlerimherzen cause yeah, sometimes we all need an excuse to look through pretty pictures.

Plaid shirts are my problem. I think I own 6 different ones now cause I tend to buy new ones every two years and don’t get rid of old ones if they’re still presentable. If weather allows and mood strikes, I can go through an entire work week wearing my favorite pair of shorts or jeans and simply change plaid shirts. I have a soft spot for architecture, especially old one, and the best kind of vacation for me is to travel to some old city and stare at wonders created a long, long time ago. Casual leather boots are my love. I own three different pairs that I wear interchangeably in different cool weathers. Heels are not my jam at all. I have a pair of nice summer high-heeled shoes that I for some reason fell in love from first sight with about seven years ago, and I still haven’t wore them once. When it’s warm I almost always wear sneakers, even with summer dresses, cause hey - they’re nice, they’re comfortable, and I don’t end up with blisters on my feet that literally any pair of sandals gifts me with for the last couple of years. I never leave the house without my set of six silver rings, unless it’s for a beach during vacations. I always had a soft spot for rings and silver rings in particular, so when I was fifteen my mom took me to a jewelry shop (like her mom did when she was a teenager too) and I was allowed to select quite a few. They’re all a cheap, simple kind, cause I like silver and not shiny precious stones. I wear four of them on my left hand (two rings are designed to be worn together on a single finger as they’re complimentary to each other) and two on my right. I love them so much and am so attached to them that I’ve never thought putting them aside and buying newer ones. One of my brightest childhood memories is my grandma taking me to the factory where she was once a lead economist at and having a chance to spend a few hours with an old typewriter that apparently was still in use there. (For reference, that was probably 1997 or 1998 in a post-Soviet country.) I still remember the sound it made when typed something, the feeling of the button beneath my fingertips, and that ink stamped to a yellowish paper. Little did I know then at four of five years old that one of my favorite things to do in life would be to write. And, yeah, I still wish I had a typewriter at home for purely aesthetical purposes. I don’t paint my nails for the last year or so as much as I did in the decade before that (and when I do I usually go for a transparent polish, not a colorful one), but I still own a crazy amount of nail polishes in different shades of blue. And I’m a big tea person, so it’s easier to see me either holding or having a mug of tea close to me than see me without it in close proximity. I’ll wear a leather jacket pretty much anywhere if weather allows it. I own two now - one I wore for seven years now which you can totally tell, but I still love the way it looks and you can’t pry it out of my hands, and a newer one that I mostly wear these days. If I’ll ever get married, at this point I’m sure I’m signing the marriage certificate while wearing a leather jacket because that is who I am, all pretty wedding dresses be damned. I grew up in a house full of books, there was a small library located in the first floor of my apartment building where I’ve spent a lot of time in the summer, allowed to run free and read pretty much whatever I wanted cause my grandma was friends with both lady librarians who worked there, and it shows. That photo is pretty much the mood of how my bedroom would look like if I was allowed complete freedom of choosing and furnishing the apartment. My dream relationship goal is to have someone with whom I could just spend a ridiculous amount of time casually walking through a city like that and talk for hours.

#aesthetic game #moodboard #about me

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takeyourcritique · 5 years

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Makoto Niijima: Good Girl, Bad Writing.

In video games, movies, TV, and books, there are always characters who receive copious amounts of praise. In Persona 5, it is no different. Some characters deserve the hype they get, and some.. do not. In my humble opinion, Makoto Niijima falls into the latter category and in this essay I will explain why, as well as delve into what I as a writer would do to improve her character. Because this is not a hate meta, it is merely me articulating my issues with her character and getting my thoughts in order. (She has potential, it merely needs to be utilized and with P5R coming next year, a girl can hope.)

1. Underwhelming Design

The cast of Persona 5, in contrast to the casts before them, are vigilantes, a band of misfits if you will. The entire theme of the game is rebellion against society and fighting the norm, and the characters should reflect this in their design. The only exception is the protagonist himself because he's on probation and attempting to keep a low profile: that's why he follows the dress code to a tee and appears as gentle as possible, because he's already in enough trouble as is. The first party member, Ryuji, has been a rebel for a good amount of time: his hair is a stark blond (which Kawakami-sensei does not approve of) and he wears a very casual version of the school uniform; substituting a bright yellow shirt for the white of the uniform, wearing sneakers instead of dress shoes, and not wearing his suspenders (they're attached though, at the waist).

Ann Takamaki wears a white clover hoodie under her blazer, red leggings under her skirt, brown lace up boots, and earrings; not to mention her hair, while a natural blonde, is pulled back into cutesy pigtails almost like a teenage Harley Quinn. Yusuke doesn't even go to the same school, so his attire stands out in stark contrast with the main trio. Futaba dyes her hair red and she doesn't go to school at all due to severe anxiety; Haru wears a poofy pink sweater over her uniform with Mary Janes and polka dot tights. They all stick out like little sore thumbs. Except Makoto. She basically also follows the dress code, with a few subtle changes:

•She doesn't wear a blazer, instead wearing a black halter vest over her turtleneck

•Black tights

•Brown boots

That's literally it. Nothing about her stands out, and even in her casual clothing she wears a lot of whites and blacks. There's a monochromatic vibe to her, perhaps alluding to her strong sense of justice and distinction between right and wrong which in and of itself isn't bad! But it doesn't fit with the theme of the cast, Makoto fits in too much with the rest of the world to fit in with them. Just by looking at her, you cannot tell she's supposed to be part of the crew and in all honesty she'd fit better working with Akechi due to their very similar views of justice and morals. Hell, some NPCs are more vibrant design-wise than Makoto is.

2. Her Metaverse design, Persona and codename are contradictory.

Makoto's Persona, Johanna, is based most likely off Pope Joan, (after doing research online and reading Johanna's profile on SMT wiki it seemed the best fit) who was a woman that pretended to be a man in order to rise to power in an otherwise male-only role in the Catholic church. And while the story is intriguing, it doesn't fit Makoto at all: she never pretended to be what she was not and while she's "the voice of reason" she's not the leader of the team; Joker is. This makes her codename, "Queen", even more confusing. Nothing about her costume design looks regal whatsoever; it makes no sense. It feels like writer's favoritism, in all honesty. A better name would've been something more related to the fact that she looks like a biker/executionist hybrid; like "Crusher" or something of more..violent nature.

Even a name related to her wanting to go into the force would've worked well: Chief, Lieutenant, etc. Queen is nice, but it doesn't click with Makoto at all, unlike literally everyone else's Persona and codename. Ann's Persona, Carmen, is a femme fatale that kills men. Captain Kidd is a pirate, an iconic symbol of rebellion; Milady, Haru's Persona, is a reference to a villainess of the same name in the 3 Musketeers; Goemon was essentially a Japanese Robin Hood which fits Yusuke's entire kitsune/warrior aesthetic. Joker's Persona, Arsene, is a direct nod to Arsene Lupin; who was one of Sherlock's rivals and a gentleman thief who left calling cards to the people he robbed and a direct parallel to Akechi.

3. Her introduction as a whole, and to the team, is abysmal.

When Makoto is first introduced to the player, the entire school is in turmoil over Kamoshida's abusive actions towards the volleyball and track team. Many people don't know the truth about what's going on, and others simply turn a blind eye because as an Olympic medalist, the gym coach brings in a lot of popularity for the school. Being the student council president, Makoto has power that many other students do not have; so one would assume that upon learning that a victim was in danger she would spring into action, no?

Wrong.

When Ann confronts Makoto about her inaction, she turns the question back on the blonde, asking "What have YOU done for Shiho?" as if it's Ann's fault that Shiho had been jeopardized (which it was not, Ann allowed herself to be blackmailed by Kamoshida in order, so she thought, to protect her best and at the time, only friend). And she doesn't do anything about the situation, claiming that "It has nothing to do with me." (This is how abuse victims DIE.) Even worse, her elder sister is a prosecutor, she could've easily gone to Sae and asked her to look into the matter. Goro Akechi later calls her out on this, as he should; telling her that she is a "good-girl pushover". And when Kamoshida is punished for his crimes, Ann, who was bullied and outcast, goes to Makoto and apologizes to HER to make amends, as if she were wrong. Makoto then replies "We both made mistakes" in a sorry apology (she doesn't even say "I'm sorry" iirc), and asks if she can call Ann by her first name and without honorifics, which in Japan is a symbol of close friendship. (Edit: this apology actually takes place after Kaneshiro's arc, not Kamoshida's, I misremembered.)

You see, calling someone by their given name, even if you are the same age, has a ton of meaning in the culture. Just a year difference between two people can separate them as senpai and kouhai, and while the senpai can call their kouhai by their first name without raising any eyebrows it's not the same for the younger person. Calling someone by their given name in Japan is a privilege, not a right; it represents trust, respect, everything that Makoto and Ann did NOT have.

Now, let me get this straight.

Makoto did nothing when everybody called Ann Kamoshida's hoe, allowed her, Shiho, Akira, Ryuji and Mishima plus many others to suffer abuse (and Shiho attempted suicide!), gave a laughable apology, victim-blamed Ann; and now she wants to be buddy-buddy? What, in any reality, about that is okay? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But of course, because the writers want us to love Makoto, they have Ann forgive her and let her call her by her first name. And after all that, Makoto is still president, despite her clear nonchalance to the matter. She also does nothing to help the Kamoshida victims after his crimes come to light, when there was literally no excuse anymore not to assist them and help them get back on their feet. Even if she felt powerless with Kamoshida around, that doesn't explain her inaction after he's gone.

Flash forward two Palaces later, when she joins the team. Makoto stalks the protagonist around to gather evidence that he is a Phantom Thief, and then blackmails her way into the ranks. The team of course, is not happy about this at all. Makoto gives them the target; Junya Kaneshiro, who's basically forcing people into debt. The problem here is she has literally no personal ties to him; unlike the main trio all having connections to Kamoshida and Yusuke being Madarame's essential foster son. Tired of Sae calling her useless, Makoto jumps in front of the mob boss's car in desperation (and Ryuji gets her out of the way JUST in time, but he very easily could've died) which puts the entire team in danger and later on is literally pinned down by the mob and the crew have to go and save her because she was so determined to take this dude down she walked into the lion's den without any form of a plan. (He was also going to sell her into prostution to pay off the debt he'd given the Thieves.)

Her Awakening is also really weak: the speech from Johanna is extremely short and then Makoto stomps the ground to avoid falling over, rips off her mask with a bunch of overdramatic screaming (iirc we don't even get to see blood) and whoop-di-doo, she's got a motorcycle! And suddenly, despite all she's done, everybody loves her and thinks she's a total badass when she literally just threw an adult-sized tantrum. The motorcycle itself is also very lazy, it's just a motorcycle with a face. That's it. That's Makoto's Persona. A motorcycle. With. A. Face.

And from then on, everybody's suddenly a-ok and buddy-buddy with Makoto. It's ridiculous and just makes her come off as a Mary Sue because if somebody endangered my life I sure as hell would not be rubbing shoulders with them and I'm quite sure most people feel the same way. And again, after all this, Makoto does not get in trouble or even harshly reprimanded by the school for her extremely reckless actions; when she should have, and had the power to, just call the police or Sae. And all the Thieves somehow are now her friends and she gets to become a superhero.

So let me see if I understand. This girl stalks these people, blackmails them and forces them to go after hardened criminals (she was going to snitch on them if they didn't comply to her demands), goes in guns blazing by HERSELF to attempt to take down the mob boss, has to be rescued..

And gets praised and dubbed a badass for this???

And before you accuse me of having bias against Makoto, let it be known I in no way, shape or form condone Yusuke stalking Ann or Futaba blackmailing the Thieves either. It's. Still. Wrong.

Also, if you unironically think Makoto's stalking is cute, you're wrong. Stalking is creepy, regardless if it's a girl or guy doing it; no one gets a pass.

In addition, Makoto couldn't be bothered to help out at school but then goes after a MOB BOSS and puts herself in unnecessary danger? What's up with that?? If she felt powerless against Kamoshida, why in the world would she take on the Yakuza?

4. Her backstory doesn't mesh well with the rest of the team.

The gang are all outcasts and misfits in one way or another, and their pasts are less than savory.

Protagonist: Falsely accused of assaulting a woman, expelled from school and sent to Tokyo on a year probation despite his innocence, victim of nasty rumors by other students at his new school; abused by his gym coach, no contact with parents.

Ryuji: Abusive, alcoholic father who beat him and llater left him and his mother, abused by his gym coach, leg broken by his gym coach and labeled as a delinquent because his coach lied and acted like Ryuji attacked him, thus alienating him from the track team and by extent; the entire school. Losing his track scholarship because he can't run anymore, ruining his academic career.

Ann: Two parent household but they're never home, leaving her with a caretaker. Faced bullying and isolation due to being biracial (she's a quarter American), only having one friend before joining the Phantom Thieves. Blackmailed by the gym coach and sexually harassed in order to keep this one friend on the volleyball team, labeled as a slut because no one took the time to find out the truth of the matter. Friend is later raped and attempts suicide, Ann attempts to get help from the student council president but is blamed herself for Shiho's predicament. Also judged just for her looks, which she despises.

Yusuke: Biological father died presumably before his birth, biological mother had a seizure and died due to his mentor's negligence. Said mentor then takes Yusuke, a very small child at this point in time, and raises him in isolation. Psychologically (and very likely emotionally) manipulated, Kitagawa grows up in an abusive household and when confronted with the truth, is unwilling to believe it is so (as many abusive victims realistically behave). Later learns the truth about his mother and his mentor's plagiarism and detaches himself from him, but is extremely socially awkward out of touch due to isolation and as a result is isolated at school because no one wants to talk to him.

Futaba: Was blamed for her mother's death (whom she lost at 13-14) and lived with an extremely abusive uncle who underfed her and didn't even let her bathe herself. Developed severe anxiety and became suicidally depressed for over a year, refusing to even come out of her room. Had a friend who was abused by her parents and upon finding out the two fell out and only reconciled years later through the Internet. Bullied in school for her intellect.

Haru: Lost her mother at a young age, engaged against her will to an emotionally abusive, selfish fiancé for the sake of her father's company. Has deep-rooted trust issues due to people being kind to her solely because of her status; or mean for the exact same reasons. Later on lost her father as well at the age of 17, leaving all the responsibility of the company to her as she was the sole heir.

Morgana: Has no memories of who, or what, he used to be and suffers existential crises; suffers from vivid nightmares. Puts up a façade of arrogance to hide insecurities.

Makoto: Mother died when younger, father died in the line of work, older sister forced to become caretaker and work her rear off to provide for the both of them. Pressured into perfection by Sae.

That's.. literally it. Yes, she has no friends at school, but that's by her choice; she isolates herself in her studies and as a result is socially awkward and doesn't know how to interact with people (which makes her even less suitable to be put into any type of leadership position so how she became student council president is beyond me.) Makoto's life is heaven compared to the other Thieves and most of her issues would go away once she gets to college: the rest of the team doesn't have that luxury. By the way, please don't think I'm saying she doesn't deserve to be on the team because she doesn't have as deep a sob story, I'm not saying that at all. It's just that her backstory isn't really utilized as well as it should be and often times conflict is used to try to get the player to feel sorry for her (i.e. Sae calling her useless)

5. Her Confidant is abysmal and cliché.

So Makoto's Confidant actually starts out not half bad! You take her out to play video games and help her come out of her shell initially. But then it shifts to Eiko, an old friend of hers, who is a bad relationship. And this is when the Confidant begins to suffer, because it's not even about Makoto anymore. The president tells Eiko about the danger she's in, and her old classmate does not listen; declaring that since the older girl does not have a boyfriend she couldn't possibly understand. This logic is very flawed; it's like telling a smoker to stop smoking and they tell you "You don't even smoke, you don't know how bad it is". Yet Makoto listens to Eiko and comes to you, the protagonist; and asks you to pretend to be her boyfriend in order to convince her friend that she DOES understand. But it's so awkward Eiko's boyfriend and the girl herself can tell you're not genuine. And you have to keep this up for the rest of the Confidant, not to mention MAX Charm is required from Rank 5 onward in this route. Why?

Because apparently you're not attractive enough otherwise. And it's not even for Makoto, it's for Eiko, to convince her that you're hot enough to compare to her boyfriend; Takase. (Geez, shallow and childish much?) And then at the end of the Confidant, the romance angle comes off as very odd because you're literally treated like an afterthought the entire time and then suddenly Makoto turns around and wants you as her actual boyfriend?? Uh..where was her falling for you during the time spent together? It just feels like it comes outta nowhere, not to mention she wants to be a cop which the law literally ruined Joker's life soooo why is he getting into a romantic relationship with someone who wants to be associated with a source of his trauma? That's like a metaphorical slap in his face.

"Hey, I know you were literally beaten and drugged up, manhandled, falsely accused and put into solitary confinement by the law enforcement, causing you to suffer severe anxiety and you to possibly be scarred forever but I wanna be a cop even though I don't think straight in stressful situations and act on impulse and don't take insults or criticism well; and I want you to stay by my side even though I blackmailed you, stalked you, and endangered your life and did nothing while you were being abused by your gym coach."

(Let's not forget she also didn't say anything about Sae having a Palace until it was almost too late and Joker almost lost Futaba as a result.)

For Valentine's Day she declares "I've been waiting for you for so long" and that genuinely bewildered me because you don't really see her pining at all during her Confidant, nor during other events (the closest thing you get is her clinging to you in Sojiro's house but that's honestly not even romantic that's just her getting frightened and needing assurance in a very unnecessary "ship tease" moment). Same with the scene in Futaba's Palace, while Joker saving Queen was very sweet, he literally would've done that for anybody of his teammates. Makoto is not special in that regard.

6. How to better this character

•Introduce her to the Thieves in a better, more plot driven way, or remove her from the team completely.

Kaneshiro's arc should honestly just be scrapped, it was a sorry attempt to get Makoto on the team. A better time for her to join would be Sae's Palace since she actually has emotional ties to the Palace owner and by this time in the game could've developed to be a better person from the Kamoshida arc, wanting to make things right. This could also be a good start for her and Ann to begin to be on better terms- not even necessarily friends (because after what happened I honestly don't think Ann would want to be friends, at least not close), but learning to at least be civil. That, or she joins out of desperation because she doesn't want anything bad to happen to Sae and as the infiltration continues gets more and more nervous and ultimately rats their plan out (because Makoto as the traitor would be much better, writing-wise).

Alternatively, Hifumi joining instead of Makoto would also be very refreshing with Makoto covering up for them at school and supporting them on the sly.

•Treat her flaws as actual flaws, she's not perfect.

Makoto does have some bad traits, a few being:

•bad tempered

•reckless

•stubborn

•nosy

•hypocritical

•bossy

•socially awkward

But these are almost never treated in a negative light. With the Kamoshida arc and Kaneshiro arc, all is simply forgiven, same with her smacking Eiko across the face in a moment of anger. Even when wrong, Makoto is never wrong per say and this makes it difficult for her to be believable as a character. To fix this, having her suffer the consequences of her actions will make it more realistic. For example, getting Eiko to break up with her boyfriend but cutting ties with her too as a result would give Makoto the rude awakening that you can do the right thing the wrong way and people will not always forgive you for the mess you put them through (nor should they).

Her being punished for unnecessarily putting herself in danger with Kaneshiro would also be understandable (she should've been at least suspended, she could've gotten herself killed, plus all the then existing Phantom Thieves); as well as actually apologizing for the hell that was Kamoshida's drama. And not just to Ann, but everyone who suffered. That would show maturity and a willingness to change, and put her in a better light.

I want Makoto to get mad and she's fully in the wrong and she acknowledges she's wrong, have her recklessness get her or a teammate wounded in battle, etc. And have the others call her out when she's wrong and refuse to let it slide. Have them talk it out, grow as a team. Just..make Makoto fallible, flawed, broken even. She's an orphan, I want to touch more on her having to grow up quickly, feeling lonely and unsure of how to connect with people; talk about how her father is a driving force in her values and morals and how she wishes to honor him by following in his footsteps.

Delve into how she feels less than worthy if she does not achieve excellence but do it in a way that does not demonize Sae unnecessarily and try to make the reader/player feel sorry for her. Have Makoto spend more time with people in her team outside of team duties and while being awkward, genuinely interested and actively working to better her relationships. (She barely interacts with anyone besides Joker, Futaba, and on occasion, Haru) When Makoto is realistically flawed, she then becomes relatable and much more likable.

I want her fears to be plot relevant, not just slapped on for the sake of making her look "cute". Her being scared of the dark was never relevant, unlike Rei from Persona Q who was scared of the dark and had to go through a pitch black room in order to find key cards to help her friends escape a locked room or Yukari being terrified of death and having to come to terms with that. Same with her fixation for Buchimaru, it's cute but it doesn't add any depth to her character whatsoever or even her apparently knowing aikido? We never see Makoto fight outside the Metaverse unlike Chie or Akihiko so it feels like a character trait just slapped on to make her 'cooler'. It feels lazy, because it is. It's like the writers wanted her to be this strong, independent young woman but at the same time a scared, awkward little girl and the two ideas often clash; coming off as contradictory as if they couldn't make their minds up as to who they wanted Makoto to be.

Again, this is not an attack on Makoto fans. If you like her, that's valid and I respect that. I'm merely explaining why I don't and how I feel the writing failed her character and what I believe she'd be if her potential was maximized.

That's all, have a good day.

#meta #critique #persona 5

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canaryatlaw · 2 years

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okay, well today was a pretty good birthday, though I do feel quite old now lol. I woke up at 11:15 and we got ready, then headed out. had to pick up a package at the ups store they'd been holding that we were hoping was a canvas print of our favorite GP999 contestant (very long story as to how that came to be) and it was, so I was happy about that. we then made a quick stop at mcdonalds because I wanted an oreo mcflurry (because birthday) then began our journey to the suburb that has the "high tech" mini-golf place that we tried to go to in like, january, but they were booked. It's all indoors and the balls have like trackers in them that keep track of how many strokes it takes you to get the ball in the hole lol. we arrived there a little earlier than our reservation, so we walked around the barnes and noble for a little bit before heading over. we got registered and everything and then started. it was pretty crowded, so it was a bit of standing around and waiting for the people ahead of us to finish, but it was overall pretty fun, even though I am rather objectively not the best at golf lol it was still enjoyable. roommate ended up beating me, which I fully expected being that she has like a whole golf centered family and like played varsity golf, her brother plays college golf, and her parents literally live at a golf course...there was one great moment though when she managed to hit the ball completely out of the setup for that hole, which was pretty hilarious. when we finished we got some food because they had a whole dining section. we ended up getting some poutine that came with bacon, which we asked for it without since roommate keeps kosher, but they first brought it out to us with bacon anyway, so we had to send that back and they then gave us a free dessert as a result haha so that was nice of them, the poutine was enjoyable and then we got some beignets for dessert. we were initially going to go to the cheesecake factory later on in the day, but we were pretty full at that point, so we decided to table that until tomorrow. we walked around the outdoor for a while, despite it being rather cold out lol. from there we found a party city because I wanted a funny gift for the white elephant we're doing at our make up small group christmas party this week. I ended up with a child's chewbacca mask that's all kinds of hilarious, so I'm pretty satisfied with that. from there we found a target nearby because roommate needed coffee and I needed boots because the ones I was wearing were rapidly deteriorating (the heels were broken on both of them) and hurting my feet, so I was able to find a pair on clearance that'll work fine for the next few weeks until it's warm enough out to just wear sneakers and flats for work. the target was next to an indoor mall set up, so we wandered around there for a bit and got some bubble tea before heading home. I had my gift from my mom waiting for me when we got back, which was a cool book about mister rogers that had a bunch of info and pictures about the show, so that was cool. we had a pretty normal night from there, kpop videos and such while I did my thing. Roommate went to bed, and a bit afterwards I showered and got ready for bed, and now I'm here and quite tired, and I need to get up in the morning for church/babies, so I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight friends. Love you lots.

#daily journal #March 2022

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nyxwordsmith · 7 years

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Chemically Imbalanced: Chapter 02: Virgil’s Golden Boy

I had a spark of inspiration at work last night, and I just had to write this one out this morning.

Summary: Roman’s first mistake was taking Mr. Sanders History class, expecting an easy ride. His second mistake? Hitting on his son.

Word Count: 1,963

Fandom/Genre: Sanders Sides-Human/School AU - fLUFFYY

Warnings: None that I can think of, but let me know if there are any!

You can also read on AO3

Previous | Masterpost | Next |

Virgil sighed as he stood outside of the school, hunching into his hoodie with his hands firmly thrust into the pockets. He bit his lip, rocking from his heels to his toes, fidgeting frantically with the small cube in his pocket.

Why had he agreed to this? He didn’t know the layout of this school. He didn’t know where his Pa would be. What if he was in the middle of a class? They’d stare at him and-

Virgil felt that tell tale flutter in his chest, pulling his free hand out of his hoodie to press it against his sternum. He gently rubbed as he took a deep breath. Get it together, Virgil, you can do this.

The sooner you do this, the sooner you can go back home.

His first step forward was a lot easier than he’d expected. Still rubbing his sternum, he took the second, and third and found himself inside the foyer of the office.

The woman behind the desk eyed him suspiciously from behind a decade old computer, “Can I help you?” her sickeningly sweet voice barely held back the suspicion shining in her eyes.

Virgil slid over to the counter, letting the hand on his chest fall to the pocket on his jeans, “I’m, uh, looking for my Pa. Sanders?”

Her eyes brightened, sliding over him for a moment, “Oh! You’re-“

Virgil nodded, swallowing nervously as she flashed a bright smile at him. He couldn’t help that sick squirming in his stomach as she flicked her gaze down to the computer.

“Let me just see where he would be right about now…” her fingers danced over the old keyboard, clicking so loudly Virgil started clenching his jaw, “Ah! Yes, he’ll be finishing up his History Class in about five minutes.”

Virgil nodded, “Um, where is that?”

After some unnecessarily complicated directions, Virgil headed off into the halls of the unfamiliar school. His phone suddenly chimed in his pocket, and he deftly slid the device into his fingers, smiling when he saw a message.

[Dad]: Did you make it inside, kiddo?

Virgil unlocked the phone, quickly typing back his response as he walked blindly through the school.

[Virge]: Yeah, Dad. I’m heading to his class now.

[Dad]: I knew you could do it!

Virgil could already see his Dad’s proud smile as he snorted to himself.

He didn’t know what possessed him to look up. Or why he was even looking at his phone in the first place. But he was immensely grateful that he had looked up.

There still wasn’t enough time to brace against the force that walked headfirst into him though.

Virgil squeaked just before the contact, praying for a moment that they would hear him, leaping out of his way or…anything really.

Instead, he ended up lying on his back on the floor, staring up at a pair of grass green eyes.

They blinked, once, twice, three times before they widened, “I’m so sorry! Oh, my goodness,” the stranger was already clambering to get up, tanned cheeks tinted pink, “Are you okay?”

Virgil’s heart was pounding a mile a minute in his chest, though he wasn’t sure if it was the surprise or the closeness they’d just shared.

Before he realised, the stranger was on his feet, tall and imposing, offering his hand to him.

“Um, uh, yeah.” Virgil got his arms beneath him, “I think so.” Hesitantly, he took the strangers hand and felt like he was literally thrown onto his feet.

Damn this guy was strong.

He was a few inches taller than him, green eyes slowly sweeping over Virgil as they stood in the hallway. He was pretty tanned, which meant he was outdoorsy…something Virgil typically steered away from. His broad shoulders were tightly hugged by a white t-shirt that loosened as it fell down his chest, and Virgil had to swallow at what that meant.

Virgil rubbed his head to hide the fact they were both staring. The stranger’s deep brown hair was swept back into a ponytail, a few stray hairs falling over his forehead as he took an unconscious step back.

He was able to take more of him in then, the tall stranger wearing a pair of blue jeans, a satchel threatening to slip from his shoulder. The red leather screamed for attention, a rather intricate crest stitched onto the flap. Hadn’t he heard about that before?

“Sorry,” the stranger’s voice rumbled as he met Virgil’s eyes again suddenly, “I didn’t realise someone so gorgeous went here.”

Virgil swore his heart skipped a beat, and for a moment he thought it was his anxiety. And then the words sank in as a strange look of mortification fell onto the stranger’s face. He wasn’t sure of what to say, but Virgil’s mouth opened, hand falling limply to his side in surprise.

Wait. Wasn’t this…?

Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Can’t say you’re too shabby yourself.” Virgil tried weakly, wrapping his arm around his chest as he waited for the inevitable jerk of horror.

Instead, the stranger beamed back at him, almost out of relief, “Why, thank you!” The stranger adjusted his bag, “Roman Prince.” Virgil couldn’t help the smirk that pulled onto his face then. He knew it! “And you are?”

Oh man, Virgil couldn’t believe his luck. Roman Prince? The star actor, lover of Disney, and all-around brat? His Pa was going to love this.

“Prince? Really?” Virgil couldn’t help the urge to tease him, an idea flashing into his mind as he looked Roman up and down again. He seemed to tense, looking unsure as Virgil met his eyes, “Well, you certainly sound like one.” He tried to hide his smirk, lips twisting awkwardly as he did.

The way Roman’s eyebrow rose and confusion fell on his face was delicious, “I’m sorry, am I missing something here?”

Virgil had to supress a giggle, allowing a grin to spread on his face instead, unable to hold back the laughter. He covered his mouth quickly, surprised to find that Roman was wearing sneakers. He’d expected leather boots or something.

Oh man, his parents were going to love this. He wasn’t sure who would love it more though. Dad for a ‘chance encounter out of a fairy tale’ or Pa for ‘teasing the golden boy’.

Roman’s hands flexed nervously, rings flashing under the lights, and Virgil managed to contain his giggling. As he dropped his hand, his grin kept pulling back onto his face, despite his struggle to push it away, “Looks like you’re going to have your own fairy tale, Princey.”

Oh, that look of confusion and shock was too precious.

Virgil took the opportunity to slip around him, taking a few steps backwards as Roman abruptly turned toward him, eyes wide in surprise.

“Wait, what?” Virgil was already too far away for Roman to stop him, “What’s your name?!”

Virgil started jogging backward, “Cinderella!” he cried, turning around to sprint toward his Pa’s class.

There was silence behind him as he turned a corner, the grin pulling back onto his face as he tried desperately to suppress his giggles.

His Pa was right, he did look like a golden boy.

But that had been too easy.

Virgil took a half-step into the classroom, expecting heads to turn to his direction, but instead found the classroom empty, except for his Pa absently shuffling notes on his desk.

“Pa?” he called into the room.

His head snapped up in surprise, eyes wide before his expression softened, “Virgil.” His calm tone was a little warm as he rose from the desk. His eyebrows drew in a little, “Why are you here?”

Virgil stepped into the classroom, stepping down toward his father, “Dad wanted me to make sure you had lunch.”

‘Pa’ rolled his eyes with a small groan, “Even sick with the flu, that man is determined to look after me.”

Virgil snickered as he stopped in front of his father’s desk, “He tried to make lunch.”

His father nearly dropped the sheaf of paper’s in his hands, eyes wide, “Wha-“

“I stopped him. He’s in bed now.”

“How do we know that?”

“I made sure he took those meds that make him sleepy.” Virgil’s lips twisted into a smirk, “He was already drifting off when I left.”

His face softened again, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lip, but when they heard voices near the open door it fell away again.

Virgil knew the drill by now. Mr. Sanders. Mr. Robot. Students feared the man. Even Roman ‘Golden Child’ Prince.

As the voices faded, Virgil leant against his father’s desk with his hip, “You won’t believe who I literally ran into on my way here.”

His father’s blue eyes flashed with intrigue, “Oh?”

He’d finished gathering his things, sliding a satchel onto his shoulder, “Roman. Prince.”

His father froze, eyes carefully looking Virgil up and down, “Are you hurt? What did he say? Do I need to-“

“Pa,” Virgil chuckled, pushing off the desk, “I’m fine.” He relaxed a little, “Not sure he is though.”

“What did you-“

“I’ll tell you on the way to your office.”

Well, Virgil was right. Once the office door was closed behind them, the teacher’s hand flew to his mouth and tiny snickers escaped his father as he curled up a little against the door. Virgil grinned as he moved toward a comfy chair before his desk, flopping into it sideways.

A plaque on the desk shone menacingly at the door ‘Logan Sanders: History and Maths’

His father chuckled softly as he moved around the desk into his own seat, dropping the papers onto his desk and bag onto the floor. He fell into his chair, “You…oh my word.” He giggled, head in his hands, “Where did you get this wit from?”

Virgil chuckled himself, “You, obviously. Dad’s too nice.”

Logan lifted his head from his hands, “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, even as he grinned at his son.

“I’ve heard the story of how you met.” Virgil waved at him absently.

Logan sighed as he leant back in his chair, “Hm. I suppose you are right.”

Virgil grinned, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “Do you have another class?”

“No, I don’t. But I do have an appointment…“ Logan’s eyes widened, “With Roman.”

Virgil suddenly turned his head to his father, a grin spread wide onto his face, “Oh. Oh. This is…this is just too good, Pa.” Logan looked down at Virgil, a little hesitant, “Just picture it.” Virgil twisted himself to face his father, forearms on his thighs, “The look on his face. As he realizes.”

Logan frowned, “I don’t think-“

“Please.”

His look of concern melted away, “Fine. This time.”

Virgil nearly fist-pumped the air. This was going to be so good. He couldn’t wait.

They settled into quiet for a few moments, Logan sifting through essays and grimacing every so often. Virgil was lounging in the seat, one leg hooked over the arm, scrolling slowly through Tumblr.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten.” Virgil muttered suddenly, eyes never leaving the screen before him.

Logan stopped entirely however, giving Virgil his full attention, “Sorry?”

“Lunch.” Virgil glanced up at his father, “Now. Or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

A stern expression crossed Logan’s face for a moment, but Virgil knew he’d give in. Dad was caring, almost to the point of over-bearing, when he was well.

He was almost insufferable when he was sick.

Logan sighed, “Oh, very well.” He got up from his desk, dropping his pen into a little box where other pens and pencils were poking out, “But you stay here.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “And ruin the surprise?” he snickered, “Not a chance.”

Taglist: @onehundredphans @red-the-ruler @a-blog-just-for-sanders @eye-of-terrificl @xxfluffypandazxx @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @princeyandanxiety @alyssadashrub @fandoms-n-ship @meginoi @darastrix-thurirl @imasmallchild

@ireblogstuff-andineedalife @madd-catter @amazable01 @mydogsaresofuckingstupid @shygirl4991 @jade-dragon226-fan @greymane902@loonylovely @internallyexplodingrainbows @flyingturtlecat @flemishbitch @ imthemaya @anangelridingintheimpala @blaineryburn @xing-baby @sarcastic-florist @chaosgaminggirl @celiawhatsherlastname @livsig @monikastec @massivelyvaliantfox @novagalaxy4real @bubblycricket @vickyderpface @tree4life25 @zamoradraw @anduplex @moxiety--sanders101 @poisonlyra @fandomtrash1803 @flyingturtlecat @bookwormravenclaw @cosmic-chu @draftydrawzz @pattongirl @of-swords-and-princes @helloisthisusernametaken @chemically-imbalanced-romance @total-trash-emo@thepusheenqueen @justanotherpurplebutterfly @queer-ax @didsomeonesayyoutube122 @casmyth @mantha-has-fallen

#fanfic #tylers fics #chemically imabalanced #chapter 2 #virgils golden boy #sanders sides #thomas sanders #fluff #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #some logicality later #Dad!logan #Teacher!logan #damn this taglist gave me hell #i'm sorry this took so long

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merciattire-blog · 6 years

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12 Wardrobe Essentials You Shouldn’t Live Without

Let’s pause and take a second to look back and mentally picture the clothing items we had hanging in our closets ten years ago. Did you just cringe as much as I did? It’s likely that the most memorable items that came to mind were those short-lived trends that, if you are anything like me, you now choose to repress into your deepest, darkest memories. (If someone back then had just let me know that middle-school Paige was going overkill on the neon fad, the world would truly be a better place.) My point here is, you never know what the next hottest fashion trends will bring, nor what beloved pieces you have today will make you red in the face ten years down the road.

Nonetheless, there are some fashion staples that have stood the test of time and are here to stay. In today’s blog, I will elaborate on these basic, yet timeless pieces that every wardrobe should encompass to remain eternally stylish and chic.

1. White Tee

As a disclaimer, the listing of these wardrobe pieces has no rhyme or reason – except for this first item. This is the most important. You literally can never go wrong with a plain white tee (unless you’re a spiller). In my personal experience, I wear my simple white t-shirt about 80% of the time and I have absolutely no shame. To back up this fashion pick, let’s play a game. What goes well with some distressed jeans? A white tee. Some black high-waisted jeans? A white tee. Your favorite pair of shorts? A white tee. A pair of overalls? I think you see my point. Take my word that this is a timeless piece that should always hold a special place in one’s heart, or closet. Whatever.

2. Little Black Dress

No further explanation is really needed, right? It’s that one dress in your closet that all your other dresses wish they could be. One good-fitting LBD (little black dress) is your best friend when it comes to classy events without much notice. By simply switching out accessories, this piece can go from casual to elegant in seconds. To better ensure its versatility, aim for one with a modest length and high neckline.

3. Button-Up Shirt

As a business major, I would like to stress the importance that my white button-up serves in my closet. If you’re in need of a classy ensemble, there’s no going wrong with this piece. Throw this on tucked into some black pants or a pencil skirt and you’re good to go. Even if you’re going for an off-duty look, this classic top half-tucked into some high-rise jeans paired with some booties or heels is an effortless, yet totally chic look.

4. Jean Jacket

Ah, my trusty ol’ jean jacket. It truly holds a special place in my heart (and my closet). After becoming the hottest trend in the 80’s, it’s one that is sure to stick around for many years to come. Nothing spruces up an old t-shirt quite like a light-wash jean jacket, especially if you’re going for that 90’s grunge look. Even here in Wisconsin, where the weather is typically either 20 or 80 degrees, I find a way to sneak this classic in somewhere within the glimpses of spring. Pro tip: don’t make the same mistake I did; go for one that is a bit oversized so you can layer, layer, layer! Mine is a bit snug, but being a bit chilly sometimes is still 100% worth it.

5. Leather Jacket

The one piece of clothing that you can throw over any outfit and BAM! Instant badass. If you don’t own one yet, there’s plenty of styles to choose from. A faux leather moto jacket is the perfect starting point and you can find one pretty much anywhere. Coming from someone who looks for any reason to bring out my inner rebel (spoiler alert: it’s pretty much nonexistent), I guarantee you won’t regret it. Once you get a basic black one, you can even extend your collection by adding in some other colors. My closet consists of leather jackets in black, gray, white, brown, pink (for when I’m feeling more feminine vibes), and, my personal favorite, a floral embroidered one. Do I have an obsession? Probably. Am I ashamed of it? Not in the slightest.

6. Knit Sweater

Nothing says “cozy” quite like a big, soft sweater. As a college student that faces the true brutality of Wisconsin winters, chunky sweaters have been a lifesaving essential. This is probably the one item that I would vouch for as being most splurge-worthy. There are far too many itchy sweaters in the world that fall apart after two washes, so my advice to you is to seek out a comfortable, long lasting one. You deserve it. Now, say it with me: “I am better than itchy sweaters”.

7. Go-To Jeans

So, you had a plan to go over to meet a friend for lunch, but you overslept, you’re already running late and you have yet to get dressed... and do your hair… and makeup. We’ve all been there. There’s always the option to hit cancel on the hair and makeup; just bun it up and go for the au naturel makeup look that is so in. Alas, you probably still need to put on some clothes (I know what you’re thinking, but let’s just assume your just-slept-in yoga pants just won’t cut it this time). You don’t have the time to try on every pair of pants in your closet, not this time. So, what jeans are you thinking? If you have one specific pair in mind, your one true pantsmate, you are a lucky gal. If not, you owe it to yourself to go find that special pair. High-rise, low-rise, boot cut, skinny, whichever you fancy. Go find that pair that speaks to you. One you can always rely on, even around the holidays (i.e. stretchy fabric is your best friend). If you’re having trouble finding your pantsmate, here’s a helpful article on which jeans are best for your body type. Go on, get educated; become a jeanius.

8. Leggings

This is just a given, we all have ‘em. They’re truly amazing. Life-changing, even. Finding a sturdy, warm pair of black high-rise leggings will surely get you through any challenges life throws at you. Hence, why they make up half of the official finals week uniform, along with a greatly oversized sweatshirt that probably hasn’t been washed since syllabus week. On top of that, they serve an even greater purpose rather than wallowing in salty finals tears: working out. Who knew? I can’t be the only one who only works out 2% of the time when I wear these. Nonetheless, leggings are an essential for both everyday wear, or for the workout buffs (kudos to you, brave warriors). Also, I must add that leggings with pockets do exist and they are a total game-changer.

9. Pencil Skirt

The ultimate formal attire must-have. For any occasion where you just aren’t feeling a dress, a solid pencil skirt with a nice blouse or button-up is your best friend. This simple, timeless piece is one that will never not look classy and stylish. Plus, if you find a good quality one like I did, it may just last you for over 10 years. (I bet middle-school Paige didn’t see that coming.) My pencil skirt has gotten me through almost every single presentation in college thus far and I don’t plan on trading it in anytime soon.

10. Ankle Boots

Who doesn’t love a good pair of booties? They are the ultimate autumn fashion staple that you are guaranteed to fall in love with. I own two trusty pairs of booties: one in black faux leather, and the other in taupe suede. Both have been through countless lectures, business meetings, and crunched their way through the crisp fall leaves on the way there. They are the ultimate comfort shoes.

11. Black Pumps

Now, I’m going to assume here that no one likes walking in heels. We typically wear them to dress up an outfit, improve our posture, accentuate our legs, or to give us a little confidence boost. No matter what the reason, a pair of simple black pumps can really do it all. Whether you’re heading to a business meeting, happy hour, or a casual date night, they’re one accessory that won’t let you down (unless a heel breaks and in that case, they are quite literally letting you down). I suggest you invest in a pair that is somewhat comfortable. Believe it or not, there are some shoe makers aren’t out to kill your poor feet. Here are some top-rated heel brands based on their comfortability.

12. Basic Sneakers

If you were to see me any day during the week, odds are that I’d be wearing either my Slick Adidas or my Snappy Vans. That’s right, I even named them. Walking-friendly shoes are a necessity, especially for college students. I honestly have not realized the amount of walking I would face in my life until I entered college. However, with a nice pair of worn-in sneakers, the lack of car travel is no problem. I’d recommend either black or white; that way, they pair well with any outfit.

So, there you have it: the wardrobe pieces that have a lifetime membership to my closet. What is one timeless wardrobe piece you couldn’t live without?

#MKT400UWL

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santiagoswagger · 7 years

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"Jake was constantly telling her that he didn’t care what she looked like – he’d literally once said she could wear a shower curtain as a dress and still be beautiful – and Amy would rather stick pins in her eyes than change the way she dressed for a boyfriend. The one thing he couldn’t wrap his head around was her tiny, dismal shoe collection."

After an exhausting double shift at the precinct, Amy comes home to a surprise from Jake.

Inspired by a post from @juliadorable about Jake and Amy's matching shoes in the '99' promo pics!

It was no secret that Amy Santiago hated shopping, perhaps more than anything in the world. She always had, even as a child; being the only girl in a house full of boys meant that anything she wore would end up stained or torn almost immediately, so she tended to wear whatever was clean. As an adult, the idea of dropping wads of cash on trendy clothes she hardly had the time to wear just didn’t make sense to her. She had a fairly sizable collection of blouses and pantsuits for work, all compliant with the NYPD dress code, but her cache of personal clothing items was sparse, to put it lightly. She’d made the effort over the years to find a few pairs of jeans that fit well and had collected some fun, after-work blouses to wear on her days off. She even owned some nice date night dresses that made her feel confident and she was sure Jake appreciated, given the way his eyes went soft every time she put one on.

Her shoes, on the other hand, were a much sadder story.

There were her sensible, heeled boots for work, of course – comfortable enough to wear to chase a perp, black leather (so they went with everything) and fashionable enough that she didn’t feel too frumpy when she wore them around the precinct. Then there were a few pairs of flats and low heels that went well with casual and dressed-up outfits, plus her gym sneakers, which only saw the sun when she had time to spare for a morning run on the weekends.

Jake was constantly telling her that he didn’t care what she looked like – he’d literally once said she could wear a shower curtain as a dress and still be beautiful – and Amy would rather stick pins in her eyes than change the way she dressed for a boyfriend. The one thing he couldn’t wrap his head around was her tiny, dismal shoe collection. Jake never did anything small in life, always in search of a blaze of glory, a trait that certainly extended to his clothing arsenal. In addition to his ridiculous number of flannel shirts, and his three (yes, three) expensive leather jackets, Jake had a pretty serious shoe problem. If Amy had a dime for every time Jake came home from a day at the outlet mall carrying an overstuffed bag of sneakers, she’d be moving to a penthouse on Fifth Avenue any minute now.

Amy tried her hardest to be supportive of his obsession but she truly did not understand the difference between the Air Jordans he drooled over and the pink-striped Nikes she wore to exercise. His only response to her confusion was, “It’s a lifestyle, Ames! A lifestyle!” It didn’t really answer her question, but she loved seeing him so passionate about something, even if it was his dumb sneakers.

One Saturday, Jake had the day off and decided to make the day-trip to New Jersey and scour the outlet mall for good deals on new shoes. He’d recently scuffed his favorite pair of sleek, white sneakers and was devastated, so he was on the hunt for a replacement pair. Amy was stuck working a double shift at the precinct that weekend so he took Charles to Jersey as his co-pilot. Amy had groaned on her way out of the apartment that morning, cursing the powers that be for giving her a weekend double shift with Hitchcock, of all people, Jake’s sympathetic smile kissing her goodbye as she walked out the door. While Amy was elbow-deep in paperwork at the precinct and trying to block out the horrifying sounds Hitchcock made as he ate an entire pizza by himself, she texted her boyfriend to see how his day was going and ask him if he wanted her to pick up takeout on her way home that night. He didn’t respond right away, which was unlike him; the three chat dots usually appeared under her texts immediately after she sent them and were often followed by a string of random, unrelated emojis. She didn’t have time to overthink it, however, when she was assigned an urgent bodega B&E and she hurried to the crime scene a few blocks over to investigate.

When Amy finally returned to the precinct two hours later and had time to check her messages, she saw that he had responded (“Hey girlfriend, I’ve got dinner locked down. See you later tonight!”, accompanied by a winky face, six red hearts and the praying hands emoji). She smiled softly to herself at his proper punctuation and shook her head at his emojis, turning to the mountain of files on her desk. She had a robber to catch.

Amy left the precinct at seven-o-clock on the dot that evening. The double shift had really done a number on her and all she wanted to do was go home, put on her comfiest sweats and eat bad takeout with Jake. She turned her key in the lock and opened the door to their apartment, breathing a heavy sigh of relief the minute she passed the threshold. But as she walked further inside, she was startled to find her favorite Polish takeout spread out neatly on the dining room table, complete with her floral china and nice silverware. A bottle of red wine and two full glasses had been placed next to the styrofoam takeout boxes and she suspected it was the bottle of cabernet she’d been saving for a special occasion. She also spotted a large, red gift bag sitting on the chair Amy usually claimed as her own.

She was frozen in place, taking in the strange scene before her with a slightly slacked jaw, when Jake absentmindedly walked out of her kitchen carrying napkins. His eyes lit up when he saw that Amy was home and he swiftly crossed the room to peck her quickly on the lips, tossing the napkins unceremoniously on the table.

“Hey, babe. How was work?” He said it so nonchalantly, like he hadn’t put together most romantic tablescape in the history of their dining room.

Amy tilted her head to look at him. He was smiling and gazing at her intently in the way that always caught her off guard as he adjusted the napkins he had previously tossed aside, placing them gently next to each plate setting. She tucked her knotted hair behind both ears as she answered, “Fine, just busy. It looks like you’ve been busier, though.” She gestured to the table and smiled with her mouth closed, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

Jake’s ears turned slightly pink and he scratched the back of his neck. “I just- I thought you could use a pick-me-up after today. You hate Saturday shifts.” He brought his arm back down to his side and shrugged.

Amy’s heart swelled. It wasn’t the first time in their relationship that Jake had been this thoughtful and romantic, not by a long shot, but it never failed to catch her by surprise. He constantly went out of his way to show her he cared and it meant more to her than any “I love you”.

She crossed the room in three strides of her sensible boots and kissed him, taking his face in both of her hands. His hands came up from his sides to cradle her back and pull her body tightly into his. A minute later, they pulled apart and smiled at each other before her growling stomach interrupted their quiet moment.

“So, dinner?” Amy asked, her hand moving to brush his flannel-covered bicep affectionately.

Jake laughed and said, “Certainly, m’lady.” He made a big show of pulling out her usual dining chair, hastily moving the mysterious gift bag to the floor beside him.

They ate potato pancakes and pierogis together, catching each other up on their days. Amy told him all about Lohank’s cabin foreclosure and he helped her theorize motives for the string of homicides she was working. He told her all about his day off, which mainly consisted of the amazing soft pretzel he’d eaten between stores and how he’d tried to convince Charles to buy clothes that weren’t beige; he had not been successful.

When he was finished describing the pretzel, she paused before deciding to rip the band-aid off. “Alright, tell me about the sneakers. How many pairs did you buy this time?” She could care less about sneakers, but she loved the way his eyes crinkled with excitement and his hand gestures kicked up about ten notches when he spoke about them.

He laughed and put his hands up in self-defense. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t that bad today. I only bought two pairs. Are you proud of me?”

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head at him curiously. Buying only two pairs wasn’t bad at all, especially for someone in as much debt as Jake, but he usually came home with five pairs minimum after every trip to the Jersey outlets. “Only two? I thought the Nike outlet was having a huge sale. You said, and I quote, it was the sneaker sale of the century.”

He looked down at the table for a moment before looking back at her. She noticed his hands wringing in his lap, something he only did when he was nervous. “I’m trying to cut down on spending. Y’know, get my crushing debt under control.” He shrugged his left shoulder in false indifference, indicating he cared more than he wanted to let on.

Amy melted. She reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it three soft squeezes. “Babe, that’s great. And, for the record, I’m really proud of you.” He squeezed her hand right back and smiled her favorite closed-mouth smile. “Alright, let’s see the shoes.”

His eyes sparked mischievously and he crossed his arms tightly against his chest, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, Ames. I’ve been wearing my new kicks the whole time you’ve been home and you never even noticed. Some detective you are.” She looked down and, sure enough, there were brand new black-and-white sneakers on his feet under the table. Amy cursed herself inwardly for missing the obvious; she needed to say something to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off of her boyfriend’s face. Before she could come up with a retort, the smirk left his face on its own and morphed into something more sheepish and apprehensive.

“I actually got you something today.” He leaned over the side of his chair and came back up with the mysterious gift bag she’d seen when she’d first walked in that evening. He placed it quietly on the table in front of her before clasping his hands together in his lap, waiting. She looked from his hesitant eyes to the silvery tissue of the bag and sifted through the wrapping until her hands hit something solid. She reached in and pulled out a cardboard shoebox.

She couldn’t help but be surprised. Jake had never bought her clothing before; he knew it wasn’t her thing and they had such different tastes. He was much better at small, thoughtful gifts anyway. Nobody knew her as well as Jake, so the shoes couldn’t be that bad, right? She steeled herself, preparing to plaster a fake smile on her face just in case the shoes weren’t her style.

She pulled off the top of the lid and her eyes settled on a pristine pair of black-and-white sneakers, identical to the shoes Jake had purchased for himself. They were clean and simple, and she could tell immediately that they would go with most of her casual wardrobe.

She looked up at Jake who was practically bursting with excitement – his hands were wringing nervously in his lap again and his lips were slightly upturned waiting for her response. His eyes were doing the crinkly thing she loved.

“Jake, did you get us matching shoes?” She couldn’t hide the affection in her voice.

His slightly quirked lips transformed into a full-blown, wide smile as he practically shouted, “Yes! So we can be twinsies!” She laughed outright, his glee starting to infect her. “And…”, his voice was quieter now, more serious. “I wanted to give you your first pair of non-exercise sneakers.”

Amy knew what Jake wasn’t saying. He wanted her to share his passion, to understand him on a deeper level – the sneakers were a fragment of Jake’s identity and he wanted her to be a part of that. Amy had never loved him more. She leaned across the table and softly pressed her lips to his once again, stroking his left cheek with her right thumb as she pulled back. She looked him in the eyes directly and reassured him, “I love them. Let’s be twinsies.” He shook his head a little and grinned as Amy went to pull her boots off and put her new sneakers on.

She had to admit they were cute and comfy, definitely nothing like the thick, heavy sneakers Jake usually gravitated to. She stuck her right foot out next to his left foot, their matching shoes lined up perfectly on the hardwood floor. She looked up at Jake and smiled, placing her hands on her hips in an attempt at a supermodel pose. “What do you think, babe?”

Jake’s entire face lit up as he looked down at their shoes before sweeping his eyes back up to Amy’s face. “I think I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

Before she could even begin to respond, he gently grabbed her around the waist and picked her up bridal-style, jogging with her to their bedroom. Amy yelped and laughed, her hands clinging to his neck and her shiny new shoes dangling in the air. She didn’t care much about sneakers, but she would wear the hell out of them if they made him smile like that.

#i wrote a thing #jake x amy #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #fic #b99 fanfiction

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aforestcreature · 4 years

Photo

Two

In the Forest lived a Beast. And a boy. And, luckily for both, a sister. The sister kept her white hair long and the boy’s green hair shaved close to his head.

The Beast’s fur wasn’t black like the dog that barked at them from the edge of town. It wasn’t black like anything. Maybe like the night sky without the blue. Black like when you look too long you forget anything else exists. Even so, the boy loved to look, because in the fur there were stars. Constellations more complicated and vast than those in the sky above them. He also liked to look because sometimes nettles and bugs would get caught in the fur and the Beast would be a pain until he got them out.

The boy and his sister each had three names: the names that, when they had to, they gave to people in town, the names they called each other, and their true names.The Beast didn’t have any name, or any need for a name, so they just called him Beast.

In town, they were Winnie and Will. To each other, Wen and Willow. Only their mother had called them by their true names, always whispered, always at night. She taught them to hold every syllable close, closer even than she’d taught them to hold each other.

“A name is like a gift,” she’d said, “but also like a knife.”

Willow didn’t really know what that meant. He’d never even said his own name out loud. He didn’t think much about it, until he woke up on his sixteenth birthday unable to remember the name at all.

He didn’t panic. Willow never panicked. But the need to hear it out loud nagged at him all day, as he got water from the stream with Beast, as he ate the pastry from town, sweet and somehow still warm, that Wen had surprised him. It nagged at him while he followed his sister east, towards the lake.

Wen picked her way through the trees on bare feet, silent. Willow stomped along ahead of her in boots he’d found at the edge of town. They were heavy and loud and Wen couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t belong in the Forest. Willow reveled in the feel of them holding him to the earth below. Wen thought maybe she should just be grateful anything grounded him at all.

“Some things haunt you, baby brother.”

“Hunt you?” Willow asked. He turned to face her, walking backwards. He deftly stepped over roots and ant hills without a glance. Even in those human boots that smelled of metal.

“Haunt.”

“Well, some things also hunt you, you know.”

She knew. When you’re a doe, men hunt with guns. When you’re a girl, they hunt with their eyes. The darkness hunts. Not the comforting darkness of the Forest, always lit with tiny eyes. Not the darkness of the Beast’s fur, full of stars. But the true darkness, the deep dark that creeps up when you least expect it. The dark that creeps up inside.

“That’s true, Willow. Some things will hunt you. But I’m talking about haunting.”

“Like what?” He skipped around a tree and vanished. Like the thought of you disappearing for real, she thought. The thought of you not existing at all. She played with a tiny bottle tied at the nape of her neck, knotted into her waist length hair and sloshing with a pale blue liquid.

“Like the crying girl who wakes us up sometimes. That’s a haunting.” She followed the rustle of leaves that showed where her brother moved about between the trees. “Or the nights when Beast can’t sleep and goes off into the forest. He’s haunted.”

Willow reappeared right in front of her, a look of concern on his face.

“What haunts Beast?” he asked.

Wen shrugged and pulled him along with her. “It’s getting late.”

“Are you throwing me a birthday party?” He grinned and disappeared again.

“Willow!” Wen’s voice was always soft, she rarely spoke above a whisper. But her shout rang out through the trees. Birds flew from branches.

“What?” Willow appeared before her again.

“Stop disappearing, baby brother.” She rubbed her eyes and pushed her hair, now faintly glowing, out of her face.

“Okay, okay. Can you tell me where we’re going?”

“Almost there.” Wen sighed.

The Forest was quiet, still. They didn’t run into any one they knew, or didn’t know. The Beast didn’t follow. The sun was bright and the shade cool. Wen wanted to find a patch of grass, lie down, and sleep for days.

Instead, she quickened her pace, let Willow fall in step behind her. When she glanced back, his edges blurred like he wanted to disappear, like he needed to. He resisted for her.

Finally, Wen stepped out of the trees into a sun-drenched field of wildflowers. Willow hesitated, his heart stuttering.

“I feel weird,” he called when she beckoned him.

“Weird?”

“Like I’ve been here.” Willow took a tentative stepped forward, then another.

Wen nodded. “You were born here.”

She settled in a patch of grass surrounded by flowers. The breeze lifted strands of her hair, revealing the plants knotted underneath. A small bone clinked against a shell. He sat down across from her, resting his chin on his knees.

“Will you tell me about it?” He asked softly.

“That’s why we’re here.” Wen wouldn’t meet his eyes. They spent a lot of their time being quiet together, Wen braiding things into her hair while Willow read books stolen from town. They didn’t speak when they cleaned the Beast’s fur, foraged for berries, or swam in the stream. They spent most of their days in silence, but Willow felt like this one was crushing him.

“You were little. Five years old?” he prompted. "And you saw the will-o’-wisp. I know that part.”

Wen nodded. “I was sleeping in the fox den, with the pups. Mama told me to stay there for the night. She always did when she had to go into town. But that night, a little light woke me up, dancing in front of my face. The will-o’-wisp. I was half-dreaming when I followed it, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Yes. I remember. It led you to Mama and me and that’s why you call me Willow.”

Wen took a deep breath and finally looked at him. “Not exactly. I did follow the wisp to this field. It led me here and I found Mama. And she was…making you.” Wen buried her face in her hands.

“Making me?” Willow scrunched up his eye brows the way he had when he was little. He wasn’t little now. He was taller than her, he was strong. She couldn’t constantly watch him anymore. Not when he was always disappearing, not when he was obsessed with going into town, obsessed with human shoes and books and girls. He deserved to know.

“Willow, you are enchanted.” She shook her head and tried again. “No. You are an enchantment.”

“I’m— what?”

“Mama made you with magic. And clay from the river. I still don’t understand. Before she— before she was gone, she tied this into my hair and told me to keep it safe. To keep you safe.” She pulled a braid from the back of her head, showed him the tiny corked bottle knotted into it. In the bottle were a few drops of a pearlescent blue liquid. “Now it’s almost gone. The stuff inside, the spell. It’s almost gone and I have to leave you for a while. I have to find those women. The ones who would visit Mama, you remember? I have to figure out how to fill it back up.”

“I’m not real?” He moved up onto his knees, stared at his open palms in front of him. His outline blurred until Wen put her hands on his shoulders.

“You are real. I promise, baby brother, you’re real.” She pulled him into a hug. “Don’t you feel real?”

“Not always.”

“You get angry at me, and you miss Mama. You wear big loud boots because they make you feel tough and you have a crush on a human girl and you’re Beast’s best friend. You’re so real, Willow. That’s why I have to go, tonight. Right now. I have to find out all the things she didn’t have time to tell me.”

Willow couldn’t stop looking at his hands. “You can’t leave the Forest. You don’t even know how to talk to people, not really. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous for you if I stay here and do nothing. I’m going. Mama was suppose to teach me all of this.Those women, they’ll be able to. I’m going to learn and then I’ll be back. But you have to stay here. Please don’t argue.”

Willow let out a harsh laugh. “I just found out I’m literally made of clay and you’re leaving the Forest for the first time in your life and you’re asking me not to argue. Next you’re going to tell me, in your most serious voice, not to go into town while you’re away. To just live off berries and—“

“I’m not going to say that.”

“What?” It unnerved him that Wen had to look up to meet his eyes. She’d been taking care of him for so long.

“You know how to stay safe. You know you can’t be reckless. Not just for you, but for Beast, and the tree spirits, and everyone. If you want to go into town, you want to buy some bread from that girl, that’s on you, baby brother. I’m leaving to help you, but I’m also leaving because I trust you. You’re not a child anymore.”

“Wen, tell me my true name.”

“You know your true name.” She laid back in the grass and he laid next to her. They didn’t usually look alike, Willow always laughing or angry, Wen quiet and soft. But in that moment they did, with the blue sky reflected in their light eyes, their pale skin faintly glowing, their hands crossed identically across their stomachs.

“I can’t remember.” Willow’s voice broke. “Mama told me to never forget, and never tell anyone but I can’t remember it. That makes me feel not real.”

Wen pushed up onto her elbows, looked around the clearing, and leaned in close.

“Gwilym Salm Fen.”

Willow shivered.

“And what’s yours?” he whispered.

Wen grinned, “I’ll never tell.”

That night, Willow went back into the Forest alone. The Beast was waiting for him along the way. The boy tangled his fingers in the Beast’s wild fur and let him lead them home.

Wen kept going east, towards the water. When she reached the lake, she changed into the rumpled clothes from her bag. She remembered her mother heading into town in the worn jeans and soft white shirt. They were baggy on Wen, she had to roll the waistband of the jeans to keep them from sliding down her hips. She didn’t put the shoes on yet, a pair of scuffed sneakers. She couldn’t bear the feel of them.

She crossed over an old wooden bridge where the river met the lake. With one hand, she carried her shoes, with the other she waved to the nixie below.

For the first time in her life, she headed to the train station.

xx T

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