#first time writing for tom

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism (lmk if i forgot anything!) murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here

chapter: 1/? (chapter 2 here)

MASTERLIST

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

A/N: this is what happens when i let my brain loose to do whatever tf it wants (title is from attention by doja cat as is the general theme)

Show you how to touch it Hold it like it's precious It don't need your lovin' It just needs attention

You were getting tired of this charade.

Snow was courting you, or so it would seem. In truth, it was all for show. He was seen with you on his arm at public events, just enough to make it look like you were together. Marriage was probably further down the line, but Snow was in no rush for that to happen. For now, he was pleased with the positive attention he received for appearing like a reliable, loving, doting partner.

“There’s a science behind it,” Cordelia, Snow’s preferred public relations manager - and one of the Capitol’s best - had told you in a meeting between the three of you, discussing strategy, coordinating events, and how best to make the relationship seem authentic. “The more the public see you as grounded, committed, and warm, the more respect they hold for you. The more open they are to your ideas, and any changes you make as president.”

You’d concealed your smirk well enough for it to go unnoticed upon hearing that.

Snow was a lot of things, but he was never warm. The name itself decreed it. He was cold, calculating, sharp witted, manipulative. Power hungry.

You were fine with the arrangement at first. It suited your thirst for power; despite coming from one of the richest families in the capital, Snow’s power was of a different breed. You wanted in, and so when your social circles crossed over and the proposition was made, you’d risen to the occasion.

The reality was this: it was a good arrangement. Coriolanus was adored and admired by any outsider with a pair of eyes, and you got anything you wanted. You got to live in the manor house Coriolanus occupied, eating good food while being waited on hand and foot. You got to network with powerful people in the highest of society. Even if you wanted someone executed, it would be carried out in turn, without question. Name it, and it was yours. Snow was a generous host and ally to you.

It was everything you wanted.

Almost.

Somehow, despite it all, all the custom gowns shipped in from the expensive designers, the buffet spreads and the silk sheets, the way that people had begun to stare in respect as soon as you walked into a room, there was just one thing that itched at you, one thing you knew wasn’t part of the plan.

It was Snow.

Somewhere, between the light kisses in front of expectant eyes, the gentle hand on yours at dinner, that was hurriedly removed once you were behind closed doors again, you’d grown a gnawing, incessant want towards the man that had given you almost everything you could ever hope for.

Eight months, this had been going on. Eight months since Snow suggested this business proposal. Sex was never a part of the deal. And of course, you couldn’t sleep with anyone you pleased; that would be catastrophic for both of your reputations. And so it had been eight months since anybody had touched you other than yourself, biting your pillow so nobody could hear Snow’s name on your lips as you gripped the sheets. Even if you wanted to sleep with other people, you couldn’t. Truth is though, you’d developed rather expensive taste. A taste for only him. Even if you had the choice, nobody else would do.

You wondered if he ever thought of you while he touched himself. That thought slipped into your head every so often, when your hand was between your thighs. Then it became a more frequent occurrence. Then it became a nightly one, and by then, you were pretty sure you’d started going crazy.

You weren’t a romantic - this arrangement would never have worked if you were. You were like him; power hungry, relentless, impatient. And most of all, when you wanted something, you got it. And you wanted to seduce Coriolanus Snow.

So you’d started leaving breadcrumbs. Put an extra glint in your eyes when you glanced over at him, in public, first, and then in private more and more. You’d thrown out dozens of your more conservative dresses, keeping only the shortest ones that hugged your hips and dropped tantalisingly low on the neckline. Started wearing them more around the house, pretending to drop things just so you could bend down in front of him.

You estimated this act would last for a good week or two before Snow folded.

You were wrong.

If anything, it seemed to render Snow even more indifferent to you than he’d been before you started playing your little games. And each time he ignored you, glanced unimpressed at your outfit then looked away, or full-on walked right past you out the room, you started to simmer even more.

A normal girl in a normal situation would take a hint, cut her losses. But you were no normal girl, and this was no ordinary situation.

You had to be in the same boat, surely. Snow was still just a man, after all. A man with similarly limited options, and you knew he must’ve at least found you a little attractive, else he wouldn’t have chosen you to parade around on his arm in public, in pretty dresses and expensive jewellery.

Snow’s indifference only fuelled your fire. Sure, an ordinary girl would just give up. But eight months of this torture and you were at your breaking point. Besides, it was either him, or nobody. You weren’t giving up. Not in this lifetime.

So you got more obvious. Started taking breakfast in your nightgown each morning instead of getting dressed, sitting opposite Coriolanus with several feet of the mahogany table between you, biting into grapes from the fruit bowl and letting the juice trail down your chin, wiping it off then sucking your fingers clean, humming with your digits in your mouth, glancing at him with full-blown bedroom eyes when he’d look over at you from behind his paper.

It was no use. Nearly a month had passed and he’d barely even looked at you for more than a second at a time. Your conversations were short, lacklustre and strictly business related. You’d even tried playing on his heartstrings, asking about his day and work and his family. You were lucky if you got more than blunt, one-worded answers every time.

You’d exhausted yourself with all these failed attempts, until one Thursday night you heard footsteps walking past your bedroom door. This wasn’t abnormal - Snow kept extensive household staff - except for the sound of these were different. You recognised the faint clicking of heels against the hardwood, a sound you heard all the time at galas and balls, but never in these halls, when an event was nowhere on the radar. And this was one such night.

Your curiosity led you off your bed and to the door, gently opening it to glance outside. Whoever it was had turned the corner, the clicking fading down the hallway. You carefully closed the door behind you and began to follow the sound. A chill ran up the backs of your legs as you walked; it was getting slightly colder as winter closed in, and your bedroom attire wasn’t exactly fit for the weather, given that you picked out the laciest, most impractical slips to sleep in, ready for your performance the next morning at breakfast.

You paced down the corridor, winding past the door to each room, a study, a small library (the larger one was downstairs), Snow’s office, and then finally, at the end, the door to Snow’s bedroom.

Oh.

This room was always enigmatic to you, as you’d never been inside. Your obsession with Snow had led you to wonder, day in and day out, what lay behind that door. The color of his bedsheets, what sat on his dresser, the contents of his closet, what aftershave he wore that had caused you to develop a practically pavlovian reaction anytime he got close to you.

You paused, a few feet away from the door, fearing Snow’s response if you crossed that line, if he were to walk out and find you hovering between his office and his room, clearly attempting to eavesdrop.

You heard shifting, then voices inside as you focused all your attention onto listening, trying hard to pick up on the conversation. You took another tentative step forward, practicing in your head what you would say if he stepped outside. I just wanted to ask what you wanted me to wear on Monday’s gala, I was thinking the white dress with the gold detailing. It wasn’t too late in the evening for that to be a viable excuse, if you could make it sound convincing enough.

But as you got closer you noticed something. There was a soft light spilling out from behind the door, which was in fact, just slightly ajar.

Snow usually kept the door locked at all times, you knew that from testing the handle - admittedly more than a few times - when he had been out of the house, and you were certain he wouldn’t be home for hours. This was something different. This felt dangerous, like walking a tightrope that was about to get cut, but the thrill of adrenaline pushed you forward.

You’d stopped hearing voices by then. You snuck ever closer, ears starting to ring as you found yourself drawn to the open door, taking silent steps towards it until there was no going back, and your body was practically flush to it. Holding your breath, you peeked through, pushing it ever so gently, praying that it wouldn’t creak. You had to crane your neck slightly to see any movement in the room, but it didn’t take long to see it, and when you did, you certainly didn’t feel cold anymore. Any curious whims on the color of his furniture and walls were long pushed to the side, because you couldn’t have focused on anything else in the room if you tried.

Snow was sat on a deep red velvet ottoman at the foot of his bed, shirt buttons undone and pushed behind him, leaving you with a full view of his chest. Your eyes panned down to see his usually pristine dress pants rolled carelessly down, pooling around his ankles. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a similarly rushed manner. One hand was behind him, propping himself up, and the other was tightly gripping a handful of blonde hair, belonging to a girl that knelt at his feet in nothing but black underwear and stiletto heels - the culprit of the footsteps - moving her head up and down as Snow roughly guided her, lips parted, head tipped back, eyes firmly shut, breathing roughly. A few strands of damp blonde hair had fallen to his temples, just enough to make him look disheveled, yet somehow still regal, like a greek god.

You stood there, frozen. A million emotions battling for dominance in your head, anger, panic, fear, raging jealousy. Desire.

That was the one that stuck with you in the moment. It was a good thing Snow’s eyes were closed and the girl’s back was facing you, because your feet were firmly planted on the ground, watching this scene unfold, and you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere even if you tried. Watching as Snow’s breathing got heavier, as his grip on the girl’s hair got tighter and more forceful. Watching as her one arm gripped his thigh, and the other moved to where her mouth was, out of your eyeshot, and the obscenity of this was made somehow worse by the fact that you couldn’t see exactly what was happening.

Firstly, because it allowed your brain to fill in the blanks as Snow hissed through his teeth and dropped his head back. Secondly, because from this angle, you couldn’t see the girl’s face, and you were able to picture yourself in her place, wet mouth wrapped around him, being the cause of his undoing.

Come to think of it, there was another reason you were glad you couldn’t see her face, and it was purely for her sake. Because if you could’ve seen her, you would’ve had no excuse not to kill the bitch then and there.

You could hear, though. You could hear her soft moans and the lewd wetness of her mouth as her head moved even faster, before Snow took full control as his hips started to jerk, holding her head in place. There was a fire in the pit of your stomach and your lips were parted, staring. Knowing that if even for a second, Snow opened his eyes just for a glance, he’d see you immediately. You’d be hanged, probably. Or worse. And yet you didn’t run; you couldn’t. Nothing on God’s earth could’ve caused your feet to turn you around and leave the room. It was like you were suspended in some dream-like state, hearing going fuzzy, head spinning.

Then Snow started groaning, breath hitching in his throat as he got closer to the edge, you could hear it. Your brain began melting, and you didn’t have time to think through what would happen after he was finished and he saw you. If you were going to be hanged for this, it would be worth it, you thought, as his hips started to jerk even faster and his groans turned into strained whispers. Fuck and that’s it and good girl, and finally, as his eyes squeezed shut even tighter, and he came into her mouth with a strangled cry, you heard a name.

Yours.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth #ugh i haven't written in so long and this is my first time writing for this fandom go easy on me pls

[violetpixiedust]

thinking about innocent angelic!reader being a risqué burlesque dancer, and catching the attention of billy. (mdni) (pt. 2) ౨ৎ

the bar is stifling, as cowboys, coal miners, and married men alike fill the wooden walls with cigar smoke and pungent whisky breath, thick and heavy amidst the humid air. jesse’s already pulling billy closer to the front of the stage with his bruised hand clasped along the younger man’s shoulder, knocking past gorging men too drunk to spit out a threat or chance them a second glance.

the tinny music starts up just as the pair find a good view point. billy glances around stoically from beneath the dark brim of his hat as the men around him practically hop out of their wooden seats, cheering and yelling at the empty stage as if the beheading of a rebel were about to occur. it isn’t until you come out that he realizes the validity of their reactions.

your soft hair reflects against the warm amber oil lamps above you. it’s done up in an intricate hairdo, littered with silk bows and pearls, royal. billy let’s his cobalt eyes drag down your angelic figure, eyeing the lacy little corset dress that hugged your waist. complete with spaghetti straps and a minuscule hem that left the petal soft skin of your arms and legs bare, save for your knee length stockings. he felt a white hot light burn within his core, releasing a hushed, but pitiful breath at the sight of your near naked frame prancing around the stage.

your glossy smile was bright, framed with a darker shade along your cupid’s bow, emphasizing to the lone cowboy just how plump your lips were. you seemed excited, happy even, but there was a light behind your eyes that grew dimmer with each foul remark spit your way, each taunt, each coin tossed at your heeled mary janes. you longed to be on the big stage. you wanted to preform for artists, you wanted to be in the pictures-

your set is nearly finished. you twirl, just like a ballerina figurine trapped within the confines of a music box. with every spot of your turns you see a handsome man dressed in deep indigo, holster on his hip, hat tilted, hypnotic eyes watching your every move from behind his glass of whisky. he’s oddly quiet, however his chapped lips are parted, revealing that not even he is immune to your siren song. you can’t take your eyes off of him once you regain your footing, neglecting your big sign off to unravel the baby pink ribbon that previously sat in a bow around your neck. the crowd grows cruder at your actions, but you, unknowing to the bigger picture, only point to the outlaw in two counties that the townsfolk call “billy”. his lips form into a subtle smirk, only widening when his blonde friend pushes him forward teasingly, half finished drink handed off to one of the many drunks in the now jealous crowd.

he trots over to you easily, following the manicured call of your curled pointer finger. you’re stood at the edge of the stage, bent over to meet his eye-line. he’s even prettier up close, you think, with your ever softening doe eyes. sun kissed skin stained with dirt and sweat, complimented by a strong bone structure. brunette locks that curl out from beneath his hat, matching eyelashes that frame his darkening eyes as they gaze at you. you giggle softly, a shy, tinkling sound that has billy fighting back his grin. as quickly as you can, you tie your ribbon around his large wrist. a wave of heat rushes through every avenue of your body as you note the size difference of your hands, leaving you tingly and warm. despite being a burlesque dancer, you weren’t the most experienced- besides one or two men who found themselves in the boarding house a bit ago, but you knew lots of tricks from your burlesque sisters, and you were eager to put them to good use with the handsome stranger in front of you- if he would let you.

billy’s heady gaze drops towards your lips as you place a sticky kiss along the corner of his mouth, just catching the prickle of his stubble. you can feel billy’s breath hitch ever so slightly, as the salty taste of his skin causes your long eyelashes to flutter. “meet me backstage after the show. please?” he all but nods at your pleading, letting his usually rough hand brush a loose lock behind your ear as gently as he could. with a good southern-natured tilt of his hat and rosy cheeks, billy gives you a crooked smile that you couldn’t help but flush at.

“yes, m’am.”

#this is my first time writing for him #and i’m 🦋🦋🦋🦋 #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x fem!reader #billy the kid x black!reader #billy the kid x poc!reader #billy the kid x you #william h bonney #billy antrim #billy the kid fic #billy the kid fanfic #billy the kid smut #billy the kid blurb #billy the kid fluff #tom blyth fanfiction #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

[fras-redacted-shapes]

Alan Wake (whose face and voice we find on Thomas Zane and Casper Darling, respectively) ends up in an antagonistic relationship with Alex Casey (whose face and voice we find on Sam Lake and Zachariah Trench, respectively).

Casper Darling and Zachariah Trench? By the end, their relationship was antagonistic.

The Casey-Trench voice was once a guide-friend for Wake-Darling.

And then, they were fighting.

One was suspicious of the other, thinking he was lying, hiding something.

While the other was unaware of the darkness that was growing and consuming the former's mind, his ignorance letting it fester. Feeding it, even.

The original faces, Thomas Zane and Sam Lake? In this latest iteration they've spoken with their own voices while in the Dark Place, only in the presence of a camera.

Alan Wake and Zachariah Trench? In the end, while in a nightmare dimension, both get shot by a woman who both of these men meddled in their lives, threatening the well being of their loved one.

At least one had a hand in his fate, willing it, accepting it. The other? He was fully gone, his will overtaken by the nightmare.

A version of Alex Casey did say it after all. He and writer, they were the same.

And finally, the real Sam Lake? By happenstance he offered his face for a collaborative project, and became a symbol. Even if he tried to fight it, tried to replace it, he had to concede. The story demanded it, as if writing it wasn't enough, the narrative claimed his visage.

There's no need to make overt mentions or put the image of the Ouroboros in posters. The serpent is interwoven in the fabric of the narrative itself.

#now we're only missing a scene with tom zane and sam lake being best friends and the mirror image will be complete #not so much theory crafting more like rambling #because Alex Casey hated Alan's gut the first time he met him on Cauldron Lake's shore lmao #remedy writing in mirroring-self-consuming #self-generating loops and spirals #alan wake 2 #remedy connected universe #control remedy #zachariah trench #casper darling #tom zane #alan wake #dunno where I read that Ilkka Villi's accent was too thick back then so Remedy went with a different actor for Alan's voice #which if true it would an excellent companion to Sam Lake giving his face to Max Payne due to limited budget #One was like: we only have enough money to pay for James McCaffrey's voice #The other: yeah we can afford two actors for Alan Wake #Then a few years later: we are going to exploit all these little fun facts and make them an integral part of the narrative #remedyversetxt

[virgo-dream]

eepy boy you stay on my mind ✨

Details + longer description under the cut!

[ID: A digital drawing of three busts of Tom Sturridge. He wears a grey suit jacket and white tee in all three busts. On the first one, he rests his cheek on his left palm and dozed off. In the second one, he's portrayed in a 3/4 angle facing the left with a stern expression. in the last one he's facing forward, looking sleepy. around the three busts there's a dotted line and hand drawn stars, along with lettering that reads "The Sleepiest Man Alive". the composition references early 2000s style edits.]

I honestly cannot believe I finished this!!! This illustration took me the longest I ever allowed myself to work on something, which was a full 5 days!

I’d like to thank @the-cloudy-dreamer and @bruce-wayne-simp for looking over this drawing in its earlier stages and helping me figure out a few things that weren’t looking right. Also major thanks to @chiron-crow and @softest-punk for the moral support! 💖✨

Also, have some details!

#not sure if the ID is good it’s the first time I write one of those out #tom sturridge #tom sturridge fanart #my art #illustration #unsure of what else to tag this lol

[bisexual-panic]

how Loki and Sylvie’s conversation about their feelings should start:

Loki: i have to be the one to fix the loom, there’s no other way Sylvie: Loki you can’t do that, you’ll die. there has to be another way Loki: there is no other Sylvie it has to be me, i fix the loom and you go back to your timeline and be happy Sylvie: you really think i’m happy? Loki: of course, why wouldn’t you be Sylvie: because *que hour long rant about how she felt about the kiss and all of the interactions since* -and you didn’t even consider you could belong with me a-and *starts getting emotional as she speaks* Loki: *kisses her to calm her down* are you okay? Sylvie: you’re an idiot Loki: D: Sylvie: but you’re my idiot *kisses him again* Everyone else (O.B., Mobius, Casey, B-15): um ok, great that you’ve solved your relationship issues, i think, but maybe we can get back to the problem that is the loom Loki and Sylvie: *making out* Everyone else: o-ok *whispers* wtf do we do now?

#they also start fucking #cause why not #just a random idea that popped into my head #my first time writing dialogue #sylki #loki season 2 #loki laufeyson #sylvie laufeydottir #loki series #tom hiddleston #sophia di martino #pro sylki #loki

[baconcolacan]

I think it would be funny if as soon as Tom accepts AK as his kid, his nesting/paternal instincts go absolutely insane. Tord had to deal with him doing perimeter checks around their home for a few months every night, and when bed time comes around he would always be agitated about how the pillows and duvet are positioned or how the room looks, and wont sleep until he fixes it.

(AK would be sleeping with them the first few months bc poor kid :[)

Ofc he would be extremely overprotective of his kid for a while, he’d literally be shaking if he can’t see where AK is in the room. Cue random clicking noises from Tom and replying chirps from AK at every hour of the day.

(Tord: I feel like I’m in a zoo….)

His protectiveness also extends to his husband, Tom is practically curled around Tord for the first few months. To people on the outside it looks normal, yknow, for Lt. General Thompson to be near the Red Leader, but in reality Tom has become clingier than usual, and wont even retreat into his office plus he’s always touching Tord somehow.

Tord thinks its cute for a while, then not so much when he’s trying to work and Tom is always hovering/sitting on him/asking him if he needs things all the time etc etc.

#ew Stay AU #ew Stay AU writings #My cats acted this way towards each other when they had their first litter lmao #wants to be with babies AND each other all the time #Tord VA: [gently pushes Tom away with a hand] Kjaere can you move I need to get that paperwork #Tom VA: You SHOVE me?? YOU SHOVE ME LIKE A STRANGER?? OH! OH! JAIL! JAIL FOR HUSBAND FOR ONE MILLION YEARS!!!! #tomtord #tordtom #<<tagging just in case

[anukulee]

Dear Pebble (Jonathan Pine Letter)

Dearest @liminalpebble,

Is there anything I might be able to do for you, given the nature of our intimacy as of last night? For I have not sought comfort in one such as ravishing as you in quite some time, not since Jed, and before her Sophie. Many women in the past have taken issue with my work, given my late hours. Even more so if they hear of the scars that have haunted my past, yet still you listened. You actively took part in talking, and you allowed me to come out on my own time. In return, I listened to you, as with each word you spun I was amazed how one as ravishing could be plagued with such problems. Alas, I have learned some of the most beautiful women seem to have far too much misfortune fall upon them. Through I intend to make up for it, if you shall allow me. First I will go down upon you just as I did last night. Yet rather than run against you as you wish, I shall truly bring you pleasure like never before. Each lick of my tongue brings you to the cusp of coming, as your moans link throughout our room. My hands grasped your beautiful breast, for as Weasley said, "There is a shortage of perfect breasts in this world, could be a pity to damage yours." For your past lovers have failed in the task in bringing you pleasure, for that shall change tonight, and every night after. So how about it, will you allow me to be the only one ;)?

Signed,

Jonathan Pine (Your Night Manager)

@mochie85 @michelleleewise @aesonmae @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lady-rose-moon @lokisbirdofhermes @lokisprettygirl @lokischambermaid @smolvenger @the--sad--hatter @wheredafandomat @peacefulpianist @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @immyowndefender @november-rayne @five-miles-over @xorpsbane @skymoonandstardust @lotsoflokilove23 @simplyholl

@ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @gigglingtiggerv2

#jonathan pine #the night manager #tomhiddleston #tom hiddlestone #Jonathan tom hiddleston #friendly letters #tagging mutuals. #lovely mutuals #song included #first time writing Jonathan #ignoring canon #youtube #Youtube #present #get help #so yeah #help liminal pebble

[angel-inked]

~Johnny Vandal~

(Gif credit)

I had to write a little something something for Johnny, been following this movie since early August, and the trailer did not disappoint!

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons

"We ridin' boss?"

"Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

"Suit yourself."

The other Vandel revved his motorcycle and speed off, leaving Johnny alone with his vices. A half smoked cigarette, and a barely touched cup of coffee from a nowhere truckstop. Being on the road all the time could wear on a person, but Johnny was used to that, having been a long haul trucker in his previous years. He's become quite the nomadic sort, between all the one night motels and crashing at other Vandels residents periodically. He never stayed in one spot very long.

"I'll be gone by morning."

A plum of smoke wafted into the night air as he exhaled, momentarily pausing his contemplation of his cigarette for a drought of coffee. Cigarette smoke and coffee proved to be a pungent combination, "you could bottle that." Benny told him. Laughter came from the smoker joint situated behind him, casting a glance at the young group of clean cuts walking away from the establishment. For them, this was the idea of a wild night out. Johnny shook his head, he doesn't look for wild, wild finds him.

He stood from his bike seat, only to stretch his legs for a moment before he took off again. Coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other. Glancing up and down the highway, figuring he'd just let the wind pick a direction for him again, like he always had. He watched a man quickly usher his wife into their car as soon as the man laid eyes on his jacket. This brought a small laugh out of the older biker, "I haven't even given you a reason to be afraid yet." He thought to himself, all with an amused smirk.

This life had led him into a heap of scrapes, his calloused skin bore many a scar from bar fights, club disputes, and various other encounters of the dangerous kind. However harden his exterior, Johnny considered himself a simple man. After all, all he really needed was a cigarette, a coffee, his bike, and the open road.

#tom hardy #hope you enjoy #Johnny Vandal 🏍 #the bikeriders #December 1st #first time writing for this character #how does a full length Johnny fic sound 🤔

[reachexceedinggrasp]

#loki #tom hiddleston #pencil crayon #traditional art #my art #a beautiful space prince #a slightly better scan #still doesn't fit and still looks distorted but whatever #I privated the first one in shame #I do think I've gotten slightly less lazy with the hair although it's still probably not finished enough #I started drawing this in November to gear to up to finally finish the next chapter of Icarus #then my fucking life fell apart. again. #every time I sit down to write that chapter something catastrophic happens #I feel cursed

[compacflt]

This is niche (maybe) but please share more about ice and mav at Oshkosh!! Do they go yearly? Or just the one time? Are they part of any aviation enthusiast communities???

yes yes yes!!! going to air shows is 100% a date for both of them. i feel like: a couple things:

- they’ve both probably seen the blue angels so many times it’s not super exciting anymore, and until they retire & become private citizens it’s also too big of a Thing for them to go, so they try to go to civilian/private air shows if they can

- one exception is fleet week for obvious rzns. They both probably have to do shit for fleet week on the reg. Ice especially

- i do keep thinking it would be funny for mav to do like a two year tour with the BAs at some point but there wasn’t room for that in the narrative so it’s Schrödinger’s headcanon

- before they retire their schedules are super crazy packed & don’t always line up, even if they request certain dates (like each other’s birthdays, Xmas, thanksgiving, Oshkosh etc) off in advance, so Oshkosh specifically doesn’t become yearly until after they retire. But after they retire they do annually fly in to Oshkosh in their p-51. lots of picnic lunch breaks in Reno/Omaha/Boise etc

- theyve been to the big international air shows (farnborough, Paris, NOT dubai for security/gay people issues, etc) together a couple times when they can swing it. (Me looking for any excuse to send them back to europe on vacation) but before they retire it’s also probably a Thing. So Thing-ness (public & Navy engagement etc) has to be accounted for when they’re planning their trip. they do have a responsibility to rep the Navy as best as they can etc etc

- Thing-ness also has to be accounted for when joining aviation enthusiast groups… after they retire & get married hell yes!!! they probably have a ton of civilian aviation friends & are pretty involved. not before their marriage though. It takes a while for them to come out of the hidden little shell they’ve been living in for thirty years & make friends as a real couple. but they do eventually.

#maverick criticizing the blue angels every time they see them ‘I would’ve done it cooler’ #joint blue angels thunder birds show ‘oh my god. WHAT does the Air Force think they’re doing. such poor form #it’s such a shame to abuse a viper like that i would’ve done it 10x better’ #this one-shot is another one i haven’t read since I posted it in October #hmm. #some issues #PLANES DONT RUST THEYRE ALUMINUM (but it’s for the metaphor so it’s ok) #i think when you read my plane writing moments you can tell that i am very very enthusiastic about planes #but i don’t know the first thing about how they work or how to fly them #my boyfriend did my physics homework & took my physics tests for me in high school. i never learned even elementary physics #it was covid high school okay we all had to make do #bernouilli’s principle??? it’s all greek to me love <3 #(hungry for pussy voice) (twirling my hair) pressure differentials are like soooo interesting #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #top gun #asks #props to all you STEM people. i can’t do basic math #i keep entertaining the idea that ice & mav buy a t-38 in the late 2010s #after i saw a t-38 on sale for $800k apparently you can just buy them #that’s the dream

[noodlebearsstuff]

first chapter is out!!! please go check it out, it's my first fic. i'm super excited about this and will be sharing info about the oc's if you're interested

#tomarry #tom riddle #harry potter #fandom ships #my fic #fanfic #first fic #writing #time travel #fix it fic #fix it au

[lokilow-keystabbing]

the fact that red skull got the tessaract out of the wood carving of Ygdrassil by pressing the eye of a Snake

#someone on that writing team actually put in the time and effort #mindblowing #loki #loki series #captain america the first avenger #red skull #marvel #mcu #tom hiddleston

[arunneronthird]

i feel like tom taylor, whos writing dceased, was contractually obligated to write damian having a girlfriend and he refused so they tied him to a chair and made him do it by force cause like

theres no way he willingly made him so incredibly uninterested in his gf and its the funniest shit

he will be all over jon the whole time and check hes okay and tell him hes the most important person in his life and sew his cape? what was that scene actually, im not okay

hell have these heart to hearts that are in my opinion incredibly beautiful and then?

cassie appears for .3 seconds and says "ah yes my boyfriend who i love i guess" and pats him in the shoulder or something and reappears 3 chapters later, it has me in tears

someone save tom taylor from himself

#tom are u okay #how can a man write nightwing 2016 and then this and superman son of kal-el #i genuinely laugh every time i see cassie lile ive never seen such a lack of chemistry in my life #i really liked the first part of dceased too! so its a shame #dc comics

[coconut530]

👁️Movie Night👁️

#6 #The Magnus Protocol #Okay Thursdays are like too hectic days for me so doodles will be posted on Fridays now hahahahha #I’m a teensy bit sad the eps have been getting shorter and shorter as the weeks go on but this one they still delivered #Very concerned (tm) for Sam like buddy everything’s okay here’s a blankie and hot chocolate mwah #Did you think Sam that the response department could Respond to you. Hm???? #Maybe don’t mess around with paperwork #Nothing’s better than hearing “welcome to my twisted mind” and “hello all you sick freaks out there” in Jonny Sim’s voice #Very perfect #“I only gave them my name how’d they get my address” YOU SHOULD BE CONCERNED TOM’S TERRORS #YOU JUST BYPASS EVERY RED FLAG #I WONDER IF THE GRAFFITI ON THE THEATRE WAS THE SAME GRAFFITI ON THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE #BC THESE BOTH SEEM LIKE “EYE” DESIRES #“It’s what’s on the inside that counts” DANGER POPCORN ALL POPCORN IS DANGER #…MOVIE NIGHT EVERYONE #Klaus sir if the computer code is German did you write it or are you in the computer beep once for first two times for second #Did Lena brutal pipe murder you #ALICE WHAT DO YOU KNOW DO YOU KNOW WE’RE LISTENING UHHHH NO WE’RE NOT #Also do you like how I made Tom the pupil of an eye shaped panel huh huh #I’m a genius #cool episode

[detectivenightwing]

I'm sorry but Kelly Thompson saying the reason Babs could not be in the Birds of Prey book is because she would die on a mission is such a stupid writing choice.

If only when Babs founded and lead the Birds of Prey she did so remotely if only people respected Babs time as Oracle.

If only a single damn writer at DC respected disability representation and made the smallest push for Babs to be Oracle.

But no instead Babs gets sidelined from the team she created and lead as a disabled woman cause she potentially gets shot in the field.

Beyond frustrating at this point the way DC has all but destroyed Oracle's legacy and any hope I had as a disabled person that this book might maybe be different is gone.

#oracle #barbara gordon #birds of prey #i think about how 4 years ago Babs had retired as Batgirl and everyone waa just calling her Oracle #which was the first step to her being Oracle full time and wheelchair user again #and then Tom Talyor came in with that ugly ableist Batgirl suit and every able bodied write has not looked back since