#and a very specific few in the Sleep Token fandom

[melit0n]

I think 'gently running my hands through your brain wrinkles in awe' is quite possibly the oddest tag in a reblog I have ever gotten, let alone a general compliment, from a Sleep Token post and I thought I'd share because I maniacally giggled at it for a few minutes

(from my post about Calcutta here)

[anotherghoul666]

i JUST started listening to sleep token and went to the tag only to find you there, please tell me more about this band?? collective?? i need more

You got it buddy! One order of a full Sleep Token beginner primer, coming up!

Sleep Token are a rock? metal? genre blending collective based out of England, tho nobody's 100% sure of where the members are from because they are also a masked and anonymous project. Their style of music varies greatly from album to album and song to song. From soft ballads, to electronic music, to indie, to progressive / prog metal, to post-rock / post-metal, and now with their newest singles, a definite shift into heavier sounds with roots in djent and -core genre elements like breakdowns and scream vocals, let's just say they are very diverse and there are not many bands that sound the same out there. Their blending is pretty unique, and imo will prove to be genre-defining in the coming years. They are signed to Spinefarm records and they're touring as we speak in Europe.

They formed in 2016 and self-released their first EP called One that same year. Their second EP aptly called Two was released in 2017 on Basick. They currently have two full length albums out on Spinefarm, 2019's Sundowning and 2021's This Place Will Become Your Tomb, which are the crux of the material you wanna look into. I always advise that you listen to the whole albums front to back because artists plan these tracklists deliberately, so we owe it to them to consume their output the way they intended us to, but! I also realize nowadays nobody does that because of Spotify and streaming, unfortunately, so: for Sundowning, I'd recommend Sugar as a first track because it touches on both the soft and harsh sides of the album beautifully; and for TPWBYT I'd say start with Alkaline (bonus points for a delicious video to get you into their visual side too). On January 6th and 7th 2023, they released two new songs to showcase their new sound, Chokehold and The Summoning. These two singles seem to be the optimal path currently to get into the band. There are rumors of a new album called Take Me Back To Eden to be released this year, there's a tracklist floating around online though we don't know if its legit, and there are also rumors for new singles coming out, at the time of writing this, tomorrow and in two days, on the 19th and 20th of January 2023. There's also a recording of an acoustic show called From The Room Below floating online, with new takes on their previous songs and a few choice covers like Billie Eilish's When The Party's Over, surprising crossovers that are emotional experiences.

Now, visually and in theme, you'll notice the band has a storyline of sorts. The lore of Sleep Token is this: the band was formed after an ancient deity called Sleep (a reductive name that doesn't encompass the deity's nature at all, but its true name cannot be spoken in any human tongue) revealed itself to the singer, Vessel, in his sleep. Sleep appears to be a powerful force worshiped in ancient civilizations, that gave them the blessing of dreams and the curse of nightmares. Since this apparition, Vessel's life purpose has been to worship and make offerings to Sleep via music. The members of the band are all called vessels, we can infer vessels for Sleep. The singer is Vessel I, but the fandom's moved to just calling him Vessel. The other members are just called by their numbers. II is on drums, III is on bass, IV is on guitar. They're all vessels. They wear masks to hide their identities, with what seems to be full body black paint and some variety of stage costumes including hooded coats and capes and now apparently full pauldrons and void wizard staves.

You'll come across some specific lingo when encountering Sleep Token content or in the fandom. These terms mostly come from their official social media so they use them themselves, it's not fan made. "Worship" is the tagline, kinda like "Nema" is with Ghost. You'll see fans telling each other that all the time. To Worship is to take part in enjoying the band in any way you can: listening to the music, watching videos, streaming their stuff, spreading the word, going to shows, buying merch, etc. Sleep Token's shows are called Rituals, like Ghost's. Pictures and videos are referred to as Sacred Moments, or Sacred Moments in Time. The bands they tour with are called Brethren. Sleep Token's songs are called Offerings. Because they are written as a means to Worship the Sleep deity. Offerings can also be in the form of instrument playthroughs, videos, etc. What the band produces. When you listened to new material or acquire merch, you also Consume. A note on their anonymity to finish: while there are rumors about who the band members are, nothing's confirmed and the band's explicit wish is to maintain this anonymity, so it fundamental to respect those wishes and not try to dig. They value art for art, they let the music speak for itself, and they explicitely wish for their music to be detached from who they are as people. Let's leave the magic in place both for them and for us!

Welcome to the fold! Worship!

[saatmans]

About how I discovered Sleep Token:

Finding the Sleep Token brought something so incredible into my life. From a young age, I didn't have the opportunity to be who I am because I lived in a conservative home.

So when I left home a few years ago with a mix of problems, including the fact that I had spoken openly about being bisexual and had not been welcomed, I tried to find myself.

I've always been connected to music, metal more specifically. Regardless of the metal subgenre, there is something unique about the rhythm that fills who I have always been.

Last year when Evanescence came to Brazil, playing a show in my state, which is in the northeast of Brazil, I tried my hardest. It was my first show in my life and there I was thinking that finally I began to heal the wounds of the past. I also started studying English, I'm not fluent (yet) and I use Google to communicate because I love these four masked people who give life and give their lives for the Sleep Token .

That I met this year 2024 in January, with my return to my musical taste, a lot about ST ended up coming together with my algorithm and damn I'm so grateful because it changed the chemistry of the my heart.

There's something about Sleep Token that gives me back the vital force that music has always given me. From the type of sound, the lyrics, the performance, the concept, among other things. As soon as I heard them for the first time, I knew that something magical had happened to me that hadn't happened in a long time. Art has always been a fire within me, so much so that I am a writer.

The pandemic took precious time away from us, including people. Particularly, without music, without books and films and my cats I wouldn't be alive. So over the last few years my biggest end of year resolution is live. Serious, I never imagined myself reaching my 30s, today I'm 32 and I'm honestly happy to want to go further.

One day, I played Sleep Token's songs and wow, they have the soul that a good song requires. Also, ST is the kind of band that is a safe place. Especially for us girls and women and it is that there is so much hate towards them, that's why I made the meme of keeping the band in a pot of love, it's how some of us Brazilians talk about protecting those we love. It's not about imprisoning, that's never It's going to be love, okay?

Sleep Token is the first band since my adolescence (not that much I miss) that I feel like talking about, I have a certain hyperfocus on a certain drummer because that's what I wanted to be, but I was born with cerebral palsy and I don't know, maybe one day in an act of pure madness I'll try. But if not, it's for the next life.

I didn't want to create a new social network to talk about them, I remembered Tumblr and how good I feel here. So that's it, I'm writing in English translated by Google while I learn the language, but I won't let anything keep me from what I like really and I thank the ST fandom here on Tumblr for their love, you are very incredible.

I can't wait for the new rituals and to not lose my Brazilian way "Sleep Token come to Brazil!"

Xoxo, Pri. ❤️

[autisticempathydaemon]

I hope you're still doing these aaaaaa! What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why? Aqua Regia by Sleep Token! Specifically the lyrics "my love is an animal call/cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls/between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw" there is just something so VISCERAL about them it really scratches my brain

What is your Enneagram type? Enneagram Type 4 (I can't remember the wing, but I think it's 4w5 aaaaa)

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend This probably does NOT count, I didn't really have an imaginary friend, but this question just reminded me that I used to be OBSESSED with the movie Labyrinth and used to pretend to be Sarah a LOT

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why? I'm more of a fan of short-form science-y or educational videos, but does a 30 minute one count? I really love the a video essay on Ocarina of Time called "OOT - A Masterclass in Subtext"

What is your go-to way to fall asleep? ASMR for sure (I could probably count on one hand the number of times I have fallen asleep in silence over the last year and a half), but I also really like doing nonogram puzzles before bed - I've conditioned myself to get sleepy when I do them 😅

What is your favourite of Redacted’s audios, and why? I can probably fully recite "A Talk With One of Your Devious Owners" at this point - Not only is the really steady monotone tone of this one super relaxing to me, but I really like James as a character with complex and warring emotions. The cat/mouse vibe that this one introduced is very fun, and I love the way he slyly reveals all of the asset's own cards to them.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? I am so sorry to say it, but Caelum does not spark joy 😭 I think he is very sweet, and I love him as a character, but I have a hard time listening to those ones.

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to. Oh god, suddenly I've forgotten every movie or TV show I've ever seen in my LIFE. I would say I could recite a good chunk of Elton John's biopic, Rocketman, BUT ALSO I watched Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory (the one from 1971) a few days ago and was UNSETTLED by how easily I could recite that one line-by-line.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend? I would die to be friends with Huxley. I think he would be SO easy to be around and just be yourself with. He also seems like the type of friend to listen to you actively while somebody talks over you or circle back to what you said when nobody heard you. Plus I just know one of his hugs would fix me.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? mine is also space! I could talk for ages about space. I also have a tendency to get a second wind when I get into bed and I get rambly about whichever latest musical or fandom I'm obsessed with.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo. It has been a MINUTE since I've done this but my favourite gas station snacks were always a bag of salt & vinegar kettle chips + a bottle of Arizona iced tea.

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment. I can't tell if this refers to Redacted Playlists or Music, so I'll answer both: I have a Spotify playlist of songs I associate with Geordi, and no matter WHAT mood I'm in, they ALWAYS hit. They are mainly about love and self-image but even the sad ones don't make me feel super sad, just kinda relaxed and seen, I guess? I relate to Geordi a lot. For Redacted playlists, Sadism's Hold is ALWAYS going to be a winner for me. I have thought about Ivan's arc probably more consecutive hours than any other character.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why? Definitely ASMR/Boyfriend RP type content. I've been getting more comfortable wearing merch out in the real world and I usually find it easier to just refer to it as "a podcast I'm into" 😅

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are! My favourite colour is yellow, I love thunderstorms (the more thunder/lightning) the better, and I want to absolutely eat my hands when media makes a reference to Icarus or Cannibalism as a love language.

Hmmm… interesting. You are a very interesting person who gave me a lot of interesting information to work with, and I like you a lot. You know who else would like you? Ollie.

The Free Spirit is such a fun type, because it’s all in the name; you’re so unique and alive and all over the place in the best way. Just like he did his Coworker, Ollie would so admire you, would be so in awe that someone as vibrant as you is with him. Yet, he is so good for you. You relating to Geordi makes me think you could use someone steadfast, cheerful, and unwaveringly loyal, and Ollie would definitely be that for you.

You would have such a fun, cozy home, you, Ollie, and Cattywumpus. You love space, he loves Star Trek; I bet he loves watching episodes with you and hearing your passionate diatribes on the stars and sci-fi technology. I could also see you helping him become a musical fan, since he’s such a geek in general; I think he’d really enjoy them. I also love to imagine y’all winding down for bed and him just watching you and your puzzles, confused and awestruck and adoring. (Lord knows I am awestruck; I googled nonograms, and I literally couldn’t figure out what you’re supposed to do after three webpages.)

Song:

"What's easy is right", my mother's advice/ You are the reason I never think twice/ Wherever we go, what glitters is gold/ You'll be my best friend until we grow old/ I had a nightmare (oh)/ But now that I'm not scared

Though I don’t necessarily agree with that mother's advice, I do think it fits since it would be so easy for y’all. I think his easygoing, affable nature along with your shared interests means you’ll not just be a good couple but great friends, and that’s the ticket to a comfy, loving home and life with your cat.

Runner-Ups:

Your love for science and space makes Anton a fun choice for one of your runner-ups; I think he’d have the most fun listening to you infodump in addition to having engineering experience to contribute. Vega is a runner-up based solely on what you said about cannibalism as a love language, because I spend a lot of time around @gingerbreadmonsters and could not associate that trope with anyone else.

note: thank you for waiting ☀️

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[fandomfluffandfuck]

so you've posted a lot about måneskin and other bands of the like but im just wondering - do you have any playlists you'd like to share? like, ones with songs you like or maybe a playlist you listen to while you write. i think it would be interesting seeing what you like to listen to with somewhat of a face to connect your music taste to?? (you're really pretty, by the way) 🫶

I think you'll like this ask

I fucking love love love music so I do post quite a bit about it, lol. Plus, I have thought about doing something like what @ixalit did with sharing all his playlists (that are *chef's kiss,* by the way. I have discovered many songs through those playlists 👀) but my Spotify, that I've had for years, is connected to my actual name that I'm not willing to share on Tumblr with this type of fandom account, lol.

I know I could make another account and transfer my playlists to a fandom specific account, but... that's a lot of work. I don't know if I'll do that, lol. If enough people were interested... maybe?

Besides, I don't really have a single playlist I write to. I just throw on whatever and write. Sometimes, I seek out specifically explicit music when I'm writing smut but usually not. Usually, it's whatever that I was playing the last time I had the app open or whatever I'm feeling that day.

And my music taste is a mess haha, I'm all over the fucking place with music. I think if I had to pin it down, my musical soft spot has always been for heavier sounds. Aggressive, heavy shit like all types of metal, rock, and punk have always appealed to me; they're the sounds I always fall back on. That said, though, I also love all types of other sounds, too. Hip hop, indie, jazz, industrial pop, electronic, etc.

Bands, though, yeah. Goddamn, I love bands! I also follow a ton of individual artists, but there's something about bands.

For my own enjoyment, and hopefully yours as well, some good bands (in no particular order):

Måneskin ("TIMEZONE" gives me major evanstan vibes btw 👀 / "SUPERMODEL" is kind of always stuck in my stuck in my head / "MAMMAMIA" is just 🤌🏻Damiano's moans🤌🏻 so you know it's good)

Fall Out Boy (I'm not even being funny when I say I can't narrow it down to a few songs to recommend. I know their entire discography by heart and have been obsessed since I discovered them. They hold a VERY special place in my heart. If I don't know what I want to listen to, I throw them on. If I need comfort, if I need to wallow in feelings, if I need to celebrate--anything.)

Sleep Token (This band FUCKS and turns on my writers brain in the best way (re: "Take Me Back To Eden") / be careful listening to "Blood Sport" because it's devastating / the music video for "Alkaline" will change you 😮‍💨 / and "Sugar" is way too good)

Royal Blood (I think "Lights Out" was the first song I heard from them, and it still holds up / "Blood Hands" is super good too / also "Honey Brains")

The Damned Things ("Keep Crawling" shouldn't be spicy, but it kinda is to me 😮‍💨 / "Something Good")

Halestorm (oh my god, all of their stuff! Lzzy's voice is unreal! "The Steeple" / "Black Vultuers")

Mother Mother (Again, a band that I know their entire discography by heart. A friend bought me one of their CDs before I knew them, and I've been obsessed since listening through the CD the first time. "Life" is comfort food for your ears, as is "It's Alright." Those songs make me cry or scream, depending on my mood, going into the listen)

Nine Inch Nails (NIN f u c k s . "Head Like A Hole" / "The Hand That Feeds")

Waterparks (I've been listening since Double Dare, their first album, and its been wild to watch them grow. I've gotten too many friends hooked on them too, lmao. "Turbulent" / "Dizzy" / "SELF-SABOTAGE")

YONAKA ("Guilty" makes me want to weep / "Punch Bag" is so good)

Muse ("We Are Fucking Fucked" has been my anthem since it dropped lol / "Won't Stand Down" puts me in my Bucky feelings as does "Psycho," "(Drill Sargeant)," and "Dead Inside")

(Thank you <3)

[vivispec]

Solavellan (and Friends) Whumptober 2022 Masterlist

I DID IT

Below is my masterlist of prompts, all 31 of them. 

Every prompt takes place in the Dragon Age universe, and follows either Solas, my Inquisitor Viera’vun, her hunting partner and twin soul Iloniyn, her and Solas’ children Talasyl’nir/Hareva and Salhasil, or my ancient elvhen oc Sha’iletha.

fandom: dragon age inquisition

pairings: solavellan, solas/ancient elf oc, dalish oc & dalish oc, lavellan & dorian, lavellan & varric

individual tags/triggers under the cut, as well as which prompts were specifically filled.

Day 1 - What Blooms in Darkness 

“Out of the Ordinary” Adverse Effects | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

solas, viera’vun tags: first encounter, angst, intent to kill, solas pov

Day 2 - Only Here May We Remain

“Nowhere to Run” Cornered | Confrontation

solas/viera’vun tags: final goodbye, angst, doomed lovers, viera pov

Day 3 - A Ruby Token

“A Hair’s Breadth from Death” Gun Arrow to Temple

solas, iloniyn tags: verbal abuse, enemies, ilo pov

Day 4 - The Brave Front

“Dead on your Feet” Hidden Injury | Can't Pass Out

viera’vun & iloniyn tags: poisoned, refugees, twin souls (platonic soulmates), viera pov

Day 5 - The Foundation of Happiness

“Every Whumpee’s Needs” Blood Loss

solas, sha’iletha tags: ancient elvhen, first meeting, blood, arrow wound, freed slave, self-deprecation, ptsd, lost identity, shai pov

Day 6 - False Mercy

“Proof of Life” "I've got a pulse!"

solas/viera’vun tags: near death, repressed feelings, denial, angst, solas pov

Day 7 - Stand Still

“The Way You Shake and Shiver” Silent Panic Attack | Shaking Hands

solas/viera’vun tags: angst, panic attack, lies, coming clean, viera pov

Day 8 - Honey for a Bitter Medicine

“Everything Hurts and I’m Dying” Stomach Pain | Head Trauma

viera’vun & iloniyn, talasyl’nir tags: solavellan fankid, sickfic, head trauma, disorientation, twin souls (platonic soulmates), ilo pov

Day 9 - En’an’sal’in Sul Nydha

“The Very Noisy Night” Tossing and Turning

solas/viera’vun tags: trouble sleeping, traumatic flashbacks, hurt/comfort, blood

Day 10 - The Enemy Unknown

“Poor Unfortunate Souls”

viera’vun tags: torture, bastinado, psychological manipulation, imprisonment, viera pov

Day 11 - Flesh and Blood

“911, What’s Your Emergency?” Sloppy Bandages

hareva & salhasil tags: solavellan fankids, child injury, blood, hurt/comfort, reva pov

Day 12 - Should’ve Kept That Big Mouth Shut

“What Could Go Wrong?” Cave-in

viera’vun, solas, varric, blackwall tags: cave-in, mostly just party banter tbh, viera pov

Day 13 - The Bearer of Broken Things

“Can’t Make an Omelet Without Breaking a Few Legs” Fracture

iloniyn & talasyl’nir tags: dalish oc, solavellan fankid, child injury, broken bone, adopted father/daughter bonding, hurt/comfort, ilo pov

Day 14 - The Avalanche Descending

“Die a Hero or Live Long Enough to Become a Villain” Failed Escape | “I’ll be right behind you”

solas/viera’vun, cullen, cole tags: believed character death, angst, last words, self-sacrifice, solas pov

Day 15 - A Painful Possibility

“Emotional Damage” New Scars | Breathing Throught the Pain

viera’vun & dorian tags: unplanned pregnancy, morning sickness, abandonment issues, pregnancy termination consideration, viera pov

Day 16 - Ill Omen

“No Way Out” Paralytic Drug

viera’vun tags: imprisonment, failed escape, drug mention, chased, viera pov

Day 17 - I Will Call You Home

“Hanging by a Threat” Breaking Point

viera’vun & talasyl’nir, iloniyn, solas/viera’vun tags: adolescent death, time travel, solavellan fankid, viera pov, solas pov, death threats

Day 18 - Thawed Truth

“Let’s Break the Ice” Treading Water | “Take my coat cloak”

solas, hareva, salhasil tags: solavellan fankids, child injury, a solid amount of solas angst, solas pov

Day 19 - Vulnerable

“Enough is Enough” Head Lolling | Knees Buckling

salhasil, hareva, viera’vun, solas tags: solavellan fankids, post-canon, mana sickness, sudden severe illness, convulsions, fainting, reva pov

Day 20 - Never Fast Enough

“Famous Last Words” Coughing Up Blood | “You’re safe now”

viera’vun & nuarehn tags: pre-canon, dalish ocs, character death, panicking, final moments, last words

Day 21 - Surrender the Weight

“It’s Been a Long Day” Going Into Shock | Fetal Position

viera’vun & iloniyn, viera’vun & varric tags: post-canon, dalish ocs, panic attack, emotional shock, reliving trauma, arrow wound, self-sacrifice, twin souls (platonic soulmates), viera pov

Day 22 - Warm and Briefly Real

“Pick Your Poison” Toxic

solas/viera’vun tags: poisoned, intoxicated, mixed signals, hurt/comfort, caretaker, viera pov

Day 23 - Real Trouble

“At the End of Their Rope” Tied to the Table | “Hold them down!”

hareva, salhasil, solas, viera’vun tags: kidnapping, attempted ransom, solavellan fankids, child injury, self injury, blood magic, post-canon, reva pov

Day 24 - Storm Dancer

“Fight, Flight, or Freeze” “I don’t want to do this anymore”

viera’vun, dorian, the iron bull, cole, iloniyn, gerda tags: childbirth, angst, hurt/comfort, twin souls (platonic soulmates), abandonment trauma, post-canon, viera pov

Day 25 - Thicker Than Blood

“Silence is Golden” Lost Voice | “You better start talking!”

viera’vun & nuarehn, iloniyn tags: mild hurt/comfort, bullying, dalish ocs, found family, kids being cute, viera pov

Day 26 - Singed Wings Still Fly

“No One Left Behind” Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

solas/sha’iletha tags: ancient elvhen, angst, suicidal ideation/thoughts, self-sacrifice, self-deprecation, shai pov

Day 27 - A Hand Outstretched

“Pushed to the Limit” Muffled Screams | Magical Exhaustion | Stumbling

solas/sha’iletha, arahmis/samleal tags: ancient elvhen, restraints, angst, suicidal ideation/thoughts, self-sacrifice, self-deprecation, former slave, solas pov

Day 28 - The Price of a Blind Eye

“It’s Just the Tip of the Iceberg” Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache

solas tags: angst, reaction to assassination attempt, minor character death, solas pov

Day 29 - The Midnight Vigil

“What Doesn’t Kill Me...” Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you”

viera’vun & iloniyn, talasyl’nir tags: hurt/comfort, twin souls (platonic soulmates), dalish ocs, solavellan fankid, post-canon, ilo pov

Day 30 - An Ill-Fated Offering

“Note to Self: Don’t Get Kidnapped” Manhandled | “Please don’t touch me”

sha’iletha shaise tags: kidnapping, child abuse, ancient elvhen, origin story, shai pov

Day 31 - The Dying of the Light

“The Light at the End of the Tunnel” Comfort | “You can rest now”

solas/viera’vun tags: main character death, convulsions, last words, final goodbye, post-canon, viera pov

[lost-between-letters]

If you’re still doing the event, thank you! I admit I had to reread this a few time and search for what you’ve done so far with it to fully get it but that’s me. 😈 looks like fun. Hope you enjoy writing it.

🥀

Fandom: Supernatural

Gender Pref: Both? Lol! Poly would be good but understand if you’re not comfortable with that. Just an idea. I’m flexible since you’re the writer. I just enjoy you’re writing.

Fave Song: (I have a few but these are the first that come to mind.) Body Say by Demi Lovato, Easy Silence by The (Dixie) Chicks, and The Anonymous Ones from the Evan Hansen movie soundtrack.

About me: gender fluid (born female but tends to alternate between identifying as female and/or female; it works for me), pansexual, practicing eclectic witch, second generation (Jewish) American raised in the Deep South by non-southern parents (yes, I’ve actually had a burning cross in my front yard as a child and we toasted marshmallows to it), not actively religious, tends to be very cluttered but great at organizing others lives and at work, customer service type jobs most of life so good with people (most personalities otherwise motto of kill them with kindness has been my thing), adhd, depression, anxiety — a fun mix at times. Lol!

Physically- 5’3”, short auburn hair, glasses, hazel eyes, and adult sunburned white skin covered in freckles, and on the chubby side (been slowly working to tone up some).

Personality- (been told a lot of these most of my life) weird, open minded, easily accepting of others, extroverted, (very adhd but meds help sometimes), outgoing, love to laugh and just enjoy being around people (kind of feed of the energy as odd as it sounds), very comfortable with just about any discussion topic from religion (avoids politics unless social justice-related) to the weird and strange (it’s supernatural fandom so…) to sex, don’t mind admitting when I don’t know something but will work to learn about it, life long learning so I read a lot and love watching documentaries at bedtime to relax and go to sleep too, roll with the punches/resilient person who is rather just vulnerable all the time (I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve per se but I am comfortable showing the world who I am as a person).

That’s all I can think of that could be useful for writing. If you have any questions, message me. 😊

I ship you with Dean and Sam Winchester!

You would have met them on a hunt. More specifically your hunt - you're a practicing witch and it was bound to happen that you'd get connected to some killings. Only problem was, they weren't your fault.

Dean was about ready to shoot and run but thankfully Sam saw that things weren't adding up and pushed his brother out of the way last second. And promptly got you involved in the job as token for your trustworthiness. Dean's idea, obviously.

But the hunt worked out and amazingly enough you guys don't lose contact. Quite the opposite actually.

It was Dean who first asked you to grab a few drinks, he was easy going like that. The date went great and soon you're staying at the bunker more than at your actual home - Dean likes to throw complains your way about it but you know that he loves your presence.

With Sam it took a little longer. You're dating Dean exclusively when you catch feelings for him - and he for you. But you don't act on them, merely spend time together as friends, comparing notes or catching each other late at night with a respective book in hand.

Dean isn't dense. He sees the feelings developing between you two. And amazingly enough, he realises that he doesn't have a problem with any of them. Sam is his brother and while there are certainly boundaries that should never be crossed, not even by the two of them, Dean would do pretty much anything to see his kid brother smile. That includes dating the same person at the same time.

It takes a while for you three to get comfortable together, to arrange the new relationship into the existing ones but you manage. The brothers have shared enough beds in their life to have no problem with buying a king sized one for the three of you to sleep in whenever you feel like it.

Sam and you oftentimes run into each other at night still, sharing the quiet hours of the day without much words while the day is usually spent puttering around the bunker with Dean. Or on hunts with the both of them. You're pretty good with witnesses and charming the people to give you information in places where Dean's temper doesn't hold long enough.

You guys don't make a big deal of your relationship but soon the whole of America's hunters know that they shouldn't mess with Dean Winchester's witch either. Though whisper on the streets has that you're seen more with the younger Winchester. But that is no one's business but yours.

[harcourtholmesii]

Letters of Thanks

Fandoms: MCU / Avengers

Pairings: Slight / Referenced Thor X Bruce

Warnings: - References to Violence

Words: 2954

Please don’t expect this to be perfect writing. I tried, but as much as I do love the MCU, I am not great at writing their characters.

Enjoy!

Fan mail.

 Care packages.

 Letters of gratitude.

 The penthouse floors of Stark Tower were overrun with them. After the Battle for New York, everyone and their uncle seemed keen to say their piece and write something special to the Avengers.

 Since Bruce, Thor and Steve had nowhere else to go, the general populace had come to the correct conclusion that they could send their letters to Tony Stark’s letterbox. Since his address was public knowledge and since the defeat of the Chitauri, his home had been flooded with paper and cardboard boxes.

 Sorting through it all had been a hassle.

 With Thor off-world, the secret agents off on their respective missions and Rogers having left for his tour of America, it was left up to Tony and Bruce to sort through it all. It was a momentous task, but it was a welcome distraction.

 Over time, the piles continued to grow.

 Seven piles in total.

 Tony had, by far, the largest amount of letters written to him. They created an unsteady mountain range across his personal study, threatening to topple and fall if it weren’t for Tony’s effort to read them all.

 As quickly as they grew, they shrank. Tony read through his mail quickly and with fervour. Some nights, Bruce, Pepper and Happy had been unable to convince him to sleep. Some nights, he would spend researching the person behind the letter, and send care packages of his own to those who had written him.

 Unlike the majority of the other Avengers, Tony managed himself well. Even though most of it was kind or complimentary, there were those that expressed their disdain or their upset. When it got particularly bad, Bruce could see how it all weighed down on the man. He would wave away Pepper’s worry, and Bruce’s own concerns, with his usual snarky attitude, but it was obvious to all of them that he was most affected by those he couldn’t help.

 Steve’s pile was mostly complimentary. The younger authors tended to keep their letters short, with questions about him and where he had been. How was he alive after so long? Did he know about the moon landing? Had he seen Blade Runner? Most of the letters went from serious to curious in the span of a paragraph, but Steve had been no less flattered.

 Some letters were from older veterans or soldiers who cited him as their inspiration for joining the military. There were those that mentioned how their parents or grandparents had met him those seventy years ago, and how it was a piece of family history they loved to share.

 Steve handled them well for the most part, but he rarely went out of his way to answer them all. With his new career path at SHIELD, Steve only narrowed down his responses to those he felt were ‘genuine’. Specifically, those that asked less questions about what he did or did not know about the future, and those that seemed to take the Battle for New York as a serious, potential threat.

 Much like Tony, Thor’s pile was one of the larger ones, and it grew at a rapid pace from the start. A lot of the mail he received were care packages, cardboard boxes filled with everything from chocolates to alcohol, and other tokens of affection. Thor had been astounded when he first returned to Earth; his room, as large and royal as Tony could make it, housed a mountain of parcels and parchment awaiting his notice.

 He had spent overnight opening as many as possible and reading as much as he could. Some of the language and plenty of the references used caused him a great deal of confusion, and he would seek out Bruce for help. Too many of the letters, though very sweet and thankful, contained phone numbers or an Instagram link. Bruce had caught on quickly; a good portion of these were men, women and others of all types, were hopeless romantics, seeking the God of Thunder’s attention.

 No matter the intention or the person who had written the letter, Thor tasked himself with responding to each and every one. However, at the rate the pile was growing, and with Thor’s admittance that he wasn’t much a scholar, Bruce and Tony were roped into helping him in his quest. He wrote back, and had Tony show him how Facebook, Twitter and Instagram worked so he could publish quick responses online.

 Bruce helped him with those that didn’t leave behind online addresses or phone numbers, and wrote back what Thor asked him to write. Though, before each parchment was shipped off, Thor would be sure to sign it himself.

 The fourth and fifth piles were small by comparison; the both of them for Clint and Natasha. Without any idea where else to send them, the majority of these letters were quick and to the point. Short and simple. The writers would express their gratitude, perhaps explain their reasons for sending the letter, and then end the short paragraph.

 To Clint and Natasha, these were perfect. They couldn’t easily respond to them, as much as they wished to, so they kept them close instead. Natasha filed hers away in her room at Stark Tower, and Clint had sent his away. He didn’t mention where, just that they would be safe.

 It was fair that the master assassin wanted to keep it secret.

 Then, there was the general pile for all of the Avengers team. Most of these were sent by families and young children, from crayon sketches to some baked goods. The team, especially Thor and Clint were ecstatic with these ones in particular.

 They came together to read them, as difficult as that was. They would read out a single letter to the rest; they might have a slight chuckle and smiles would light up all their faces as they heard the praise. None of the mail addressed to the Avengers was negative, as it seemed any criticism was left to the specific ‘hero’.

 The smallest pile by far, belonged to Bruce Banner. Only a few letters had been delivered that were addressed specifically to him, and unlike the others, Bruce had avoided opening them. When Natasha asked him about his letters, he would say he would ‘get around to it’, and she would leave it alone for a while, disbelieving his statement.

 Thor asked him about it the most, always curious and always keen to hear what people had to say about the ‘second strongest’ Avenger. Bruce would just smile, already a little bashful under the other’s excitable gaze and warm touches.

 ‘I haven’t read them yet.’

 ‘You should!’ Large hands would take hold of Bruce’s own and he would be spun around so the other could look at him face-to-face. ‘There is much they have to say to you, and I am sure much of it is kind.’

 Bruce would just shrug his words away, very aware that the other would only try to see the best in him. He hadn’t been around when Hulk had first destroyed New York, and what the God had witnessed on the helicarrier had been next to nothing in the amount of damage the Hulk had caused. They had been lucky.

 Unlike the rest, Tony, though encouraging, didn’t pressure him to read the letters. He knew of Bruce’s fear, and though he found a way to bring it up subtly in conversation, he never demanded the meek scientist open his mail.

 Finally, they came up with an idea.

 ‘Big mean and green.’ Where Bruce had been hovering over the coffee pot, he clicked his jaw in annoyance, and turned his tired eyes over to the lounge. His teammates were all sat on the half-circle sofa, with a small pile of recognisable letters in the middle. He swallowed thickly around the nervous lump in his throat, and tried to laugh away his worry.

 ‘What is this? An intervention?’

 ‘Sort of.’ Clint said, offering him a polite smile. It seemed Clint and Steve, in particular, were both nervous about this. Then why participate?

 ‘We just wanna help try and release some tension here.’ Tony stated, gesturing to the pile. ‘It is no surprise to us, Bruce, you can’t stand to look at this. But you don’t have the heart to throw it all away.’

 Bruce’s eyes fell to the coffee he now nursed in his hands.

 ‘We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’ Steve chimed in. ‘But… Well, we don’t want you to run yourself into the ground because you’re scared of what people have to say.’

 ‘I’m not scared. I just know what I would see, and I do not need more confirmation that I am a monster.’

 ‘No!’ Thor’s voice bellowed, and he was standing in an instant. He was by Bruce’s side in a mere moment and gently nudging him (as gentle as Thor could manage) towards the lounge. ‘You do not understand, Banner! We believe that these are all letters of gratitude towards you, and rather than you think the worst, we want to disprove your claim.’

 ‘Yes… Well…’ Bruce’s eyes landed on the pile in front of him. He didn’t find SHIELD as frightening as he had expected when he had first met Natasha. He had not been as overcome with fear when he had first seen the Chitauri. But this small, seemingly trivial pile of notes… The words of an everyday person that he had hurt scared him more than anything.

 ‘If you don’t mind it, we came up with a simple system. Nothing too bad, we hope, but just so we might ease your fears a little.’ Tony said, reaching and digging around in the pile for a moment.

 After a bit of shuffling about, he pulled out a small, pastel pink card, showing it to Bruce.

 ‘We just want you to know that you don’t have to be worried about this. We came up with this plan-’

 ‘Tony came up with a plan.’ Natasha interrupted.

 ‘- That we will each read out one letter to you. One random letter. And we’ll all be here in case you want to take a break or if you need to just…’

 ‘Talk.’ Steve finished.

 And just like that, Clint, Steve, Natasha and Thor reached into the pile.

 Clint pulled one, exceptionally thick, envelope from the top; perfectly pristine, well-kept, with ‘Bruce Banner’ written in fine, royal blue cursive.

 Natasha dug her hand deep into the pile until she pulled her hand away with a large, but thin, green folder. On the front, it read Bruce’s name in a collage of cut-out, magazine letters.

 Steve removed a small parcel from the pile, wrapped in dirty brown paper with a green ribbon around it. There was the sound of something gently rattling against the inside as Steve moved.

 Thor pulled one letter from the pile which had a large, child’s drawing on the back. Evidently, it was of a large, green figure holding what looked like a yellow car in his hands and roaring. Bruce did not look too keen.

 It was Clint that opened his letter first and had begun to read.

 “Dear Doctor Banner,

 You may not recall me well, but my name is Lucille Davidson. We studied together for a period in college, and I would like to consider us friends, or at the very least, acquaintances.

 You’re work in nuclear physics is astounding, and I have, for years now, have wanted to address your papers and reports of your studies.  I have never had the chance, as I had thought you dead after your disappearance.

 Imagine my surprise and delight when I saw you on the news. Well, not you exactly, but to then have it confirmed to be you in the interview following the events, I was not only relieved but I was over the moon. Hearing you would be staying with Mister Stark for the time being, I wrote to you immediately, and I do hope this has found its way.

 I wanted to just say how I am not only inspired by your work, but I wish that we could sit together for coffee and go over our theories on anti-electron collisions…”

 By this point, Clint started to look a little lost. He raised his eyes from the paper, with an apologetic expression and a half smile.

 ‘Sorry, but I can’t understand this kind of science jargon. I am not an expert on thermonuclear… anything… Whatever this person is attempting to say, it seems…’ He turned the paper over, and glanced at the other papers. ‘Yeah… They appear to have sent you a full thesis on whatever this is…’

 He passed it across to Bruce, who seemed shocked still. The coffee cup was retrieved from his hands by Tony, in case he should drop it, and placed on the coffee table. Bruce took the papers with shaking hands and read over that first part again and again, almost in disbelief. The worry in his face had lessened slightly, as he placed the essay down and looked up when Steve cleared his throat.

 ‘There isn’t, uh… There’s only a small card here, apart from the parcel. And it reads ‘to Bruce Banner and to Hulk. Thank you!” He passed the card and parcel over, so Bruce could open it.

 He did so slowly, hesitantly, with the movements of a man disarming a bomb. Once the ribbon was undone and the tape removed, the brown paper fell apart in his hands, revealing a plastic container. Through the clear plastic there was a small pile of about eight cookies, all of them, though a little smudged, decorated to look like the Hulk’s face.

 There was a chortle from Tony, and a guffaw from Thor as the God landed a hard smack to Bruce’s back. It hurt, but Bruce just smiled down at the strange but lovely gift. There was no return address or signature, which seemed a little disappointing.

 “To Mister Banner.” Tony started, a sly, cattish grin on his face. Bruce could already feel his own face going red. He raised his hands to his face in a terrible attempt to hide his embarrassment as Tony continued to read with some level of theatrical exaggeration.

 “I will admit, I’m a little embarrassed to write this, but I just needed to get my feelings down onto paper. I was working during the Battle for New York and we met very briefly. Well, you were Hulk at the time, but still… You saved my life. I was about to be killed by one of those weird, alien creatures when you crushed them beneath your fists. And I couldn’t help but salivate…” There was a muttered, embarrassed groan from Bruce as he snatched the letter out of Tony’s hand. The billionaire and the others shared a laugh as Bruce continued to read the letter.

 Indeed, it was just a little scandalous, and as flattering as it was… He quietly tucked it away in his pants pocket, not willing to discuss it at this time. That was fair, and none of the other’s held that against him.

 Natasha opened her own folder, her face brighter than Bruce had ever seen it. She showed it off like she was doing a presentation, opening the folder wide and reading it out. There were only two pages to it, the first with an image of a small building with a mural on one of its walls.

 The mural showcased the Hulk with his hands raised as if holding up the roof of the building. Beneath him, as if a shadow that stood before him, was a silhouette of Bruce doing the same pose. Beneath it, written in bright lettering with all kinds of little pictures, was the message:

 ‘To Doctor Banner and the Hulk, the heroes that saved our daycare and the children therein.’ The second page was a collage of parents and staff thanking him and the Hulk alike, with little signatures and drawings from the children.

 Natasha passed it over to him, and Bruce clutched it close, feeling himself near brought to tears.

 Thor didn’t read out the letter he had plucked out of the pile, but passed it to Bruce all the same. It was difficult to read, as it was a scribble of a child’s writing. Only the address was clearly stamped out, presumably by a parent.

 ‘Thank you Mister Hulk. You saved mommy and daddy from the monsters. I want to be a hero like you when I’m grown up. Could you teach me to be strong like you? From Markus’

 Turning the paper over to look over the image again, Bruce could now make out the scratchy faces of two people in the yellow car. At first, he thought they were screaming, but when he was able to make out the black line of a speech bubble amongst the dark blue crayon, he could read they were yelling ‘YAY!’

 ‘How cute.’ Natasha hummed.

 ‘That ought to go onto the fridge.’ Tony agreed.

 Bruce shifted in his seat, wiping beneath his glasses with his sleeve. A hand on his shoulder, warm and comforting, brought his eyes up to look at the Thor.

 ‘Would Banner like some time alone? To read and look through his gifts?’

 Despite what he had read, Bruce did not ask them to leave. In fact, he snuggled deeper into the lounge as he plucked one letter from the pile. The others didn’t mind being asked to stay. In fact, to them, it was a relief to see the doctor express anything other than worry or discomfort, and a joy to watch his face break into a smile.

[nastyatticman]

1, 11, 13, 15, 16, and 17 for the oc thing!

1. What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about?

Sidney - That at any moment he’s broken some law and wouldn’t know it until he got arrested for it. Except for being a serial killer, he’s a tax paying law abiding citizen. His public persona is so inoffensive, and he’s somewhat conventionally attractive (and constantly trying to fit in or please people), so he could probably get away with some minor crimes. This fear comes from a childhood full of getting in trouble for minor offenses, things that weren’t his fault, or things he was never told were wrong by his toxic parents. And, perhaps, some subconscious guilt around all the actual crimes he commits.

Chance - That he’ll randomly throw out his phone, wallet, or other important items. It’s because he gets bad intrusive thoughts sometimes, and even after he learned that those are okay and don’t reflect his inner character and desires, he still worries about dropping his stuff. Some of his intrusive thoughts are related to harming himself or others, which he knows he won’t do, but can he be so sure that he won’t throw his phone out of the bus and into oncoming traffic when all the windows are open?!

11. Does your oc have any interests/hobbies that they hide from everyone? Why do they hide these interests?

Sidney - Musical theatre, drawing furries, collecting souvenirs from his family “vacations”. He’s very concerned with his public image and he’s embarrassed he feels so strongly about shows like Cats! and High School Musical even though they don’t have a good plot etc etc. He’s afraid if people hear the word “furry” they’ll assume he’s some kind of sex freak. Maybe he is, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from him doodling little bunnies and warrior cats in the margins of his notebooks. And last, you may actually see some of the grim tokens he takes to remember his exploits. His family’s pretty well off so no one bats an eye at him coming back from winter break with a new jacket, much less a keychain or something small. It’s just that kidnapping and killing is generally discouraged, so only he knows how he really got them.

Chance - He doesn’t have too much shame when it comes to his hobbies etc - he either uses his wacky hobbies to get attention or weed out the people who judge him for things. However he probably has a big interest in stuff like selfshipping and x reader fanfics, but he doesn’t like to share that unless he can spin it as something wild and funny he does. Otherwise people tend to see this nerdy little guy and think, “oh, that’s kind of sad, he can’t meet anyone in real life”. Sometimes they say that to his face.

13. What’s your oc’s dream home like?

Sidney - Somewhere remote, with a bit of a cottagecore vibe. He loves the cabin his family visits twice a year, and how it’s still close to a small town with everything he needs. Prefers an area without the noise and traffic of the modern world. ...He still wants perfect WiFi though.

Chance - Somewhere big and spacious. Closer to the city, with everything he needs in walking distance. Ideally he wants to live in a nice house with a vegetable garden and plenty of space for him & his future partners to pursue their passions. He’s a bit of an introvert at times, even when it comes to his current roommates, so he doesn’t mind if things are very spaced out. Like, everyone having their own room and bed to make their own, and they can take turns sleeping with each other or something.

15. What’s your oc’s morning routine like?

Sidney - He gets up bright and early, takes a shower and does a little skincare. Then eats a healthy breakfast and starts his day. A real morning person.

Chance - Not a morning person at all. Probably clicks snooze on his alarm and spends a few minutes dicking around on his phone before he absolutely has to get up and get ready for the day. Probably grabs a quick breakfast or just buys something when he gets to school or wherever he’s going.

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

Sidney - He sleeps kind of early, on a somewhat strict schedule. A little skincare, dental care(?), getting into comfy pajamas.

Chance - Night owl. Typically he washes off any makeup or blood on his face, brushes & flosses, and showers. Gets cozy in bed with at least one extra blanket. Spends a maybe concerning amount of time on the phone before finally sleeping lol.

17. If your oc had a social media page, what would it be like? What would they post about? How much personal information would they feel comfortable posting on it? How often would they update it?

Sidney - He has a couple! Most of them are very professional or social, in a just in case people Google him way. Like, a LinkedIn, Facebook, and an Instagram with highly curated and inoffensive pictures of him. Mostly pictures of him during milestones like his high school graduation. Doesn’t use them often but you’ll see people comment wishing him a happy birthday. He’s too shy to post much about his interests there though, even the stuff that doesn’t involve murder. Has smaller accounts on other websites where he posts/interacts with darker content anonymously. Like a dark aesthetic tumblr with pictures of forests n caves n shit. On the flip side he probably has a Pinterest, with 0 personal info abt him but several boards dedicated to cute stuff and drawings reference, that paints a picture of who he is.

Chance - He is, begrudgingly, on Facebook to keep up with boomer family members. He’s a paranoid bitch (and rightfully so), so he’s mostly on Tumblr since their data tracking and algorithm is run by a hamster on a wheel. Chance is much more personal there but also impersonal - no pictures of his face or specifics on his location, but he feels free to talk abt his kinks and shit. He’d have an edgy nsfw blog but his main blog is for fandoms & true crime. (Well, “true” in universe. He uses it to keep track of rumors about killings and potential slasher sightings.)

[piccolina-mina]

I cannot speak for anyone else, and I'm not trying to. I can only speak for myself as an observer and a friend. And sometimes I feel really bad for bisexual fans, especially the bisexual men who are out, open, or quietly observing, and still active in the RNM fandom.

There used to be many bisexual men who shared their thoughts, but a few I remember left fandom. There are many women, but it still comes with a pressure and expectation to only appreciate specific parts of the series or face erasure if they don't comply.

It must be gratifying to have a strong bisexual character let alone a male character like Michael. You don't see it often at all. Bi characters are rare and bi men are like unicorns on TV, and how they are represented can vary. But one thing that has been consistent and obvious is that Michael is a character Carina has invested in a lot.

A lot of effort and care goes into how he's portrayed as a bisexual man. She seems very in tune and careful with how she wants to depict that, for better and worse, and sometimes at the expense of other aspects of the show that require sensitivity, awareness, and care too.

And I have seen how important that is to many bisexual fans but particularly bi men. But I can only imagine how difficult it has to be when you're seeing your representation onscreen -- you're seeing yourself reflected -- and you constantly see it regarded as "bad bi rep" usually over trivial things.

Michael is confident, out, unapologetic. He has an interesting story of presumably when he realized he was bisexual. He has those moments of insecurity, but he's consistent. And he's never treated as less than or not "manly" or anything like that by the majority of the characters -- the important characters.

His Bisexuality is never treated like a character flaw by the others.

His friends, acquaintances, siblings, and love interests don't look down on him for being bisexual. It's not the sole thing that drives his arc, or the only reason he's "relevant." He's a multi-dimensional character who happens to be bisexual instead of "the token bisexual character."

It seems pretty damn awesome.

But sometimes I imagine it has to be hard to see all of these factors and then see the frequent takes that he's "poor bi rep."

And it has to be invalidating that only one of his relationships matters and the other one is constantly torn apart.

Isn't that part of the "pick a side" frustration bisexuals face way too often? Why unwittingly perpetuate it so much?

Isn't the whole idea supposed to be that both of these relationships are valid and meaningful in different ways, and that's OK?

On the show you have Alex and Maria, and neither of them make Michael feel like crap because he's bisexual. Alex doesn't treat him like he's less queer for dating and sleeping with women. He doesn't shame him (something that has been known to happen with some popular queer ships like Calzona on Grey's Anatomy, for example) for being bi.

Any of the issues they have, have absolutely nothing to do with Michael's sexuality. That has to be refreshing.

And Maria doesn't judge Michael for being bisexual either. All fandoms as a whole, in general, tend to fetishize and/or love mlm ships, but as we know, irl wlw are fetishized and revered more, usually by straight men who think a woman's bisexuality is for their sexual pleasure, gratification or chance to have a threesome.

In real life, it's obviously difficult for bi men dating etc. For every Maria, there's a woman who only thinks she's a "beard" or pitstop until her bi lover is gay, or feels insecure that she can't give him something someone else can, or a plethora of other misconceptions and ignorance.

But Maria isn't like that. None of the drama surrounding her relationship with Michael had anything to do with him being bisexual. It was never about the parts of who he slept with, but her relationship with who he slept with.

And to hit home that Michael being bisexual didn't make him less desirable or attractive to her, they kissed after the truth came out. And they both enjoyed it.

People hate that and tear it apart, but I imagine that was also something important to show.

And then, fandom, fandom from all walks of life and different genders and sexualities find this bisexual character attractive and desirable.

It has to be messed up as a bi male fan to see part of the fandom, a great deal of them straight women be shamed or ridiculed or referred to as homophobic for liking Michael and Maria.

It has to be messed up for bi female fans to have their sexuality completely invalidated because they like miluca. To be called homophobic or biphobia despite being bi themselves for liking Miluca.

Or to have their love of this ship and this representation that is important to them reduced to them just wanting to self-insert with Michael (I mean, hey, what if it's about self-inserting with Maria? Because that's what a hell of a lot of queer miluca fans are thinking about).

Or to have them criticized for it if that's the case, but it's widely accepted that bisexual and straight fans can thirst over the two men just fine.

What is wrong about thirsting after one or both parties of miluca in equal measure as one would Malex? And doing it with them as a couple rather than individually? Why is that only an option with them separate but not with them together as it is with Malex?

Like, a (so far) straight female character is criticized for having feelings for this bisexual man and straight female fans are criticized for liking miluca, or hell, self-inserting with miluca, and finding this male character, who happens to be bisexual, attractive and sexy.

Bi female fans are criticized for liking miluca or self-inserting either way with Maria and Michael. Their sexuality is always questioned for enjoying this ship as if they're somehow less queer for enjoying it.

No one ever considers that they're enjoying the hell out of thirsting over Maria via this relationship. It IS Maria after all.

Michael is hot. Maria is stunning. Only one of these relationships is giving queer miluca fans Maria, right? Why is enjoying that via their relationship not an acceptable option? For bi fans of any gender? For straight fans?

To Maria, to the fans of the miluca ship, Michael's bisexuality doesn't matter or make him less than, or less attractive. He's accepted and cared about and desired.

And some people read that as latching on to a straight presenting ship and thus being inherently homophobic and biphobic, instead of seeing, and appreciating, and enjoying that there are no qualms, no judgment, no prejudice, no second guessing about shipping a presumably straight woman with a bisexual man.

His sexuality never hinders him from being shipped with anyone. It never stops him from being desired. It doesn't stop fans from enjoying and self-inserting either. He didn't stop being viable when it was revealed that he was bisexual.

And if people can see that and respond that way to a character they love, then maybe it breaks the stigma about dating, falling in love with or sleeping with bisexual men. Maybe people can apply that to real life too.

And that's the power of representation in media, and how influential it can be. That's something special and important too.

It's not something that happens easily, and like with any disenfranchised group, experiences are always different. It's not always the same for bi men versus bi women. Intersectionality comes into play. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that just a basic understand of people and their experiences.

Ironically, both experiences by both male and female bi fans are being invalidated and/or erased here often when it comes to this, which is very unfortunate and sad to see.

I mean, I can't shake the concept of someone's experience battling being rejected or invalidated, and then watching something where someone like you isn't being rejected or invalidated for their sexuality, and many of the viewers and fans aren't rejecting or invalidating this character's sexuality ... but then seeing some of those fans are rejected and invalidated for enjoying one or both of this characters' relationships. 🤔

Their acceptance, not tolerance, their acceptance of bisexuality is rejected and criticized. It doesn't make sense.

And yeah, it's a love triangle. But it's a love triangle between a bi man, a gay man, and a woman. Something you do not see often at all. And sexuality isn't the root of the tension or conflict. Nowhere. Not once.

It's played out like any other love triangle. It's normalized because the whole point is that bisexual people being attracted to more then one gender is normal.

They're subjected to the same things as everyone else, including love to hate love triangles.

I don't know. This isn't even in response to anything specific, it's just, sometimes, I really sympathize for the bisexual fans and friends, and I really feel bad for the bi men in the RNM fandom who thoroughly enjoy having this representation and enjoy both relationships and the depiction of what it's like having feelings for two different people for different reasons who then see parts of that which they appreciate and make them feel seen always ripped apart so often.

Man, it must feel like A LOT sometimes.

But again, I'm not presuming to know how anyone feels, and I certainly can't speak for them, but I would be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind on occasion.

[gascon-en-exil]

FE16 Golden Deer Liveblogging

Chapters 6-10. Took a little longer this time - so many supports - but I still don’t have all that much to say actually. I think?

A trio of new paralogues with Deer characters, with two of them taking place on the same new map. The drawbridge gimmick reminds me of Archanea, but it’s not utilized much even for Ignatz and Raphael’s paralogue which requires you to help some merchants reach an escape spot. Lorenz’s is less remarkable, with just an early appearance by minor antagonist Acheron, but...

Thyrsus, the staff obtained from that paralogue, is gloriously broken. It immediately fixed the issues I’d had with Lysithea’s spell range and then some, turning her into even more of a monster. Her biggest problem now is how quickly she masters classes thanks to her personal skill, to the point where a few times she’s had to sit in a mastered class until either her level or her magic ranks caught up. I haven’t touched her budding sword talent, as I can safely assume it’s not worth it.

Hilda’s paralogue was more remarkable for what it reveals about Cyril’s complicated feelings for Almyra than anything to do with Hilda or House Goneril. As with Edelgard’s paralogue Holst remains unseen due to sudden illness - the guy just can’t catch a break.

Come Chapter 9 I realized I had no one in mind for dancer. Claude and Hilda have by far the highest CHA but are both destined for flying classes. When you think about it tactically dancer is best suited toward magic users who won’t be getting a mount - so, female ones. So much for all the praise over male dancers when they seem to be rarely if ever optimal for the role. I went with Marianne, wildly OOC and all.

Ignatz continues to be kind of weird, jumping between thief and swordmaster and soon enough dark bishop. He might end up a decent mortal savant after all. Raphael continues to be Dedue with a less reliable personal skill and no boyfriend.

Story/Character observations

Appropriately Claude is at the center of the biggest differences between this route and the other two, but my confidence in the quality of his scheming has gone down a bit. At this point he’s shared just enough with Byleth - his fascination with Relics, his suspicions about a church cover-up - but is still keeping his overall goals vague, and the result is that he comes off as a manipulative asshole who’s transparently using the professor for all their special qualities. Granted I’m enjoying that immensely, because there’s never been a lead character in FE quite like Claude before and I don’t care about Byleth’s nonexistent feelings in the slightest, but he can be terribly unsubtle. The worst is when he forces you via looping dialogue tree to have Byleth hand over their father’s diary so he can try to figure out what’s going on. And he the nerve in his support with Flayn to say he doesn’t take his secrets by force!

All in all though, Claude’s boundless capacity for prying is great for worldbuilding, something the Eagles and the Lions routes can be rather thin on by comparison, or rather too concentrated in specific areas.

I remember how they were introduced in pre-release, but in hindsight I don’t know why they tried to make it seem as though Lorenz was the second in command of the Golden Deer when it’s very clearly Hilda, who has the same speaking parts as Hubert and Dedue at relevant moments. I suppose technically Lorenz is a second in command in Alliance politics, albeit one who goes on to form a faction opposed to Claude. Neither of them are loyal enough not to jump ship to another house if sufficiently motivated, though.

Even after viewing his paralogue I’m still not feeling Raphael. He doesn’t sound like he’s deliberately ignoring the cause of his parents’ deaths to spare him and his family further retribution so much as he doesn’t think it’s important. He’s an alright character, just not a complex one. It doesn’t help either that I coincidentally unlocked his B support with Lorenz right after. Their support line doesn’t allude to the actions of the Gloucesters in the slightest, instead being yet another one about eating. *yawns*

So many of Lysithea’s early supports are her being appallingly rude for barely justified reasons. I like that this is never played off as cutesy and childlike, but it looks like in most of the later conversations this gets handwaved with her dark backstory. Too bad I probably won’t get the full story if it’s contained in the paralogue she shares with, er, Ferdinand?

The Claude/Ignatz supports are dumb and a good demonstration of how much Claude deserves the token heterosexual lord label so, so much more than Dimitri does. The guy just gets nothing to work with. In these two conversations Ignatz is fascinated with imagining what the goddess looks like (so..does that mural of her not exist in-universe?), while Claude is vaguely agnostic and suggests that Ignatz would like to sleep with the goddess. These topics - Claude’s views on religion, Ignatz’s artistic sensibilities and possible desire to fuck a religious figure - are so much better explored elsewhere, and just like with his supports with his other male housemates Claude has absolutely no chemistry here. Meanwhile he’s telling Flayn where she can find erotica and hitting it off on more normal terms with every other woman in reach.

Oh, and did I mention there is zero context for Claude dancing with Byleth at the ball? Nothing made of it before or after, and Claude doesn’t get a scene with Byleth before the tower either. This means that only Dimitri gets this extra scene, for one of the very few bits of Claumitri ship tease and for his backstory with Edelgard which the straight male side of this fandom seems determined to go Freudian with. 

Shamir’s supports with Deer characters include multiple instances of her throwing daggers at bugs. Weird, but now I get why one of her lost items is a sketch of a centipede.

[unfolded73]

We’ll Get Better (1/1) - starmora ff

Summary: Gamora struggles to start a physical relationship with Peter.

Yeah, hi, I wrote in a new fandom. Guardians of the Galaxy, Peter Quill x Gamora, rated M, ~ 5300 words. This fic references Gamora’s past abuse, but not any specifics.

This fic as as slow burn as you can get in a one-shot, I guess. Set shortly after GotG Vol. 2. No mention of the events of Infinity War.

(AO3 Link)

___

She struggles with being touched. Gamora doesn’t want to admit her failings, but really, that’s what it comes down to. The touch of a person’s hand on her skin, no matter how funny and kind and (ugh) sweet that person might be, triggers a fight or flight response. After so many years of torture, so many years when even a supposedly fatherly touch could turn cruel at a moment’s notice, her body is hardwired to react badly when someone touches her.

Gamora is brooding on this fact when she feels a tug at the bottom of her pants and the slightly sharp prickle of Groot crawling up her leg. When he’s high enough, he points to her pocket.

“I am Groot?”

“I don’t have any more candy, Groot; I’m sorry.”

“I am Groot,” he mutters as he hops back to the floor, glaring at her.

“Well, you ate it all, so that’s your fault,” she says in response to his snark.

The problem she has with touching doesn’t apply to Groot. He’s a tree, and the sensation of his roots clambering up her clothes so that he can perch on her shoulder is familiar and if anything, soothing.

It’s not that she hasn’t allowed Peter to touch her; she has. She’s let him pull her into a dance, one of his warm hands in hers and the other chastely resting on her hip. She even went so far as to put her arm around him in comfort after Yondu died, the tense bunch of his muscles firm under her palm.

(She thinks about those moments more than she wants to admit.)

Now their “unspoken thing” is slightly less unspoken but still unacted upon, and she’s aware of Peter searching for openings — for chinks in her armor. Eating a meal together on the Milano is an excuse for him to let his fingers graze hers as he passes a dish. A brief goodnight, and he trails his hand along her waist as he squeezes past her in the corridor. They are welcome bits of contact, and yet they aren’t. She wants him to touch her, but every time he does, she feels it jangling along her nerves like an ear-piercing scrape of metal on metal.

Day after day passes, and it feels like electrical potential is building between them, like she’s one of those damned Anulax batteries Rocket felt compelled to steal, and maybe if the electricity is discharged there will be a spark, or maybe she’ll just fucking explode. Probably the latter.

When Peter suggests they spend a few days on a nearby leisure planet after they’ve foiled a plot by space pirates to hijack the transport vessel of an Elani princess, which was after they prevented a global pandemic by blowing up a haven of bioterrorists on Maarin III, which was after the incident with Peter’s father Ego, Gamora is just exhausted enough to say yes without putting up even a token argument. She doesn’t sleep as many hours a day as the others, but even Gamora is fantasizing about a soft bed and the oblivion of sleep by the time the Milano docks and they’ve found rooms at a hotel. Which is why when a hotel room key is pressed into her palm by the conciliatory front desk attendant, she pays no attention to where anyone else is going, she just drags herself to the room number appearing in little winking, electronic numbers on her key. It’s possible that she’s asleep before her head even hits the incredibly soft pillow.

It’s about three hours later when Gamora blinks her eyes open, struggling in the darkened room to remember where she is. The sound of snoring makes her sit up and look over toward the direction of the noise.

“Peter.”

The snoring continues unabated.

She reaches over and punches him in the arm. “Peter.”

He startles awake, blinking slowly. “Huh? Gamora, wha—?”

“What are you doing in my room?”

“It was either this or share with Drax and Mantis, and you know how Drax talks in his sleep.” He sits up and looks at the wide expanse of bed between them. “It’s a big bed, and you were so dead to the world, I had to check to see if you were still breathing. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Just because I don’t wheeze like a Vrelnexian boar doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

He frowns like he is struggling to follow her words. “I know, I was just… wait, are you saying I snore?”

“Is that what you were doing? Because it sounded like—”

“Okay, okay. Sorry if I woke you up.” He looks contrite, with a line from the pillowcase pressed into his cheek and his hair sticking up on one side. Gamora smiles in spite of herself.

“It’s okay; I think I’ve slept enough,” she says. “But you haven’t.” She starts to stand up. “Why don’t I—”

Peter grabs her hand, and Gamora flinches. “No, stay. Please? Keep me company.”

She extracts her hand from his. “And what am I supposed to do while you sleep?”

He flops back on his pillow with a grin, letting his eyes fall closed. “I happen to know I’m adorable while I sleep; you won’t be able to take your eyes off me.”

Gamora snorts a quick breath out through her nose. “Right.”

Peter’s eyes slowly open, and he’s watching her carefully like he’s trying to read her mood. He sighs. “If you wanna be alone—”

“No, it’s fine.” And it is fine, even though she’s feeling a little bit out of sorts, thrown by this strange intimacy of sharing a bed while not actually sharing a bed in the euphemistic sense. She rolls her eyes at her own hangups. After all, both of them are still completely clothed. Peter was likely as exhausted as she was, just looking for a quiet place to rest. “I’m glad you’re here,” she blurts.

His face goes on a journey, first blooming with a cocky smile and then shifting into something softer and sweeter. “I’m always glad to be with you, ‘Mora.”

The room is terribly quiet; even the hum of the air conditioner almost undetectable to her ears. Her hand rests between the two of them on the bed, and Peter reaches over and runs the pad of his index finger across the top of her hand, the pink of his skin against the green hue of hers. She focuses on breathing and on staring at the contrast of their skin tones and on not flinching.

Perhaps she isn’t so successful at the not-flinching, because he draws his hand back and frowns.

“Sorry” Peter says.

“It’s not you. I’m not…” Gamora reaches up and smooths her hair down, trying to cover a slight tremble in her hands. “I’m not good with physical interaction. With anyone.”

“Seemed pretty good at it the first time we met, when you kicked me in the face,” he says with a smile.

She laughs. “That kind of physical interaction, I’m good at. It’s what I was built for. The rest of it… it makes my skin crawl most of the time.”

“Jeez. Sorry.” She can immediately see the hurt in his eyes at the idea that he’s been causing her discomfort and she hasn’t said anything. “You should have told me before, I wouldn’t’ve—”

“I didn’t tell you because I… I want to get over it. I want to be able to…”

“To what?” he asks after a short pause, a little bit too eagerly.

Gamora smirks. “You know what.”

“I mean, I hope, but I don’t know.”

She meets his eyes. He has kind eyes. Even when she thought he was a complete ass, she’s always thought he has very kind eyes.

“You’d be better off with someone else. Someone less difficult.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Peter says, and the sincerity in his voice flattens her.

Gamora leans over him, resting her hand gently on his cheek, the stubble of his beard prickling against her palm. They stare at each other.

“You’re touching me,” Peter finally says, his voice a little raspier. The sound of it makes her feel… it makes her feel something she’s afraid to name.

“Yes.”

“Is it bothering you?”

“Not just now.”

“Good.” She sees his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“You’re going to get frustrated with me. You’re going to want more than I can give,” she whispers.

He just shakes his head fondly, as if she’s ridiculous for even thinking such a thing.

“You’re so different from when we first met,” she says.

His eyebrows rise and fall quickly. “Kind of a lot has happened since then.”

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and she wants to drop it away. She wants to pull him closer. She doesn’t know what to do, and it makes her feel like jumping up and punching the wall. It makes her want to run away as fast and as far as she can.

“Do you wanna sleep a little longer, maybe?” Peter asks.

It breaks the tension, and Gamora smiles, finally removing her hand from his face. “I know you do.”

“Will you lie here with me?” His voice is soft and vulnerable and makes it feel like her heart is swelling inside her ribcage.

“Yeah.” She lies back on her pillow, on her side so that she’s facing him. Peter mirrors her, and their knees bump together as they curl up. Gamora watches him carefully, uncertain what the rules are for whatever they’re becoming.

Peter seems to read her mind. “We can go at whatever pace you need to. And if I ever do anything or say anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, please tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And just so you know, anytime you wanna touch me, you should totally go for it.”

Gamora rolls her eyes. “No pressure then.”

He winces. “No, I don’t mean I’m, like, starving for it or anything.” She just raises a skeptical eyebrow at that. “Okay, maybe I’m a little starving for it, but it’s not like I can’t wait. I can wait, I promise.”

Blowing out a breath, Gamora closes her eyes. “Go to sleep, Peter.”

He stifles a groan. “Sorry I’m so bad at this.”

She opens her eyes again. “You don’t need to apologize. We’re both pretty bad at this, I suppose.”

“We’ll get better at it, though,” Peter mumbles, already starting to drift off.

Gamora tucks her hand underneath her face and watches as he falls asleep.

He is pretty adorable when he sleeps, she thinks to herself.

~*~

The drinks Drax keeps putting in front of her are strong, Gamora thinks as she squints her eyes and tries to make the two copies of Rocket she’s seeing coalesce into one. They aren’t paying for anything; a Xandarian duke recognized them, and announced loudly, “Your money’s no good here, Guardians of Xandar! Anything they want, it’s on me!”

She is sitting close to Peter in the booth, shoulders and hips pressed together. It’s nice, she thinks, the warmth of him all along her side. Why did she ever think touching him was bad? Touching him is fantastic.

He’s got his arm slung along the back of the booth behind her, and suddenly that’s all she can think about, his arm. His strong, well-muscled arm, and what it would feel like if he wrapped it around her.

Peter is laughing at something Mantis said, but between that conversation on one side of her and whatever Rocket and Drax are arguing about on the other side of her, Gamora can’t seem to make any of the words swirling around make sense. Groot runs around on top of the table, using his vine-like arms to vault from the table to Rocket’s shoulder to the top of Drax’s head, then back to the table. Gamora just manages to pick her drink up before Groot barrels into it. She takes another sip, the sweet and sour flavor filling her mouth, and shifts her hand under the table from resting on her own thigh to resting on Peter’s.

His attention shifts immediately, and he swings his head around toward her. His lips look soft, she thinks, and she wonders what they would feel like on her skin.

“Hey there,” he says with a lazy smile.

“Hey.” Her voice sounds weird to her ears. Low and raspy.

She wants him to kiss her.

It’s ridiculous that they haven’t kissed yet, she muses. They’ve both admitted they have feelings for each other. Well, sort of. Not in so many words, but still. The information is out there. It’s shared information. Everyone else just assumes they’re a couple. Rocket has taken to calling Peter her “boyfriend” in that sly, snarky way of his, and Gamora doesn’t bother to dignify those comments with a response. Or maybe she doesn’t deny it because it’s basically true.

Or it would be true if she let him kiss her.

“Let’s go back to the hotel room,” she says to him.

Peter arches an eyebrow. “Are you tired?”

She lets her eyes drift down to his lips. “No.”

His other eyebrow joins the first one, his eyes wide. “Oh.”

Gamora turns and shoves Drax’s shoulder, prodding him to let her out of the booth. As she stands (and attempts to keep from tipping over to one side; those drinks were strong), Drax seems to take notice of the fact that she and Peter are leaving together.

“Are you two going to have sexual intercourse?” Drax asks.

“No! What? No!” Peter says quickly, even as his eyes drift to Gamora with a questioning glance.

“We’re just tired,” Gamora says evenly. “Don’t get into too much trouble tonight.”

“I plan to drink more,” Drax says. “And then find someone to fight.”

“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do,” Gamora says.

“Watch out for him, will ya?” Peter asks Rocket.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rocket responds in his perpetually annoyed tone of voice.

Gamora leads the way toward their hotel, and she can feel Peter on her heels like she’s developed a sixth sense for his precise presence in three-dimensional space. He catches up to her side after they go through the revolving doors, boots loud on the marble floor of the lobby. She can feel him eyeing her, and her cheeks heat up in reaction.

They don’t speak until they’re inside their hotel room, the bed they innocently slept in the night before looming.

“So,” Peter says slowly, drawing out the word. “What did you want to—”

“Kiss me.”

He gulps. Actually literally gulps. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Mora. Are you—”

She pounces then, their mouths colliding a little bit painfully in a kiss that at first is as much teeth as lips. Then it settles into something softer, and she feels a tug on her bottom lip as Peter nips at her, his hands settling on her hips.

Her head is foggy with the alcohol, dulling her senses enough that she can relax and let this happen. Kissing him is nice. She likes the way his mouth tastes. She likes the warm, wet slipperiness of it, likes the sensation of his tongue in her mouth. Gamora grips his biceps and lets herself be carried along by the wave of feeling.

When they finally separate, Peter rests his forehead against hers, his breath panting out over her lips.

“Wow,” he whispers.

“Yeah.” She feels desire for him almost like a weight in her abdomen, and she reaches for his belt as she kisses him again.

“Woah, Gamora, hang on,” he says against her lips, taking a step back and making her stumble. “What exactly are we doing?”

She smirks. “I would think of all people, I wouldn’t need to explain it to you.”

“Yeah, but… I thought you needed to go slow.”

“Not right now, I don’t.” She takes a step toward him, resting her hands on his chest.

Peter’s eyes sharpen. “Because you’re drunk.”

“Which is why I can finally let go without being hung up on all my…” She steps back again and gestures helplessly, searching for the words.

“Your years and years of trauma and abuse?” he supplies.

“Yes.”

“Okay, but do you see how that puts me in an impossible position? How do I know that you really want to do this?” His voice is plaintive. “What if I do something that triggers you? I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

She bristles at the rejection and at the infantilizing endearment. Underneath that, she just feels terror. Terror that this is never going to work, and that Peter is going to tire of her.  “I can take care of myself,” she spits. “I don’t need to you coddle me.”

“I know you don’t.” He reaches for her arm, and she shakes his hand off. “Gamora, I… I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I just… I want us to be sober, for one thing.”

“And what if I can’t do that?” She feels like crying, which makes her even more furious — with herself, with him, with this whole stupid situation. They’re a man and a woman who want each other; there should be nothing simpler. Why does it have to be so complicated? “What if I can never do that?”

Tentatively, he moves to put his arms around her and she lets him hug her, her anger seeping away. “I don’t believe it’ll be never. I really don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m sexually irresistible.”

She shoves him hard enough to make him stumble back, both of them laughing.

“I’m gonna get you some water and a headache tablet,” he says, turning toward the bathroom.

“I don’t have a headache,” she calls.

“You will tomorrow.”

She actually won’t; alcohol doesn’t affect her that way and never has. But it’s a sweet gesture, and so she dutifully swallows the pill and the glass of water when he brings them to her.

They get ready for bed silently, actually changing into pajamas this time. Or in Peter’s case, a t-shirt advertising a Xandarian brand of beer and underwear. She’s seen him wandering around the Milano like that often enough that she shouldn’t find it remarkable, but tension still hangs between them like a tangible thing, and she can’t help cutting her eyes over to his bare legs as she brushes out her hair.

When they climb into bed, bodies turned toward each other, the tension remains.

“I’d like to kiss you again,” Gamora admits. She’s also starting to sober up, the blanketing clouds thinning to expose her anxiety at being this close to another person, to being this vulnerable. She tries to mentally close a door on the anxiety. It mostly works.

“Okay,” Peter says a little breathlessly, scooting closer to her, his face so close she can’t focus on it. His hand comes up to touch her face, his thumb tracing along one of the silver mods in her cheek. With a shudder, Gamora presses her lips to his.

He’s a good kisser, she has to admit as she lets herself relax into him, their mouths open and searching. His hand remains gentle on her head, guiding the angle and rhythm of it. Gamora shifts a leg against him and feels his erection brush against her through his underwear. She pulls away, overwhelmed and anxious and more than a little aroused.

“Sorry,” Peter gasps.

“Don’t be sorry,” she says. “I’m not… physically unaffected.” But she puts some distance between them.

“Yeah, but the way you get physically affected is way more subtle,” he says. “Unless there’s something about your species that I’m unaware of. Which I’m totally cool with, by the way.”

She smiles, looking down at her body. “No, I’m pretty similar to most female species in this quadrant. I don’t think you’d find anything… unexpected.”

He rolls onto his back, putting an arm behind his head. “Hey, what did you mean, of all people you wouldn’t have to explain it to me?”

Gamora squints, trying to remember what he’s talking about. “When did I say that?”

He huffs. “Never mind.”

Their earlier conversation comes back to her then. “I think I meant that it seems like before we knew each other, you fucked your way across the galaxy.”

He winces but doesn’t deny it. “A lot has happened since then.”

“Yeah.”

~*~

“This is nice,” Mantis says.

Gamora turns her head on her reclined deck chair to look at her companion. Both of them are stretched out next to a large swimming pool, eyes shaded with sunglasses and bodies clad in new swimming clothes they decided to splurge on. Gamora doesn’t think she’s ever been this close to naked in public before. It’s disconcerting, but also strangely freeing at the same time. It makes her very aware of her body. For that matter, she’s felt very aware of her body since they got to this leisure planet, and no more so than this morning, waking up in Peter’s arms.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Nice.”

“I’m glad you and Peter are together,” Mantis says. “I can tell you make each other happy.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds so simple,” Gamora says. “I wish it were that simple.”

“It’s not?”

Gamora sighs. She already feels flayed open, the way she’s been sharing her feelings with Peter recently. Now Mantis sits there looking at her, expecting Gamora to confide in her too. It’s exhausting.

“I grew up being tortured by Thanos, being turned into a weapon. Being touched meant being hurt. Sex, the few experiences of it that I’ve had, was just another weapon. A way to get information. A way to make someone vulnerable so that I could hurt them. I have no idea how to be… intimate with someone I care about. I’m not sure I can be.”

Mantis looks at her with sympathy. “I might be able to help you.”

Gamora’s eyes widen. “Yeah, thanks, but I’m not sure a threesome with you and Peter is what I’m interested in.”

“Oh!” Mantis giggles. “No, I wasn’t offering to be there in the room with you. I just mean I could…” She gestures vaguely at Gamora’s head. “You’re making an association between physical closeness and bad things that happened to you in your past. It’s a connection being made in your brain. I could suppress that.”

Sitting up, Gamora swings her legs over the deck chair and puts her bare feet on the ground. “Really? How long would that last?”

Mantis shrugs. “I don’t know. It depends on how strong the association is. But we could repeat the process as many times as you need, and eventually, your mind will make new connections. It will connect being close to Peter with good things. Safety. Comfort. Sexual pleasure—”

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” Gamora interrupts, uncomfortable. But, she has to admit, also excited.

Giving her a reassuring smile, Mantis pulls off her sunglasses and holds up her hands to either side of Gamora’s head. “So do you want to try it?”

~*~

“Gamora?” Peter calls as he unlocks the door to their hotel room. “What did you need?” She’d left Mantis at the pool and contacted him using their comms, telling him to meet her here.

She stops her pacing and turns, watching him walk in and seeing the minute he registers the bikini she’s wearing. “Whoa, ‘Mora, you look…” He blinks a few times, looking her up and down.

Gamora feels her cheeks heat up, and she decides to cut right to the chase.

“I told Mantis about my problem with physical intimacy, and she did something to the inside of my head,” she blurts out.

Peter looks concerned now. “What did she do, are you okay?”

Gamora barks out a nervous laugh. “I might be better than I’ve ever been. She did something so that I wouldn’t associate you touching me with… with my past. I don’t know how it works exactly. I don’t know how long it will last. I don’t know if it works at all, but there’s only one way to find out.”

One of his hands twitches. “You mean…”

She steps up close to him, her mouth an inch from his. “Yeah.”

Peter suppresses a groan as he kisses her, and she can feel his hands hesitate, hovering just above her lower back before he lets them settle carefully on her bare skin. Gamora gasps against his mouth.

“Okay?” he asks.

She kisses him again, letting her own hands wander over his shoulders. “Very okay.”

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his lips trailing down from her mouth to her jaw and then her neck.

Reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt, she rucks it up, pulling away long enough to get it over his head. Peter blinks at her, still looking shocked, as if he can’t quite believe this is happening.

“Gamora, are you sure about this?”

She nods, guiding him over and pushing him gently. He collapses into a sitting position on the bed, and she straddles his thighs, hovering over his lap. “I’m sure.” His hands return to her back, and the anxious buzz that usually comes along with his touch isn’t there. She just feels… good.

There’s more kissing (a lot more kissing), and both of them groan when she lowers her hips enough to grind against the hard length of him. She can feel the wetness gathering between her legs as she seeks more of that delicious friction.

“Do we need… um… I’ve had my shots, but if we need to use something, I could go get—”

Gamora shakes her head. Pregnancy won’t ever be in the cards for her, but she doesn’t want to tell that sad story now and derail their forward momentum. “I’m good.”

He kisses her again, his mouth hot and pliant against hers. “Okay.” Then he stops again. “You can say stop anytime, okay?”

“I’m not going to,” she says with a swivel of her hips.

“Yeah, but you can,” he groans, hands slipped down the back of her bikini onto her ass and pulling her more tightly against him.

“Thank you.” She puts her hands at either side of his face and pulls back to look at him. “You’re a good guy, Peter Quill.”

“Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”

There is more writhing and deep, wet kisses, and eventually, he rolls her onto her back, her knees bracketing his hips as he settles on top of her.

“This would be better if we were naked,” Gamora says.

“Fuck yes it would.” Peter’s up in an instant, pulling off his boots and socks and fumbling with his belt while he tries not to miss a second of Gamora slowly taking off her bikini. When she leans back on the pillows, completely naked, Peter trips over his pants and barely saves himself from collapsing onto the floor. She can’t help but laugh.

She looks him up and down when he’s also naked. “Not bad.”

He pounces on her, her legs spreading readily to accommodate him. “Not bad? That’s all you have to say, not bad?” He shifts his hips and grinds against her accurately, and Gamora moans.

The sound of her pleasure shifts his mood, and his mirth dissolves into something slower and more tender as he moves over to her side on the bed. Gamora frowns at him, confused. She thought it was happening, that he was seconds away from being inside her, and she’s suddenly worried that she did something wrong.

Peter seems to read her confusion. “I want to make sure this is good for you. Learn what you like.” His hand drags down to her stomach, fingers trailing over her abdominal muscles. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Her stomach swoops with excitement and nervousness. She nods.

His fingers are calloused but soft on her sensitive skin, and Gamora lets her eyes fall closed and sinks into the pleasure of what he’s doing to her. The slick strokes make her hips rise to meet his hand, and she hardly recognizes the breathy moans that come out of her mouth. His fingers slide into her, but it’s not enough — she needs him, all of him, buried deep and joined with her.

“Fuck, I want it too, baby,” Peter says, shifting back on top of her, and Gamora realizes that she must’ve spoken some of that out loud. She’d be embarrassed if she weren’t more aroused that she’s ever been in her life.

He lines himself up and thrusts into her slowly, sinking a little bit deeper each time he carefully pistons his hips. She feels a slight burn as he stretches her, but that’s quickly lost in how amazingly good it feels. He’s touching her everywhere, his hips against the insides of her thighs and his chest pressing against her breasts, his mouth on her shoulder and his cock inside her.

It’s wonderful.

They find a rhythm together, bodies sweating as they both reach toward what they need, what they’ve needed for ages from each other.

“You feel good,” Gamora whispers, inadequate words for the way he’s making her feel, his pelvis grinding against her at the apex of every thrust, nerves alight as he fills her over and over.

“God, you too, you’re—” He grunts, seeming to be hanging onto control by a thread. “You’re perfect.”

Her orgasm steals over her without warning, a fire that licks out from her center and consumes her, her throat dry as she cries out with it. Peter’s teeth graze her shoulder as his thrusts speed up and then he’s coming too. She’d laugh at the silly-sounding stifled groan that comes out of his mouth if she weren’t still half out of her mind, pleasurable aftershocks making her twitch.

Carefully, he pulls out and collapses on his stomach next to her, sort of gasp-giggling with relief (she assumes). He turns his head and grins widely at her. “Gamora, that was amazing.”

She doesn’t want to inflate his ego any more than it already is, but she’s not sure if she’s ever felt this good in her life. “Yeah, it was,” she says. She rolls onto her side and lifts her arm and lets it sort of flop over onto his back in an attempt to caress him. This kind of boneless, sated feeling is completely unfamiliar to her.

“We owe Mantis big time,” Peter says. Gamora chuckles. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”

He groans. “Then she’ll tell Drax, and he’ll want details…”

“True.” Not that it matters; she knows she’ll be talking to Mantis about this anyway, because it’s not as if she’s permanently cured. Strangely, though, the thought of her friends knowing these personal details about them doesn’t bother her that much. They know because they care about her. About both of them.

She’s feeling so good that for a moment she feels like she might blurt out something that she won’t be able to take back. That she might tell him that she loves him. Instead, she shoves him and says, “You’re not going to snore tonight, are you?”

He snorts. “Shut up.”

“Because I’m not going to share a bunk with you on the Milano if you snore.”

Peter’s eyes open at that. “You’d share a bunk with me?”

Gamora rolls onto her back. “Shut up.”

And he does, snuggling into her side, his hand trailing up and down her hip and thigh. She closes her eyes, relaxes, and enjoys his touch.