#and i mean that in the BEST way ofc!!! i shall be working on drafts and stuff but feel free to pop into my inbox-

[mad-hunts]

hey, everyone! i have an update for y'all, and i thought that this meme perfectly captured what my situation is rn:

now for the explanation LOL i only have two exams left, and then it's the end of the semester, so that means that i can spend more time on here soon!! plus, this weekend i will be able to get to some asks, so expect some replies to be going out that are probably long overdue ( and i am honestly SO sorry about that, y'all... thing's have just been so crazy for me irl if i'm being honest (,: ) as well as some recent ones! anyhow, i hope that y'all are having a great morning so far and make sure to stay hydrated + eat ❤️ i love each and every one of you guys, MUAHHH

[justthehiddleswrites]

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.

A/N: This will update every Thursday.  There are 13 chapters.  There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships.  This is the one I choose to write this time.  

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship.  When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian.  Which is the one thing he never knew he needed.  Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship.  But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open!  Let me know if you want to be added.  Thank you for reading!

-

Tom slept like a rock that night. The best night’s sleep in a long time. He dreamed of Vivian, kneeling on his chest, kissing him, teasing him, biting him. And he woke that morning with his cock hard and leaking. He stroked himself as he thought about Vivian. But not in the way he usually did. Instead of fantasizing of her touching him, sucking his cock, jerking him off, Tom closed his eyes and imagined his lips on Vivian’s folds and clit. Her hands in his hair tugging his head where she wants it. Vivian moaning in response to his touch, his tongue. As her pleasure increases, Tom’s motions in real life increased. Tom came with a soft gasp, spurting along his torso. He panted, trying to catch his breath. Once he regained his composure, he headed to the shower to clean himself up and go for a jog.

-

Vivian rapped her nails on the desk in her flat. Her email open on the screen. She was drafting the proposed protocols for Saturday to Tom, and she contemplated on how far to push him. So far, Tom exceeded all Vivian’s expectations. Which worried her. In the past, all men have been eager to please, at first. But once the shiny new wore off, and the men realized the relationship wasn’t about her fulfilling their fantasies of kinky sex and it was about surrendering to her authority, they ran. Sometimes without further word. It wasn’t the incompatibility that bothered Vivian, but the coldness in which they communicated it. As though she was without feeling or emotion. This caused her to assign the reading at the beginning, to move more cautiously. And she wasn’t sure if her heart could handle a rejection from Tom.

With a sigh, she typed out to Tom:

This is a date for the sole purpose of kissing. No food, no drink, no chitchat, no reading, no hanging out.

In short: Kissing, petting, stroking and all the things come along with that- yes. Talking, sex, orgasms- no.

Here is a list of what may happen, not what will happen. If anything bothers you or off limits, let me know.

- Kissing, obviously. Let me know of any spots that are off limits.

- Shirt off

- Pants off (underwear on)

-Nudity (you, not me)

- Kneeling

- Blindfold

- Light bondage (cuffs- both wrists and ankles, tied to the bed)

- Biting

-Bruises on your body (both in places normally covered by clothing and places it would be visible such as the neck)

- All over body touching (let me know of body parts off limits)

- All over body licking (same as above)

- Roles reversed (you touching/licking me)

- Hands around your throat (gentle not choking)

- Hair pulling

- Fingers in your mouth (not gagging)

- Body-slapping

- Pinching

And I think I covered everything. Wear a button-down (I like when you undo the top few buttons) and jeans or slacks. Send me a photo of what your current underwear options are. I will send you your address that morning. I expect you at 7.

Vivian

She smiled as she re-read the email. She buzzed with anticipation at the possibilities of Saturday night. Vivian was certain she would cuff and restrain Tom, and not just because he had the tendency to squirm underneath her. She suspected it would push a button and was eager to test her theory. She hit click and headed off to work.

-

Tom was eating breakfast, having finished his morning run when his phone dinged with a new email from Vivian. He read through her email and swallowed hard. The list was extensive. He re-read before finishing up breakfast and heading upstairs and digging through his underwear drawer. Tom had three options laid out on the bed. He snapped a photo of them laid out on the bed. He examined the photo, unhappy.

“Might as well.” he commented to himself as he stripped down and pulled on the first pair, navy boxers.

Tom stood in front of the full-length mirror in the closet and snapped a photo. He hated to admit he may have flexed a bit in the photo. He repeated the process with the white underwear briefs, and the black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Pleased with the photos, Tom typed back to Vivian.

Wow, that is quite the comprehensive list. I appreciate the thoroughness and the bullet points. I am not scheduled for any meetings until Wednesday, so any marks will have faded by then. My feet are ticklish. Probably shouldn’t tell you that. ;) And I would rather not have my armpits or the inside of my ears licked. Otherwise, I am game for whatever you want.

I have attached photos of the underwear, per your request. And if there is anything else I can do to be of service, please let me know, ma’am.

Your sunshine boy,

Tom

He attached the photos and sent the email and then returned to dressing for the day, flopping on the bed to return the last two books on his list before starting his essay.

-

Vivian was pleased Tom modeled the underwear rather than just lay them out of the bed. She probably would have directed him to model them. She wrinkled her nose at the first pic and flicking through the rest.

Black boxer briefs. Burn or throw away the tighty whities. If I find a pair in your home, I will punish you. Let’s change our night time call to 9:00 p.m. from now on. I hate keeping you up so late.

She placed the phone down on her desk. It buzzed almost immediately.

Consider them burned. 9 p.m. works for me, although I don’t mind waiting up if it means I get to hear your voice. :) I shall wait with bated breath until Saturday.

-

The rest of the day seemed to fly by for both of them and before long, Tom was settled into bed with both his books of collected poetry and Anna Karenina. He called on time and Vivian asked for him to read more of Tolstoy. He started doing voices of the characters, in particular an exaggerated Russian accent for Levin and Vronsky.

“I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.” Vivian commented after one particularly dramatic passage.

“I’m a full service entertainer. Comedy, drama, action, romance.” Tom teased back.

“What about erotica?” she teased right back, her voice low.

Tom paused. “For you? Without question.” She could hear the hesitation, fear, and excitement in his voice. She hoped it would remain.

Vivian sighed. “I think it is enough reading for tonight. I want you to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.” he responded.

“Goodnight, Tom, my sunshine.”

“Goodnight, Vivian.”

They ended the call, and both drifted off to sleep.

-

Vivian attended her weekly blowout appointment, not realizing Tom spent the day as a bundle of nerves. He ran ten miles hoping to burn off excess energy. It didn’t work. The only thing he did was finish the last of the books from Vivian’s list. The fastest ever read through anything in some time. He was too distracted to write his essay, thought swirling in his brain. Tom wants it to be perfect. He wants everything to be perfect for Vivian.

Tom must have tried on at least six different shirts, each discarded on the bed as unsuitable. He settles on a soft, well worn light blue shirt. One of his favorites. The collar is fraying at the corners, which is why he doesn’t wear out as much anymore, favoring instead newer but less comfortable shirts. He grabbed a pair of jeans only to notice a hole on the inside of the thigh and discarded them also on the bed, grabbing a different pair. Tom left the top two buttons undone, a calculated air of casual. A quick dab of cologne and then he waited, not wanting to arrive too early.

-

After her morning errands, Vivian ate a light lunch and set about preparing her flat for Tom. She made up the bed with fresh linens and double checked the restraint points on the posts. She hadn’t decided on a leg position, so Vivian placed straps on all the corners as well as the point in the middle. Vivian opened the nightstand and retrieved the cuffs, adjusting them and placing them prominently in the foyer on a table. Cuffing Tom would be among the first things she did that night. In addition, she laid out a blindfold on the nightstand and put a bottle of water there too. After bathing, she slipped into a simple silk tank and striped shorts. She wore the same wedges as before. Vivian enjoyed looking Tom in the eye while standing and kissing. A quick dab of perfume behind the ears and settled on the couch, watching some TV waiting for Tom.

He knocked on her door, ten minutes early. Acceptably early without fear of being so early that he disturbed preparations.

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” Tom commented.

Vivian giggled. His eagerness was endearing. “I’ll allow it. Come in.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped into her flat, looking around in wonder. Vivian grabbed him by the chin and kissed him hard.

“Do you still remember your word, sunshine?”

“Yes.” Tom is already breathing hard. “Sushi.”

She smiled and slid her hand down around Tom’s neck. His Adam’s apple moving underneath her palm. His eyes widened in fear. Vivian kissed him again. He leaned forward when she stepped back. She walked around him, fingers tracing the planes of his body, his broad shoulders, defined pecs and abs. Vivian gave his ass a playful swat. Tom yelped and staggered forward.

“Such a nice ass, sunshine.” She growled in his ear, grabbing it with her nails.

“Thank you, ma’am.” his voice shook. He wasn’t used to being manhandled, and his cock appreciated the rough touch.

“Shirt and pants off.” She stepped back to watch him undressed.

Tom’s cheeks blushed. He had been nearly nude in a room of strangers before, but under Vivian’s glare, he never felt so exposed. Tom tugged his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons this time. He folded the shirt, placing it on the nearby table while he slipped his shoes and socks off, and slipping his jeans down his lean legs. Vivian licked her lips at Tom in his underwear. While the man appeared fit clothed, he was something carved from marble without the clothes. He flashed a lopsided smile as he placed his jeans on top of his shirt and folding his hands in front of him, obscuring his crotch.

“God, you are beautiful.” Vivian hissed as she stepped forward to kiss him again. Tom hummed back at the praise, his body growing warm. She nipped at his lower lip, nibbling rather than biting, sending shocks through his body. “Wrists, please.”

Vivian moved to the table. Tom’s arms shot out. She grabbed the leather cuffs and put them on. Tom jerked back his arms.

“What are those?” His brows furrowed.

“Cuffs. Wrists.” Her tone sharp. Tom hesitated, his mouth opening to protest. “Sunshine, wrists.” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am.” He reluctantly held out his wrists. She tightened the cuffs, making sure they wouldn’t chafe.

Tom twisted his wrists back and forth, testing out the weight and listening to the rings thudding against the thick leather. Vivian kissed him again, hands sliding down his torso. His cock jumped. She grabbed the back of his neck and led him towards the bedroom. Tom gulped at the blindfold and straps.

“Ah…” he started before being cut off by Vivian’s lips on his neck. “Oh!” he moaned. She laved and sucked hard, removing her lips with a pop, satisfied at the dark mark already formed.

“On the bed, sunshine. On your back.” Tom scrambled onto the bed, lying flat on his back. As Vivian slipped the cuffs on Tom’s ankles, he jerked back. She raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

She slipped her shoes off and then hooked his ankle cuffs to the straps in the middle of the bed. As Vivian strolled to the head of the bed, she ran a nail up Tom’s leg. He jerked against the restraints. She grabbed his arm and clipped it onto the strap before crawling onto the bed, reaching over to clip in the other side, her breasts grazing Tom’s body. His hips bucked.

“So squirmy, sunshine. Best I did tie you up.” Vivian straddled his chest, pushing him into the mattress. “I can’t let you get away just yet.” She pressed against his lips softly, earning a sigh. Her teeth worried his lower lip.

“Ow.” he mock protested.

Nevertheless, Vivian let go of his lip and trailed down his neck. She licked the bruise from earlier before moving down to his collarbone. Vivian sucked and nipped, leaving the twin to the neck’s bruise there. She smiled at her handiwork. Tom struggled against the restraints.

“They have held stronger men than you, sunshine.” Vivian dragged her nails down his sides, leaving faint lines. As she settled by his hips, Tom’s cock pressed against her. Tom huffed and puffed as she kissed his Adonis belt, scraping her teeth along his skin from time to time. Her hands stroked along his thighs and he flexed under her touch.

She slid off of Tom’s body, and he whined at the lack of contact. Vivian rolled back on top of Tom, lying along his full body like a blanket. Tom sighed at the weight and contact. She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart race. She snaked a hand to the back of his head and jerked his head sideways before kissing him. Tom met her lips with hunger and he whimpered each time she pulled away, only to tug him towards her again. He strained against the restraints, desperate to touch her, to pull her tight against him and rut against her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, needy, exploring every inch. He moaned as Vivian’s grip tightened on his hair, hurting, but he wanted more.

Vivian could sense Tom coming close to overheating, making a mess and complicating the hell out of this. His cock strained, hard and weeping. She pulled away, holding his lower lip between her teeth as long as possible, stretching it.

“Ow.” Tom muttered.

Vivian slid down to press against Tom’s side. She cupped her cheek before gently kissing behind Tom’s ear. Tom moaned softly from the back of his throat. Her fingers twisted into his hair and she massaged his scalp. Tom’s shoulders relaxed and his hands loosened from the fists. As she scratched and petted him, he leaned into her touch, his breath slowing to a deep and even pace. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soft touch.

“You are so beautiful, my sunshine.” She cooed at him. Her other finger tracing his jaw and cheekbone. “So pretty.” She kissed his cheek and stroked his chest.

“Thank you, ma’am.” His voice breathy and floaty.

Vivian reached over and unhooked Tom’s wrist. She turned and unhooked his other wrist. Tom didn’t move. She stood to unhook his ankles.

“Legs up, please.” Tom lifted his legs into the air. Vivian undid the cuffs, rubbing the skin and massaging it. She kissed the top of his feet and Tom giggled and squirmed. “You weren’t joking about being ticklish.”

“No, ma’am.” He slowly floated back to reality.

“Sit up, please.” Tom rocked up, his hair a rumpled mess, and held out his wrists. Vivian smoothed out his hair and held the back of his neck while she kissed his cheek and lips a few more times. She released him and unbuckled the wrist cuffs, rubbing his wrists and kissing each one and placed them on the nightstand and grabbed the water bottle, handing it to Tom.

“Thank you.” He opened the bottle and took a large swig. Vivian smoothed his hair back one more time.

“Let’s go get dressed, sunshine.” He sighed, taking another swig of water before standing. Vivian slipped her wedges back on and walked beside Tom, rubbing his neck the entire time. “I was a bit rough on you. Are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice quiet while he grabbed his jeans and tugged them on before pulling on his shirt, tucking it and zipping up.

“How did it feel? I imagine you are used to being treated with kid gloves.”

Tom pulled on his socks and shoes, working on finding the right words.

“I don’t quite know how it felt.” Tom replied, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “But I know I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t mind the pain. I wanted to touch you and make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Vivian smiled and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. “Sunshine, I feel good. I received great pleasure at teasing you.” She kissed him. “With my mouth. And watching you squirm and hearing you purr.” She petted the back of his head. “But I appreciate your desire to please me physically. And you will when the time comes.”

Tom stared at her with his endless blue eyes. “When will that be, ma’am?”

“When you’re ready, Sunshine.” She kissed his cheek. “You still haven’t finished your homework first.”

Tom’s hands fidgeted, twisting in front of him. “I finished all the books. I plan on starting the essay tomorrow.” He stared at the floor. “I want it to be perfect.”

“As long as it is from your heart it will be, my sunshine boy.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t ask for perfection, just effort.”

Tom nodded and squeezed her hand back. “Yes, ma’am.”

She walked him to the door, kissing him one more time. “Call me in the morning when you wake up.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You are welcome. The pleasure was mine.”

Tom smiled and kissed Vivian’s cheek and headed out. She clicked the door shut and set about cleaning up the place. Tom came home and ate a sandwich before turning in early that evening, his brain still fuzzy.

-

As requested, Tom called in the morning, still in bed, to check in with Vivian. It pleased her that outside of the marks on his neck and collarbone, Tom was no worse for wear. Tom left out the part of the dreams he had or the fact he woke up with a raging hard on which Tom took care of in the shower, skipping his run for thirty minutes on his long neglected rowing machine.

Tom lazed about for most of the morning, having something akin to a hangover without the benefit of being drunk beforehand. As he sat down at this computer to start his essay for Vivian, there was a knock on the door. He groaned as he trudged to see who would dare disturb his lazy Sunday.

A smiling Benedict greeted him at the door. When he saw Tom in workout gear, he frowned.

“You’re not dressed!” he complained.

“For what?” Tom blinked back at him. He didn’t recall making plans.

“Lunch!” Benedict stepped in the foyer. “We made plans weeks ago. I’ll wait for you to change.”

Tom was ready to protest, but Ben crossed his arms and it was clear he wasn’t leaving without Tom. With a huff, Tom discarded his clothes into the bedroom which now had a small pile of discarded and dirty clothes, and grabbed an old gray v neck t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Shoving his feet into a pair of boots, Tom stomped back to Ben, pushing past him.

“Let’s go.” Tom grumbled.

Tom’s mood improved once he ordered some food and got half a pint into his system. Benedict stared at him, squinting.

“What?” Tom asked, still irritated.

“What is that on your neck?” He pointed at Tom’s neck. Tom twisted it, and then Ben spied the second mark on his collarbone. “And your chest? Were you attacked?”

Tom touched his collarbone and remembered. He blushed. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” He gulped down the other half of his pint and stood. “Let me go get another round.”

Benedict held out his arm to stop Tom. “It’s like you were bitten by someth… Oh… OH!” The lightbulb went off. “Things going well with Vivian?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes.” He sidestepped Ben’s arm and grabbed another pint before returning to the table.

“Care to share?” He prodded.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Moving on.” Tom grew more homicidal by the second.

Benedict clapped his hands together. “Remember how Sophie wrangled me into serving on the children’s hospital charity board?”

“Yes.” Tom saw the Cheshire Cat grin on Ben’s face. “No. No! I went last year and got cornered by that old lady who kept calling me ‘Henry’.”

“It was endearing.”

“It was ridiculous.”

“There’s an open bar.”

“Hard pass.”

“I have two tickets. You can bring Vivian.”

Tom stared at his friend. “I am not introducing you to Vivian.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like her and I’m afraid you will scare her off.”

Benedict scoffed. “I have never…” He clutched his chest in dramatic fashion. “… never scared anyone off.”

“Alice, Catherine, Eva…” Tom counted off on his fingers. “… I can go on.”

“None of them met my high standards. Please come.” he begged. “Sophie will kill me if you don’t come.”

“The thought of your death is tempting.”

The waiter set the food down.

“Tom…” Benedict dropped all pretense. “… please come. I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

Tom’s head dropped. “Give me the details. I will check with Vivian tonight when I call her.”

Benedict’s lips pursed. “Really? I can’t wait to meet her. Especially someone who leaves marks like that on you. Sounds like she is yours for the taking.”

“Yeah.” Tom mumbled as he took a bite of his food.

-

Tom called her at 9 p.m. like always.

“Sunshine, how was your Sunday?” she asked.

“Speaking of that…” Tom started, and she noticed the nerves in his voice. “What are you doing next Friday evening?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I believe I’m free. Do you have any ideas?”

Tom exhaled sharply. “I’ve been invited to a charity event by Benedict and I have two tickets, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me.” He blurted it all out in one big run-on sentence.

Vivian paused before laughing. “Wow, you were really nervous about that, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is still so new and I don’t… I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You are just the sweetest, sunshine. You know that right? Beautiful and sweet. Yes, I will go with you.”

Tom beamed. “How would everything work?”

“Like any date would. We go, we drink, we dance and mingle.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, darling. We can set some rules that work for both of us. okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, read to me please.”

Tom grabbed the book.

-

Tom and Vivian agreed he would pick out three outfit options, but Vivian would come over ahead of time and make the final choice. They would not use pet names and instead would do what is natural. Tom asked that she still rub the back of his neck.

“It calms me down.” he commented.

“Of course, sunshine. I like when you are calm. You are more attentive that way.”

It was now the day of the event and Vivian sat on Tom’s bed, noticing the clutter. Tom was modeling the second outfit.

“I don’t like the tie. Let’s see the last one.”

Tom undid the tie and shirt and grabbed the last option. It was a double-breasted blue pinstripe suit with a blue shirt and navy tie. He did a little spin.

“That one.” Vivian stood and straightened his tie and petted his neck before squeezing his ass. “Your ass looks amazing in those trousers.”

Tom blushed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She kissed his cheek, wiping away her gloss. “Remember, no names, now let’s go.”

-

Tom was more at ease with Vivian by his side. Her reassuring touch at the back of his neck or even his shoulder grounded him. Not to mention, she dazzled everyone she met. Now for the big test.

“Benedict, Sophie, meet Vivian Swann. Vivian meet Benedict Cumberbatch, notorious troublemaker, and his queen of a wife, Sophie Hunter.”

Vivian shook each of their hands, holding tight to Tom’s but leaning in for a kiss on the cheek by Ben. Tom tightened his grip. She suppressed a giggle.

“Charmed. Thank you so much for inviting me. I have been looking into getting the firm involved in more charity work and the children’s ward is an enticing option.”

“Firm?” Sophie questioned.

“Watkins, Price, and Forbes. I work in their corporate law division.”

Benedict let loose a low whistle.

“Tom, you didn’t tell me you were dating a pit bull.” Sophie commented. “Impressive.”

Vivian smiled. “I prefer the term ‘velvet hammer’ but pit bull works. “

“How did you and Tom meet?” Ben interjected.

Tom paled, but Vivian didn’t miss a beat.

“The Bloomsbury Club. We bonded over a shared loved for Macallan 18-year-old aged whisky.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Right. Why don’t we take a seat?” He gestured at their reserved table.

“Your feet must be killing you in those shoes, Vivian. After having kids, I just can’t stand wearing them, but if I want to see eye to eye with this one.” She gestured at Benedict.

“Guilty.” He shrugged. “Although not as tall as the Frost Giant over there.”

Tom paused as he pulled out Vivian’s chair for her.

“I don’t mind the heels.” Vivian responded. “It is all what you get used to. Besides, I enjoy towering over people.” she giggled.

“Champagne?” the waiter offered.

“No, it makes her sneeze.” Tom commented.

“Get me a glass of white wine, please?” Vivian gazed up at him.

Tom smiled down and kissed her cheek. “Yes, of course, darling.”

“Sophie?”

Benedict and Sophie blinked at the two of them.

“Uh… yes a white wine sounds fantastic. Thank you, Tom.”

Tom nodded and headed off to the bar. Sophie elbowed Benedict in the ribs. He shuffled to his feet.

“Tom, let me help you with that!” He called after his friend.

Sophie waited until both men were out of earshot.

“How did you… I don’t want to know. You’re not like Tom’s other girlfriends, Miss Vivian Swann.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or an insult. So I will say thank you.”

“Definitely a compliment. There is something different about Tom when he is around you. He seems…”

“… happy?”

“Yes, but the word is content.” Sophie added. “Content, at peace. After that last nasty breakup, the man could use a little peace and quiet.”

“Hopefully not too quiet.” Vivian smirked.

“Are you two gossiping about us?” Benedict teased.

“I was just telling Vivian how happy and content our dear Thomas looks with her.” Sophie quipped.

Tom blushed as Vivian smiled and reached out to rub his neck. “I am. Thank you for noticing Sophie.”

-

The evening wound down. Tom for once enjoyed the event. Vivian won over Benedict and Sophie, so much so that Sophie invited her to go shopping tomorrow afternoon while she wrangled Benedict and Tom in tearing down a shed in Ben’s yard.

“Leave them to grunt work while we shop.”

“I would love to.” Vivian sipped at her wine.

The two couples said goodbye while waiting for the valet. Benedict hugged Vivian tight and kissed her cheek. While Sophie and her exchanged numbers. Benedict pulled Tom to the side.

“There’s something different about you, man.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m still me.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“No,” Ben folded his hands in front of his face. “there is definitely a change. And I think it has something to do with that enchanting woman over there, who I am sure is being tortured with baby pictures by my wife.”

“Perhaps.” Tom replied cryptically.

“Don’t fuck it up man. You will never find another girl…”

“Woman.” he corrected his friend.

“… Woman like her. You deserved a little happiness.”

“Tom?” Vivian placed her hand on his back. “The car’s here.”

“Of course. Ben.” He shook his friend’s hand and then hugged Sophie before opening the door for Vivian and then getting in and driving off.

-

“I’m going to head home.” Vivian stated when they got back to Tom’s home.

“Okay. I had a lot of fun tonight. It wasn’t nearly as dreadful with you there.”

“Your friends are a delight. They really do want the best for you, sunshine.”

Tom smiled at the name. “Yes, ma’am.” He fell back into the old pattern.

She grabbed the back of his head and tugged him into a kiss. Tom wrapped his arms around her and did his best to hold her tight. She pulled away, and he whined.

“I’m ready to take this to the next step, Vivian. I want to please you.” His hands ghosted over his shoulders. “In all ways.”

She smiled. “Send me the essay and we will talk. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“I will send it as soon as I step inside. I could cook you lunch here.”

“I would like that, sunshine.” She kissed him one more time. “Sleep well.”

“Yes, ma’am. You too.”

She smiled and walked to her car to head home. Tom stepped inside and rushed to his computer. He did a quick spell check on the essay he had been tweaking over the last week and clicked send.

“There.”

Vivian laughed as her phone beeped before she even left Tom’s driveway, knowing it was Tom’s homework.

“So eager. I like that.”

[saiilorstars]

The Serpent

Fandom: MCU // Pairing: T’Challa x woc!OFC

Chapter Summary: **One shot. Agent Citlalli Del Rio struggles to keep her professionalism in check whenever she visits Wakanda and its King. If she paid attention, she would notice that T'Challa has the same issues with her. Only he will know how to eventually get through to the woman who was once known as the warrior Serpent to her own people.

A/N: This is just a one-shot of an OC I'm currently drafting. I always like sampling a new OC with a few one-shots before I post an actual story and since I already did an OC/Steve and OC/Bucky one-shot series for each, we're going for the last OC I had in mind for now! A little context, she's a descendant from the Aztecs and, thus, from Mexico! The pronunciation of the OC's name is 'Seet-la-lee'!

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​ @stareyedplanet​ @perfectlystiles​

Citlalli’s Masterlist // Masterlist to my other OCs

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

"You certainly look as sharp as ever," Okoye remarked in her rigid stance when T'Challa walked up beside her. She didn't even look at him completely, she had enough sight from the corner of her eyes.

"As King of Wakanda, I have an obligation to look my best," was the very King's response. Had they not been surrounded by the Dora Milaje, awaiting for a scheduled visitor, perhaps Okoye would've snorted at the weak excuse. She may also be holding that snort out of sheer pity. She knew well enough why he was taking extra care in his appearance today.

As agreed upon, their visitor arrived a short moment later. Okoye could see T'Challa straightening himself up when the jet landed a safe distance from them. It was frankly bemusing.

The jet opened up and in a few seconds, a tall woman dressed in a traditional black pant suit with a white buttoned up blouse stepped down. Her caramel brown eyes met the awaiting group across from her. She walked towards them in a purposeful stride. It wasn't the first time she was lucky enough to visit the King in Wakanda itself.

"Your majesty," she said. Even the slight Spanish accent in her tone wasn't enough to hide the overwhelming sarcasm.

If Okoye hadn't already met her plenty of times before, she would've been outright offended with the sarcasm.

"Don't you dare bow," T'Challa warned the woman as soon as he caught one of her legs already bending.

The woman chuckled and straightened up that leg. "Caught me," she put a hand over her chest. "One of these days, you won't."

"I will keep my eyes sharp and open when you are around," T'Challa promised her. Beside him, he could see the tight-lipped smile Okoye was battling on her face. He had half a mind to send her away but that would out him in a second. Instead, he put all of his attention on the woman standing in front of him.

She was waiting for him with a polite smile on her face. Her curly brown hair was neatly laid on the left side of her neck but the light breeze in the air would occasionally pull loose strands.

"Agent Del Rio, welcome to Wakanda," he said, making her smile widen.

"It is beautiful as always and, just as always, my name is Citlalli. I beg you to use it," she glanced at Okoye with a polite smile. "Nice to see you as well."

Okoye gave a dutiful nod. "Likewise."

Citlalli put her hands together in front of her. "I am ready to start whenever you are," she said to T'Challa. "But I need to return to Virginia by the end of the day."

"Of course," T'challa gave her a nod. She was always on a schedule given her work in the C.I.A. but he always managed to stretch out her visits a bit more than what she always scheduled for them.

Citlalli motioned him to lead the way back to the palace. She assumed their meeting room was already waiting for them.

"Actually, I thought we could do something different," T'Challa said, much to her surprise. "It's just you and I this time so I thought we would have more time, you know?"

"Ah," Citlalli slowly nodded, "O-okay. Where would you like to have the meeting?" T'Challa set his eyes on the city beside them. Citlalli didn't quite understand until she followed his gaze. "Oh." She blinked.

T'Challa smirked. "Shall we?" he motioned her to walk first. Slowly, she did. T'Challa followed behind her but he met Okoye's smirk on his turn.

"Hardly a place for a meeting," she mumbled as they began to walk.

"Shh," he promptly told her.

~ 0 ~

"This is hardly a place for a meeting," Citlalli would unknowingly repeat Okoye's words later on in the day. She and T'Challa walked side by side down the bustling city. "I am not wearing the right clothes, either." She fanned herself with her hand every now and then. It was a warm day today.

"Nothing wrong with a change of air," T'Challa shrugged his shoulders. He enjoyed watching her curious eyes gaze over the many stalls lining their sides. Despite being one of the people allowed in Wakanda-the only agent allowed for that matter-she'd never gone out of the palace during her visits.

"Of course not," Citlalli agreed, "But, as I said, I am here to talk business." She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Dora Milaje walking a good distance from them. Privacy reasons and whatnot. "And besides, we could save the Dora the walk, couldn't we?"

"They are fine. Trust me, Citlalli," T'Challa insisted. "What are we supposed to be talking about?"

Citlalli sent him a flattened-expressed glance. "Did you not read the file I sent you prior to this meeting?"

"Of course I did, I just wanted to make sure you read them. Have you?"

Citlalli couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. For a King, he was rather funny sometimes. She tucked a curl behind her ear and sighed. "Alright," she conceded with him. They could discuss their potential plans outside. It was actually rather beautiful outside anyways. "It's regarding the center you recently opened in Oakland. Stark is interested in aiding with the funding."

"I am very thankful for it but Wakanda is more than capable of taking care of the finances of the program," T'Challa said, purposely stopping in front of a stall.

Citlalli was forced to do the same without noticing what the stall was offering. She was focused on the conversation. "Of course, nobody doubts that. I certainly don't but the idea is-"

"Would you like some?" He offered her a small piece of bread.

"What?" She blinked at it, having been thrown in the middle of her conversation. "Are you listening to me?"

"Of course, what kind of person do you think I am?" He offered the bread again.

Citlalli sighed. "I didn't exactly bring money to go shopping."

T'Challa smiled at her. "My treat."

Citlalli raised an eyebrow at him. "Does that mean you will pay?"

Before T'Challa could explain to her how it usually went, the seller herself told her that it was really her treat. How could the King pay and much less a friend of the King?

With that, Citlalli had no choice but to accept the bread, or whatever it was. She took it from T'Challa and dropped it into her mouth. As soon as she started chewing, sweet flavors of honey and nuts flooded her mouth. "Oh, that is good," she covered her mouth as she went through the several stages of divine tasting.

T'Challa chuckled at her. "I thought you would like it. I remember you mentioning your like for honey."

"Mhm," she nodded. "You remembered that?" It'd been an off-handed remark in a conversation she could barely remember.

"Of course," he said in a matter-of-fact way that made her pause for a moment. She studied him.

"What is it?" T'Challa asked her when the studying lasted minutes.

"I am just trying to figure you out,"Citlalli shrugged. She began to move again, prompting him to do the same. "I never considered you to be the type of King who walks through his own city."

"Is that bad in your eyes?"

"No," Citlalli smiled at him. "It's humble."

"I am glad you think so. Can I show you something else? I think you might like it." T'Challa picked up his pace to reach another stall.

Citlalli had to sprint a bit to catch up. They ultimately stopped by a stall full of flashy jewelry. She was delighted at the sight-he knew that she loved accessories. Her favorite, though, were the...

"I thought you might like this one," T'Challa took one golden snake-head bracelet. She was always drawn to the serpents because of her background.

Citlalli's smile faltered at the sight of it. "Um..." she swallowed hard. "That's very beautiful but...I don't wear that stuff anymore, you know that."

T'Challa nodded. "Because you haven't found your people yet, but I have no doubt that you will."

Citlalli never knew whether or not she regretted telling him the story of her lost village. She trusted him to keep the secret to himself but she wasn't sure if she was alright with the fact that someone else knew about her personal mission, a personal mission that she was failing miserably at. "You are kind with your faith but my personal agendas should not be any of your concern," she offered him a polite smile. "You are King. You have enough on your to-do list."

"I will always make time for a friend." T'Challa suspected that if Okoye could hear the conversation, she would've scoffed for sure. He was guilty of wanting to offer Citlalli a lot more than friendship.

Citlalli lowered his hand with the bracelet to the stall. "Please," she whispered, eyes falling low with distinctive pain. "Can we go back to the meeting?"

T'Challa was alarmed with the hurt in her eyes. That was never what he intended and the fact that Citlalli even showed that type of feeling meant she was truly hurt about something. No doubt it pertained to that personal agenda she had. Ever since he met Citlalli, which had been under the worst circumstances due to his own pain with the death of his father, she always gave the aura of strength. She hadn't been nicknamed the Serpent in her village for nothing. She was strong, brave and best of all, a mediator. She liked solving problems and providing the justice that most people didn't get. But it appeared that her solitude was slowly getting the best of her.

Anyone would if they were separated from their people for as long as she'd been.

"Citlalli—" He tried to mend is mistake but she simply asked him if they could talk about the meeting again. He didn't want to make her feel any worse so he had to agree.

The rest of the day was, lamentably, all about the kinks of the outreach program and a few other potential programs they could start. At the end of the day, they returned to where they started. The jet was already waiting for Citlalli.

"Before I go," she said, "This was from Stark." She produced an envelope from her pocket.

"Do we have any idea what it is?" T'Challa raised the envelope to the sky to see a few words through the paper.

"I might," Citlalli rocked back and forth on her feet. T'Challa gave her an odd look until she answered, "I may have gotten one myself."

"Gotten what?"

"It's an invitation. Stark is throwing a birthday party for Miss Potts. Very nice place, very sunny place, so if you go, you should take that in mind for clothing preferences."

"Will you be attending?" T'Challa curiously asked her. He had no idea where that act of bravery came from but he thanked Bast that it came.

Citlalli sheepishly shrugged. "My relationship with Tony Stark is terse at times but I do appreciate what he is trying to do for people after, uh, what transpired with the Accords. Plus, Pepper is a good friend."

T'Challa had all the information he needed. "I will see you there."

Citlalli half smiled at him. He always spoke so easily, she envied it. For all her experiences with people, royalty, he always made her feel like she wasn't doing enough. He simply made her forget things she knew how to do, like talking. Why he kept such an open friendship with her, she had no idea. Surely there were other agents he could speak with.

You're the only agent allowed in Wakanda. What's that about? She ignored the warmth in her chest each time she remembered that detail. He'd chosen her to do Wakanda's business with whenever it came to speaking with the C.I.A. Why? It was an answer she never got an answer to and truth be told, she was a little afraid of what the answer was anyways.

"It was lovely visiting, as always," she spoke up after realizing she spent a lot of time thinking silently. "Your city..." she glanced at the city's landscape on their side, "It really is magnificent."

"Hopefully next time I will be able to show you much more of it," T'Challa said, really having faith that the next time she visited, he would get it right and be able to show her everything.

Citlalli nodded. She held a hand out to shake with him. T'Challa took her hand and shook it but just as Citlalli would pull her hand from his, he gripped it. She raised an eyebrow at him, curious. Had they forgotten to talk about something?

T'Challa would then raise her hand in his hand to press his lips over it for a kiss. Citlalli felt a deep warmth over her face. T'Challa looked at her from under his lashes, smiling at her in a way that spread the warmth down to her stomach. Butterflies would even arise.

"I hope to see you at that celebration," T'Challa lowered her hand between them but without letting it go.

Citlalli had to catch her breath before even thinking about speaking. "See you..." She swallowed hard, immediately feeling the cold when T'Challa let her hand go.

Very unprofessional! The voice in her head scolded. She turned to leave as soon as her feet responded. She couldn't trust herself if she stayed another minute.

T'Challa was left to watch the jet disappear in the sky. In a matter of seconds, Okoye had stepped up beside him. "Well, will you really be attending that celebration?" she curiously asked, eyes wondering over the invitation T'Challa held tightly in his hand.

"If it is my only chance, why not?" He countered, smiling to himself. He wasn't all that into the idea of being surrounded by unknown people but if Citlalli was there then it wouldn't be that bad.

~ 0 ~

Stark's choice of scene for the party was, as usual, a grand site. Even Okoye would admit to it, but everything else was irritating.

"This dress is far too uncomfortable," she grumbled to T'Challa as they walked in through the entrance. He wanted no Dora Milaje around today and the only way that would happen is if Okoye accompanied him.

"You could go back..." He said far too innocently for anybody to believe him.

She threw him a sharp look. "What for? Agent Del Rio has no quarrel having me around. Do you?" T'Challa purposely kept his gaze ahead of them. Okoye's smirk wasn't something he wanted to face.

They eventually came to the backyard, a large place for the party. There were far too many people around, none that really concerned T'Challa. He saw a few familiar faces amongst the crowd eventually, like Rhodey and Pepper. As politeness went, T'Challa moved towards the latter to wish her a happy birthday.

"Thank you for coming," Pepper smiled wide, especially when Okoye handed her their gift. "You really shouldn't have."

"I hope you like it," T'Challa sincerely said. His eyes swept over Pepper to see if he could finally spot Citlalli. Maybe she wasn't here yet.

"Tony!" Pepper called, motioning him to come over from wherever he was.

"The King!" They soon heard Tony's exclaim.

Okoye rolled her eyes as the man headed their way. To T'Challa's surprise, however, he was not alone. Citlalli was walking beside him, looking like she'd just entertained something no doubt Stark "funny".

"Nice of you to make it," Tony greeted the pair of visitors. "A change of sights doesn't hit bad, does it?"

"No," agreed T'Challa. He met Citlalli's gaze, brain racking to say something good to her as a greeting. The way she looked, though, would prevent much of that from happening.

Her curly hair had been tamed to one side again, braided to the tip. She wore a spaghetti-strapped white maxi dress with a bright turquoise flower pattern. There was a beaded necklace of browns and turquoise sitting around her neck with a large shiny brown stone in the center. With little makeup, she boasted her natural beauty, whether she realized it or not.

"Your majesty," she beat him to the greeting, just like she typically did.

T'Challa wondered when he would be able to say the first word to her. Probably when you stop staring at her. Perhaps then...or perhaps not. He tended to lose air when he was around. "Citlalli," he managed to say her first name this time around. Baby steps.

"Okoye," Citlalli flashed a smile at the woman. "I love the dress today. Red is your color."

"Thank you," Okoye pressed a hand down her side. "But I can't keep wearing this all day. How do you do it?"

Citlalli and Pepper laughed together. The former then admitted that she wasn't all that used to wearing dresses anymore. "When you're a C.I.A. agent, you don't really get a down time for leisure. But Miss Potts over knows her way around pencil skirts." Okoye's face might as well have said there'd been a murder.

"We are not going to stand here and discuss skirts, are we?" Tony pretended to be oh-so-tired already. "There's music, there's dancing, food, amazing drinks. Please enjoy."

"Please do," Pepper said in a much kinder manner. "And thank you for coming." She headed off with Tony.

"I must admit I thought you would not come," Citlalli said to the pair when the others had gone.

"Why?" T'Challa curiously asked her.

"I don't know..." she shrugged, suddenly looking shy which was one thing Citlalli Del Rio was not. "I didn't think you and Stark were that close, that's all."

"We are not, but it is a good idea to be on a amicable terms for both sides."

Citlalli nodded with an understanding that only they would understand. After the Accords, everyone knew that the ties between Stark and most of the Avengers had been thoroughly severed. "I am glad that you can do that," she said. "And I am also happy that you came."

Now that brought a good smile from T'Challa. "Really?"

Citlalli's eyes flickered to the side, hoping to calm that warmth in her face again. "Yes, I...I need to speak with you, actually."

Surprising given the location they were in, but T'Challa would take it. He glanced at Okoye, not needing to say it out loud. She could barely hold the struggle to not roll her eyes.

"I will be over there..." she excused herself and walked away.

"You look beautiful today, agent," T'Challa said as soon as they were alone for fear that he would lose his courage. It was all worth it when she smiled bashfully. Did he make her shy?

"Thank you," Citlalli found her voice a few seconds later. She couldn't help look him over—ignoring how utterly unprofessional it was—and concluded that he was as handsome as ever in his casual dark suit. If he moved, she would get a flicker of purple. "You look good," she returned when she was sure that she would be able to say it in one go.

"Would you like to dance?" T'Challa made a gesture to the ongoing dancing behind them. It wasn't quite his style but he could only dream of being that close to Citlalli and today he might just get the chance.

Citlalli's eyes flickered past him towards the dancing. "I was just dancing with Stark..." she started, already sounding weary as she began to remember it.

T'Challa chuckled at her expression. "I will not be like Stark."

"I doubt you could be," Citlalli said. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"Does it pertain to business?"

"No, not really."

"Then can we dance first? After that, I promise I am all ears."

Citlalli bit on her bottom lip as she considered the implications of a dance with him. It wasn't a slow dance but it did require for arms to be around each other's. Could she handle that? Whether or not she could, did she want to? Absolutely, she answered herself on the spot.

She finally gave him a nod. "Okay."

T'Challa reached for her hand, raising it first and foremost to kiss the back of it. She awarded him a soft smile in return. "Beautiful bracelet," he remarked as he led her towards the dance by the hand. Citlalli could feel his thumb grazing over the feathered jade-colored bracelet he mentioned as well as her skin. A ploy she wasn't really against.

"Thank you," she said once they stopped together. He turned to face her, picking up her hand against to hold on their side. "Hand made," she would say as she moved her free hand over his shoulder. She swallowed hard when his free hand slid behind her back. He had the gentlest touch.

"You don't say?" T'Challa sarcastically asked, making her chuckle.

"My aunt made it for me a while ago. She tried to get the most precious stones to make it," Citlalli explained as they started swaying to the music. "She tried to make it like home," she added in a quieter tone. Her gaze fell for a moment. Home was a raw subject even years after everything had occurred.

"That was very kind of her," T'Challa's voice would pull her out of her moment. He didn't know how he did it but he was glad he did. Citlalli met his eyes. "I have heard terrible stories of adoptive parents and their respective families. You have no idea the relief it brings me to know that it was not your case."

Citlalli half-smiled at him. "You shouldn't feel anything," she told him. "You've only known me for a year. Everything that happened to me was a long time ago."

"If it pertains to your well being, I will," he clarified.

"You simply care too much but I suppose that's what will inevitably make you a good king," she shrugged. "And a good friend."

Friend. It stung even though she used it so kindly on him.

T'Challa surprised her with a twirl. It had her laughing when she came back to him, leaning on him. He was smug when he grinned. "I can be many things, Citlalli."

She had to agree there. She peeled herself off him and continued to sway kindly to the music. "A good dancer, amongst those. Did Shuri teach you some of those moves?"

"The fact that you think I could only be a good dancer is if my baby sister taught me is quite offensive," T'Challa bobbed head as if he was doing his own little dance to the song. Citlalli giggled. She hardly did that too so when she did, T'Challa relished it. He may replay it in his head a couple times too.

"I would never offend you, your majesty," she drummed her fingers over his shoulder. "...but did she?"

T'Challa's face fell flat. When Citlalli started laughing again, he surprised her with another twirl. This time when she came back to him, he made it so that they were closer than before. Their foreheads would nearly press with their inch gap. She smelled sweet and floral, intoxicating and addicting. How dare she walk around like that and expect him not to fall for her? Because that's exactly what happened to him. He craved her presence whenever she wasn't around, and it was unfortunately like that most of the time. Her visits to Wakanda were sporadic just as his were to America.

Citlalli was very aware of their closeness and as much as she told herself to step away, her feet were only responding to the rhythm of their dance. If she were to move just an inch, maybe half an inch, something would happen that should not...but it was something that she really wouldn't mind either. "Uuh...can we talk now?" she thought to ask. Her question, though asked in a whisper, was still enough to break their moment.

T'Challa stepped back from her and nodded at her. She took his hand, an act that made things a little better for T'Challa, and led him away from the dance. She found a nice place on one of the garden sitting walls.

"What is troubling you, Citlalli?" T'Challa asked as soon as they were comfortable.

"I was thinking about the last time we saw each other and...T'Challa, I am so sorry for the way I behaved what that jewelry stall."

"What—"

"You were being kind and no matter what, I should have appreciated it. I know I have a hard attitude and sometimes I don't realize it then but I'm really sorry."

"Citlalli," T'Challa touched her cheek, an act that left her frozen while he spoke, "There was no problem there. My plan simply didn't result, but it wasn't your fault."

"Plan?" Her face scrunched. "What plan?"

"My plan to show you the city, of course, and see your smiles."

Citlalli's eyes flickered to the side in thought. "I...do not understand. I thought I was apologizing, it's been gnawing at my head since it happened."

"Please let it go, I hold no resentment. As if I could ever do that with you," T'Challa flashed her a smirk. "You do not see it, do you?"

"See what?" Citlalli watched him carefully. Her nerves were rising and she wasn't even sure why. Nothing was happening.

T'Challa's smirk faltered and soon it turned into a sad smile. "Nothing. This conversation did steer us towards something I wasn't sure how to best introduce."

"What do you mean?" T'Challa motioned her to give him a second. He shifted to better face her then reached for something in his inside pocket. Citlalli watched him pull out a small box. She was startled when he held it out for her. "For me?" she pointed at herself with wide eyes.

"Yes, I chose it with great care. Open it."

Citlalli was hesitant at first but who could say no to him? She couldn't. She took the box from him and pulled it open. Her eyes widened even more when she saw a coil, double wrapped, snake bracelet tucked inside. It was golden with the stones of the snake head in her traditional color of turquoise. "This is beyond beautiful!" she gawked. "Where did you get this from?" It was hard finding those two colors together, she would know.

"I had this made for you," T'Challa explained, earning her fully stunned face. "I know that you always have a hard time finding things that are close to your home. Wakanda may be a place far away from where the Aztecs lived but I hope that this makes home feel a little closer."

Citlalli didn't know what she felt except for the stinging of tears in her eyes. "Oh...this is...T'Challa, you really didn't have to do this. I-I can't take this." She closed the box quickly and tried handing it back to him but he wouldn't take it.

"It's yours, Citlalli. The Serpent," he reminded her of her old name.

"I used to be," she corrected him.

"No, not 'used' to be. You were a warrior for your people and you're still a warrior today. You're just a little lost."

"A 'little'," Citlalli said bitterly, more to herself than anyone else.

"There is nothing wrong with being lost so long as you try to get back on the right path." T'Challa reached a hand over to her cheek and cleared off her tears. "I would like to help in any way that I can."

Citlalli sniffed. "Why?"

T'Challa tilted his head at her. "Because I want you to be happy. It could be selfish of me but...I would like to be the reason you're happy. Whatever it is, I'd like to be it." Citlalli softly smiled at him. That smile counted for millions. "May I?" He motioned to the box. She nodded and opened the box for him. He pulled out the bracelet and took her wrist, gingerly sliding the bracelet down her skin. His hand caressed her skin as he secured the bracelet around her wrist. Citlalli felt the shudders from his touch and wished time would slow so that his fingers could stay over her like that.

"Thank you," she said meaningfully. She could thank him for everything and it would still feel like it wasn't enough.

T'Challa was on the same page as her. "Thank you." He would never have the right words to express his gratitude for everything she'd done for him since the moment they met.

Citlalli shyly met his gaze, lips quirking into a small smile. Words weren't enough, but actions were. T'Challa's fingers came to her chin, gently pulling her forwards a bit. He leaned the rest of the way and pressed his lips against hers. Citlalli's eyes fell shut with the contact. Time did stop for them in the end. Her lips easily moved with his, discovering how truly soft he was. Everything about him was, even when those same lips were used to make sarcastic little comments every now and then. Little did she know that he thought the same thing of her. She was always professional, never saying the wrong thing. Sometimes, he wished he could get her to do loosen up and that was coming from him. Either way, however she was, he wanted her to stay just like that.

T'Challa pulled away first. He lowered his hand from her chin to her hand. He found her fingers to interlace with his and to his delight, she gripped his hand in return.

"You know, in my village, our stones were so beautiful and valued that we would use them in our conversations to refer to anything that we found precious." Citlalli's lips stretched into a wide smile. "To me, you're as precious as any one of those stones, even more." She touched his cheek, her fingers stroking a few gentle circles over his skin. "It's just hard to admit it with my hard attitude and all..."

T'Challa chuckled lightly. "You keep that hard attitude. I don't want to change anything about you." Citlalli chewed on her bottom lip while her insides desperately fought off the intense heat when T'Challa wrapped an arm around her waist. "My Serpent," he whispered fondly.

Citlalli brought her hands to her shoulders. "We're at a party—" Her laugh was muffled by another of his kisses. "Hardly the way a King would act, no?"

"I think I'm doing exactly what I should be doing," T'Challa said proudly. Citlalli playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Would you like to dance again?"

"I...guess..." The party did seem a more cheerful suddenly. Citlalli ended up nodding.

T'Challa let her go to stand up then offered her his hand. This time there was no hesitation when she reached out to take it. He pulled her up to her feet then kissed her hand.

She smirked. He saw her knees bending but this time, he couldn't stop her. She bowed. "Your majesty!"

"You did not—Citlalli!" He exclaimed. "Stop that!"

She giggled as she straightened herself up. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to catch me one day."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at her. She nodded proudly. "Oh..." He pretended to accept his defeat only to snatch her body and pull her up to him. She yelped with the sudden yank. "Look at that, I just caught you," he said innocently.

Citlalli took in a deep breath and rested her hands on his shoulders again. "Game on, your majesty."

"Game on..." T'Challa laughed. He cupped her face and planted another kiss on her, a longer one that would leave them both in need of air.

[bouwrites]

Fire Emblem: Nationality Adjectives

Okay, okay, so, I really should have done this before getting 50 chapters into a massive 3H fic, but instead I just did what felt right and struggled around ever using an adjective for Brigid people/things because, uh... I couldn’t figure it out. Hence doing the work now.

Anyway, quick preamble for clarity’s sake, nationality adjectives are just the adjectives used to refer to something or someone from a certain place. Id est, French is to France, Japanese is to Japan, or even more broadly, European is to Europe.

For use in fanfic, I’m attempting, mostly by looking at official real-world nationality adjectives (in my language, ofc) to figure out the correct* form the adjective (and noun!) would take for regions within the world of Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

*By correct, I mean the options that don’t sound horrible.

Please add your two cents, if you have any. Please. I’m actually begging. Anyway, under the read more because idk how long this is going to get.

Let’s start with the obvious. Some are canon within the game’s world, and thus whether real-world conventions apply or not doesn’t matter. So here’s the small list of Location : Adjective : Noun* in canon that I can come up with off the top of my head.

*A missing noun denotes that the noun is the same as the adjective.

Note: When I say “in canon” I mean it’s used to refer to at least one of the adjective/noun. With one exception, I don’t believe many will argue that they make sense as both, so I simply treat them as both. (Mostly because I can’t be bothered to comb through the entire game’s script picking out where what is used as nouns or adjectives.)

Abyss : Abyssian Adrestia : Adrestian Agartha : Agarthan Almyra : Almyran Dagda : Dagdan (also the name of their language) Duscur : ??? : Duscur Nabatea : Nabatean

Duscur, the only “non-standard” one, can also probably be used as the adjective, but all canon instances I managed to find in Dedue’s support logs were used as the noun. I would be happy to use Duscur as an adjective, and thus won’t explore it here, but I’m fully ready to accept arguments against it.

In a similar vein, but not quite as versatile as proper nationality adjectives, both the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance, to my memory, exclusively use “Kingdom” and “Alliance” in sentences where the possessive is necessary. (i.e. Fhirdiad, the Kingdom capital)

Now, let’s try to make some proper adjectives for both Faerghus and Leicester, as well as Brigid, Albinea, Morfis, Sreng, and Fódlan.

Note: If any of those locations have canon adjectives/nouns, please let me know! Also if I’m missing any locations.

(I know small-scale locations like cities/territories within each state also don’t have adjectives, but no one canonically seems to be very patriotic on that scale and identify with the broader term instead, so I’m not concerned with those. Feel free to add them if you want, though!)

The only super obvious one is Albinea : Albinean, and I’m pretty confident that no one will contest that even without diving in to real-world examples to compare what form the adjective should take.

From there, we’ll start with the most relevant and go outwards. Starting with Fódlan.

Note: I’m using this resource for the right adjectives/nouns for nationalities, so if I make a sweeping statement like “no country” or something of the like, what I’m referring to is specifically what is contained within that list.

Fódlan:

In-game, Dedue actually says, “...because I was unfamiliar with Fódlan speech.” Which surprisingly doesn’t tell us the name of Fódlan’s language, but rather says that “Fódlan” is the (or a) canon adjective.

That gives us Fódlan : Fódlan : ??? (Fódlan? In the same form as Duscur, perhaps.)

That said, I just... don’t really prefer it. So I’m looking for alternatives. My preferred form? Iceland. Iceland : Icelandic : Icelander, giving us Fódlan : Fódlandic : Fódlander. Now, Fódlan obviously doesn’t end with a “-d” but also, while many countries/regions end with “-an” none end with “-lan” and I, personally, just like the sound of Fódlander, even as the adjective. In fact, within my own in-progress fic right now, I currently have it as simply Fódlan : Fódlander, with no difference between the adj. and noun.

Looking at examples with “-an” endings to their region, we have Iran : Iranian, Japan : Japanese, or Pakistan : Pakistani to give us either Fódlanian, Fódlanese, or Fódlani. I’ve seen the latter two in fics before, but of the set prefer Fódlani myself.

And just for fun, most “-land” regions actually don’t use the “-lander” ending. Iceland is special that way, presumably because they didn’t want to call themselves Ices. Instead, it’s in the form of Poland : Polish : Pole, which, if we apply to Fódlan, would give us Fódlan : Fódlish : Fód which I would never dream of actually using, but does make me laugh.

Conclusion: This section is just my personal best options, in no particular order, laid out in a less cluttered format.

Fódlan : Fódlani Fódlan : Fódlandic : Fódlander Fódlan : Fódlander (No real-world basis, I just like it this way.)

Faerghus:

To my knowledge, the only countries that end in “-s” at all are Belarus and Honduras, so let’s just use those, and throw in Paris for fun. This will be shorter because we just don’t have much to work with, and I think the “best” form is a lot easier to agree on, anyway.

So, first option, Belarus : Belarusian which gives us Faerghus : Farghusian. Which works. There’s nothing wrong with it. But I’m not a big fan just because I prefer the next option so much more.

Interestingly, this is one I’ve seen in fanfic before, so it’s something currently in use by the community, at least to some extent. That is, Honduras : Honduran giving us Faerghus : Faerghan. Something about Faerghan just sounds right to my (American) ear, and again, I’ve seen it used in fanfic before. Honestly, it sounds so right that I’m not entirely convinced it’s not actual canon, but I also can’t recall it actually being used in canon, so... eh.

Conclusion: Just use Faerghus : Faerghan, it’s not that hard a conclusion to reach tbh. Unless you just like something else, I guess.

Leicester:

This is a problem for the simple fact that while there is an actual county in Britain called Leicestershire (and one called Gloucestershire), unless the British are a lot different from us Americans and they aren’t putting this information online, no one actually identifies anything by county.

Combined with the fact that the only countries that end in “-r” are Equador, El Salvador, and Madagascar, and I’m pretty sure any accurate comparison would need at least the “-ter” ending, this is going to be mostly just making up what feels right to me.

But for science, let’s go ahead and use those three for their conventions anyway, shall we?

Equador : Equadorian would give us Leicester : Leicesterian. Then we have El Salvador : Salvadoran to give us the slightly sillier Leicesteran. (I cannot not hear Listerine, lol.)

Alternatively, and this is a bold move, we could use Madagascar : Madagasy, which I frankly do not even know how to translate to Leicester because that form just doesn’t work with anything lacking the “-scar” ending, and I’m trying to compare them based on the “-r” alone. Still, I suppose with some finagling we can come to Leicester : Leicesy, or somewhat more sensibly Leicesty which is... surprisingly not horrible, but a zesty choice nonetheless.

On a more serious note, I’ve been using Leicester : Leicester : Leicesterman/woman because it’s just about the only thing I’ve thought of that doesn’t sound remarkably silly.

Conclusion: Use Leicester : Leicester : Leicesterman/woman.

(Or, if you want to meme the Golden Deer, Leicester : Leicesty. I am not recommending this.)

Brigid:

Ah, the reason I’m doing this work in the first place. I really should have done this before the Brigid arc in my fic but alas, here we are, doing this while I’m literally on the last chapter of it.

Anyway, since this list I have of real-world nationalities only has a single country ending in “-d” that doesn’t end in “-land” we’re going to just have to work with what we have.

The one example I have to work with? Chad. That gives us Chad : Chadian applied to Brigid is Brigid : Brigidian.

Which feels like something I’ve seen in fic before, but I can’t say with certainty. Now that I’m looking at that in the face, though, I want to posit for review the alternative Brigid : Brigidan, mostly just because that “-idi-” feels weird to me.

(Now I feel kind of silly. It’s really quite simple, isn’t it? I spent so long trying to figure this one out, positive that I’d find a better option, but... nah. Brigidan works, I think. Ironically, when I was looking through earlier chapters in my draft, I noticed that I had actually already used Brigidan in my story, despite me going so far out of my way to avoid using an adjective at all in my Brigid arc because I straight up forgot. F me, I guess.)

Conclusion: Use Brigid : Brigidan or Brigid : Brigidian, depending on your feelings about the letter I.

Sreng:

Another odd one, because there’s no good comparison, even in the vaguest sense. So, instead of doing comparisons to real places this time, I’m just going to throw a few of the common endings at it and see what sticks.

Sreng : Srengan/Srengian - Gives me fantasy name vibes, which I guess it is, but not location name vibes, and certainly not location adjective vibes, if that makes any sort of sense.

Sreng : Srengish : Sren??? - This is clearly reaching. And no, I will not even entertain Sren(g)man/woman.

Sreng : Srengi - I feel like I’ve seen this in fic before but cannot say for sure. Point being, though, it feels like something that reasonable people would say with their mouths, so it gets a full 5 stars from me.

Conclusion: Sreng : Srengi is the only viable option. Fight me.

Morfis:

Because Morfis doesn’t appear in my own fic, I have given this zero thought ahead of time. Also, I was 100% convinced - like, turned on my Switch and checked the actual game to be sure - that Morfis was spelled Morphis. Nope, it’s an f. Anyway, let’s gooo!

I guess the logical starting point would be the same place we went with Faerghus, with either Morfis : Morfisian or Morfis : Morfan but unlike Faerghus, Morfis actually already has that “I” there, so I think the alternative Morfian sounds a bit better.

Plus, Professor Byleth has already fished up half the pond’s population. We don’t need more fin.

Conclusion: Fish are friends. Morfis : Morfian

[yunhoway]

I want to request a enemies to lovers college scenario with Mingi💖 both of them having strong personalities

heheh ofc!!! hope you like this :D gosh this was supposed to be a timestamp but then i got carried away so....this is around 1k btw

~~~

Names were announced one by one as Yunho revealed every paper in the ballot box. Everyone in the room were anticipating for the results, for the top two candidates would represent the school’s debate team. As the papers in the box decreased, most of the members had an idea of who would get to represent. Except for the two people whose names have been mentioned repeatedly.

“It’s a tie!” Yunho happily announced. “That’s great then. This means that Y/N and Mingi will team up to—”

“There’s no way I’m teaming up with him!”

“What makes you think I want to team up with you?!”

A few members groaned upon seeing you and Mingi argued. But most of them had already grown accustomed to it, for it would be unusual if you two didn’t quarrel in the debate session. Amidst the squabble between the best players, Yunho sighed. Nevertheless, he was resolute in sending you two for the tournament since the voting was done in a democratic way.

“What?! No!” You exclaimed upon hearing his final words. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Yes I can!” The president asserted, surprising a few students since Yunho rarely raised his voice like that. It was clear to them that he was exasperated by the two of you. “I’m going to submit your names while you two figure out how to work together.”

Despite the days coming closer to the competition date, you and Mingi refused to work together as the two of you researched and crafted arguments on your own. This didn’t go unnoticed by Yunho, who had called the two of you in a separate meeting to see what you two had so far.

“You guys are going in different directions,” Yunho concluded once he read through the notes. “Did you guys even discuss about it?”

With lowered heads, neither you nor Mingi exchanged eye contact with the president as silence ensued. Eventually, a sigh left Yunho’s lips.

“I’m disappointed in you guys,” Yunho professed. “Is this how you’re going to act during the competition too? Do you want the other schools to laugh at how our best players suck at cooperating?”

A vibration from his phone interrupted his speech. Upon glancing at the message, Yunho sighed again.

“I can’t help you two,” Yunho said as he stood up, ready to leave the room. “You guys have to figure it out yourselves.”

When the room was only occupied by you and Mingi, you could feel the awkward tension in the air. You had to admit; you realised that you were acting childish all this while when you processed Yunho’s words. Mingi was also reflecting on his friend’s words, for he was also guilty in causing a rift between you and him.

“So, uhm...” Mingi cleared his throat. “I guess we should work together now huh...”

“Yeah, I guess...” You trailed off, eyes still on your fidgety fingers.

When you and Mingi met again in his apartment to discuss together, both of you were clueless as to how to begin the discussion. Your respectives notes were all laid out on the floor with Mingi’s. If it wasn’t for his roommate’s arrival, both of you would have continued staring at those pieces of paper wothout any words being exchanged.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” San greeted before approaching you two. “Are you guys trying to piece together the information or something?”

“Yeah!” Mingi exclaimed, thanking his roommate in his heart for the accidental inspiration. “By the way, there’s still some leftover food on the table.”

Once San left you two alone, Mingi started to put together the common themes. Eventually, you began to draw connections among those pieces of information, leading the two of you to build up the arguments.

“We did it!” You exclaimed once you and Mingi were done with the initial draft. Your hand was also raised naturally, prompting Mingi to high-five it in delight. When the two of you realised what you guys had just did, both of you retracted your hands almost immediately. Nonetheless, the smiles on your faces were difficult to hide.

As the competition date neared, the two of you also became closer. The frequent meetings in his apartment naturally drew you two close as you and Mingi grew comfortable with each other. You would often buy food beforehand, while Mingi would prepare a few movies to watch after finishing the practice for the day.

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Lying on the floor once practice was over, you threw the question at him. Mingi was about to play the movie, but your question had him ruminating quietly.

“Of course.” Mingi moved next to you, sitting beside you on the floor. “Besides, we have two stubborn players representing the school.”

His words brought a smile on your face as you chuckled. As your eyes eventually focused on his visage, a thought popped in your mind.

“Why are we fighting in the first place?”

“It’s our ego, Y/N,” Mingi answered in a heartbeat. “We’re too stubborn to admit defeat.”

“You seem to enjoy it,” you noted.

“Of course, it’s fun to see you mad.”

Mingi earned himself a slap on his thigh from you, causing him to yelp. Rubbing the spot in order to soothe the pain, he playfully pouted while muttering, “Meanie.”

On the day of the competition itself, your leg couldn’t stop fidgeting as you waited for your turn. Mingi had to hold your knee down so that your leg would stop shaking.

“We’re going to kill it.” Gripping your hand in a reassuring manner, he convinced you. “I’m very sure of it.”

Maybe it was his words which brought into existence. Nevertheless, you and Mingi had displayed an impressive performance. And when the judge  announced that your school would be moving to the next round, you and Mingi didn’t hesitate to celebrate by hugging each other.

“We did it!” Mingi exclaimed as he spunned you around in his arms. When he finally stopped, his eyes were glimmering as he looked at you.

“Shall we go on a date after this?” Even though Mingi proposed it without any difficulty, you could feel his heart palpitating rapidly. With a wide grin, you nodded enthusiastically, causing him to mirror your smile as well while the two of you were in your own little bubble among the contestants.

[cvenir]

here i am to introduce EIGHT characters that i actually thought i had already introduced lmao set me on fire !! but yay, take a look under the cut! ofc eventually proper bios will hit my pages and their tasks will expand much more on my children! as always, pinterests and songs are linked if u wanna go a lil deeper

just kidding i drafted that when i was aCTUALLY gonna do 8 but thankfully tea says she won’t accept me until i post 2 intros so yOU SHALL RECEIVE 2 RN and 8 later <33333 gotta keep y’all on your toes heh also i wrote niall’s in my journal on the plane so like... it’s not great (literally just bullets of sentence fragments) but wtvr that’s what bios are for amirite

NIALL O'DONOGHUE looks an awful lot like TARON EGERTON. HE is TWENTY-EIGHT and while they're ASTUTE, they have a tendency to get pretty ARDUOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to DON'T WANNA FALL IN LOVE by KYLE (ok his pinterest is incredibly unfinished look away)

v conflicting mix of soft and hard

king of suppressing his lowkey intense feelings

kinda awkward around others due to the fact that he spent his entire life reading, writing, and studying –– he rarely interacted with other people as a kid and this mostly continued into his adult life

sweet soft boi has a double masters in medieval and renaissance studies and french and romance philology; he’s working on his phd rn while interviewing to become an assistant professor at kola university

grew up w a single mom (never knew dad) and had no siblings so his childhood was even lonelier :////

so like mad libs = his bff :’(

well mad libs and the shoulder flashlight he invented for late night reading (shoutout to amy santiago)

v soft and passionate heart

loves intellectual discussions like my boi has v strong gemini/virgo/mercury influences –– and a libra (or taurus i haven’t decided yet) venus so waTCH OUT

takes friendship v seriously (love u grant <333 @mcnuggcts )

buttt he can be a giant asshole sorry i don’t make the rules

v organized and particular

and scared of getting close to people bc he’s so used to being alone ugh my son!!

but once you get in there you’ll see he’s a good guy like rlly is he just has a bad temper sometimes and can barely express any emotion but anger half the time :///

ISLA VARGA looks an awful lot like ALEXIS REN. SHE is TWENTY-TWO and while they're SAGACIOUS, they have a tendency to get pretty MACABRE. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to COOL GIRL by TOVE LO. 

so i’ve played isla before n i’m v sorry to do this but i feel hella lazy so i’m sORRY but here comes a fucking huge wall of text don’t look at me and don’t feel like u have to read it ://// all the triggers i tagged apply to her; she’s p dark so seriously do not read it if you think she will make you uncomfortable!!

to preface, isla is like the embodiment of all of the seven deadly sins, and i molded her a lot after amy dunne (scary, i know) and april ludgate (mostly amy tho april is just deadpan like she is –– when she’s being herself, that is), as she is an incredible pococurante yet perfectionist who borders on sociopathy

soooo this will make sense later but her real name is actually brigid (father’s surname idk) which she now uses as her middle name

so isla’s dad is a fucking rockstar !!! badass right. she’s half-siblings with hadley ( @ofadorations ) and colby ( @shtbgs ) but she actually never met her mom, something she’s not too pressed about

bc she was cute as a button, family friends decided to get her into the entertainment business as a child star almost as soon as she could walk –– she did it all, acted, modeled, danced, sang, she was literally hollywood’s little starlet and she hated every minute of it. the entertainment business loved who they created, but that girl was never her and it weighed deeply on her psyche.

when she was twelve, she decided to fake her own disappearance because she was fed up with everything –– she cut her hair to her ears, dyed it brown (and has continued to do so ever since) and sneaked her way to nyc hoping no one would recognize her

well someone did, and they happened to be a member of ruthless and organized mobs of the city –– in return for keeping her concealed, she pledged her devotion and became one of their most skilled and lethal honeytraps in the business (WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE BC THEY MADE HER START YOUNG I AM SO SORRY FOR WRITING THIS IT JUST PLAYS HEAVILY INTO HER CHARACTER)

along the way, members inevitably died –– people she was sworn to care for –– many times before her eyes as well, which only lead her to realize she enjoyed witnessing all sorts of death, even those of people she was supposed to “love”. emotion was almost nonexistent in isla’s childhood, a trait that bled into her character development.

she began to idolize the gang and its power, something she now craved. still, isla was doing a great job of portraying herself to those around her as a rosy, meek, baby-doll, when in actuality she was a child full of hate who would soon blossom into a young adult of the same tone. she became even more obsessed with death, fantasizing about it as if her unusual thoughts would make her less afraid when it came for her. 

eventually, as she grew older, she was accepted into the higher ranks of the mob; this couldn’t have made isla more content. the macabre girl was honored that someone else noticed her genius, the way she could predict things, assess situations, manipulate people to do her bidding. it was only right that she was initiated into a society that praised her for such harshness

but, as all things do, her time in the gang ended after ten years and isla did what she does best: disappeared. she’s relocated back close to home, kola california, and it’s only a matter of time before people and the industry realize just who she is

if she’s acting like her true self, she behaves like a negative, eldritch layabout who likes to watch others suffer (sounds extreme, i know). however, she rarely lets anyone see the real her, and instead accepts various facades in a big game –– the darkness is truly her personality, she’s not faking her cold demeanor. this image enables her to mask her true potential and the fact that she is unflaggingly loyal and cares about those she’s close to.

if i had to give her a label, it would probably be the pococurante (which is defined as: an indifferent person. possibly they’re bored, jaded or even been hurt. either way, they tend not to get attached to things and don’t show much enthusiasm, whether that’s on the outside or the inside, too)

on the other hand, she could be accurately summed up as an arcane, as she’s an enigmatic mystery and she prides herself on being a puzzle that several people have failed to solve. there are many sides to her personality; in some aspects, she’s very much an aesthete considering she spends a great deal of her time taking putting together outfits, so she has a very defined fashion sense and typically dresses like a princess half the time, which is very ironic considering her dark personality. she truly is so GLAMOROUS (and this is why i love alexis for her) and she works that mean girl, hard soul aesthetic while serving looks and also able to come across as incredibly sweet, which is perfect for her multiple personas. she’s a stunner, with both her appearance and personality; as much as she is indifferent and would prefer to fly under the radar, wherever she goes people always want to ask questions, making her into this intangible concept that everyone wants to define.

people will recognize parts of her as if they’ve seen here in another life, and because of her ostentatious, puzzling, and spellbinding personality, she’s unforgettable. on the other hand, she’s also something of a virago, due to the fact that she can be incredibly feisty when angered; but it takes quite a lot to actually set off her fuse, as she’s good at controlling which emotions she shares. for the most part, she is incredibly blasé and even-tempered. additionally, she’s is a bit of a picaro because her primary aim with her life at this point is to be independent and liberated from any and all attachments to other people. mostly, though, she’s is nothing more than a girl who’s afraid; of what, she still can’t decide.

all in all, she’s so much of everything that she isn’t quite certain of her own identity. her character is one shrouded in secrets and shadows yet alluring and sensual. but, lbr, most of all she’s just deadass terrifying. one of her defining characteristics is her desire to make things happen for her through her own abilities and determination. obstinate as all get out, she doesn’t like to own up to making mistakes so she tries to prove that she’s almost invincible to them bc she doesn’t wanna let anyone see her vulnerable, or she doesn’t want to let someone down - this refers only to those that she’s actually close to. due to her apathetic nature, all she really wants to do is let most people down – people she finds boring and useless – and have some fun because of it. however, when it comes to people she truly has allowed herself to care about, her deepest desire is for their happiness because they must be pretty damn special for making her give a shit.

still, because of her evasive tendencies, she almost always does ruin things for herself and for others, even when she actually cares. she’s like a double-edged sword; when she finds something worthwhile, she sees so much beauty and potential in it, but she’s got a midas touch. whenever she wants to obtain it or pursue it, her involvement makes everything fall to ashes, and she is afraid of her own influence. despite her tendency to run away, once she latches on and decides to be truly loyal, she’ll be devoted in such an extent that she would undoubtedly kill for them.

she can be a loudmouth whenever she actually decides to speak, constantly fabricating outlandish stories and even going off like a deranged person, but beneath her caustic and frightening exterior, isla is rather pensive. on the occasion that she chooses to offer legitimate advice, it’s usually very elaborate and composed. still, she doesn’t want people to know about capable she is, or how intelligent she can be, so she hides her rare brilliance with a tough exterior and stoic personality.

idk if you can tell but i like diving into the specifics of my character like their star signs and stuff so i searched an amy dunne mbti and tweaked it bc it really helped describe her even further! she’s a intj !

introverted intuition (ni): isla sees everything around her in a world of symbols, of metaphors, and of potential. her narration will continually be littered with predictions, with ideas about how things are going to be and what will result from this or that. despite her brashness that some may assume is impulsivity, she is a planner, anticipating new “problems” and seeking to rectify them with her own twisted brand of justice. she tries to work everything into her overall system of understanding, of her big ideas about how the world works, including her take on her various false identities she possesses for her previous job as an escort but also to mess with the minds of others around her. she’s always disappointed by how the real world is never as good as the way she imagined it; she is perfect and nothing else can catch up with her expectations.

extroverted feeling (fe): despite her aloofness, and rather lack of any sort of emotional bearing, empathy, or any sort of true feeling, isla is conscious of how others’ perceive her, of the image she’s created, and of how key that social perception is to her success, even if it’s just in her own imagination. she restrains her real opinions in order to adapt to her environment, as she’s somewhat of a chameleon, only a few have had a chance to catch the true witch beneath the crown. she’s the mistress of change, easily altering her identities in order to better fit in with new people, should the situation require it. she’s easily devastated when she reveals her real personality to others, as in the past, some that she’s left truly see her have refused to accept her twisted true-self. even though she is wholesomely selfish and self-seeking, isla is very people-focused, and applies most of her intellect and analysis onto general people-based functions, that may she can have the confidence that she has clearly manipulated and analyzed every aspect of her environment, as she needs this to feel in control.

introverted thinking (ti): as mentioned, isla is highly analytical, always trying to see the why of a scenario, what’s behind human behavior, which turns her attention to psychology and manifests in her flair for anticipating the thoughts and actions of those around her; she is so obsessed with understanding why people tick that she looks past her own slighted judgment, as she herself could easily qualify as a sociopath/psychopath. she’s always trying to fit in any new experience, or piece of information, into her pre-established system of facts, and as such is rarely ever surprised. despite her apathy and lack of care for her life or how it progresses, she’s highly organized and loves to make checklists, arrangements for the future, and methodically ticks of her obligations, one by one. while her emotions and feelings are significantly suppressed, and even nonexistent, she makes up for that human trait with a very powerful mind, one that is quick to learn and adept with languages, memorization, and logic. however, she doesn’t want anyone to know just how brilliant and quick she is, as it’s her greatest asset, thus explaining why she chose not to be a member on the intellectual team.

extroverted sensing (se): isla tends to respond her physical environment with fierce analysis, as expressed in her intellectual capabilities. she’s almost incapable of living in the moment, contrary to how people suspect she is, considering she portrays herself as impulsive and cunningly excitable. in reality, though, even when she’s crossed off everything on her checklist, she’s almost incapable of relaxing, or enjoying the world around her, as she doesn’t find things that other people find beautiful. she struggles the most with the physical side of her plans, even though she is a very physical individual. she is very open with her body and indulges with the lusts of the flesh, as she sensuality is at the same level as her wickedness. along with this, isla craves for the environment that houses her figure to be pleasant and organized, and can’t stand when things are out of order.

[granteares]

@seguins tagged me to do a wip meme thing thank u mina !!! rules: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

dear god this is gonna be long sorry

grantaire/enjolras: college radio au that i have on my ao3 but am planning on revamping and finishing... eventually... one of these decades... the triumvirate has a political show on their college’s radio and grantaire is an asshole who pranks them.

kent/alexei: “what it means to crush” ofc my fake dating fic already started on ao3 where alexei asks kent to be his fake boyfriend not knowing kent has a huge fuckin crush on the guy and shenanigans shall ensue

kent/swoops: soft smutty boys based on a request i got from an anon ages ago (’:

kent/swoops: accidentally wearing each other’s jerseys bc they’re idiots how do you expect to keep a relationship secret like that

kent/swoops: swoops gets traded to the falcs and they have to try to handle a long distance relationship bc kent is not gonna break up with the best thing that ever happened to him!!

kent/swoops: erika and i started plotting out a fake marriage fic that we want to collab on and that definitely should still be written one of these days

kent/alexei: kent has a teenage daughter as a result of getting way too plastered the night of the 2009 draft. alexei is planning on retiring soon and finally bucks up the courage to ask kent out before he potentially loses the chance forever. cue the angst of trying to make a long distance relationship work while dealing with a salty teenager who’s like “haha no ur not my dad bye” @ alexei but also fluffy moments ofc

kent/alexei: musician!kent au where kent is the frontman of a local angsty punk band and he meets alexei when he and a few of the other falcs come into the bar kent and his band are doing a gig at. and, well, kent is definitely interested in getting to know a giant attractive hockey player with an accent.

kent/alexei: alexei is staying in vegas while he’s injured and swoops lets himself into kent’s condo while kent is out and OOPS their relationship has been a secret up until now kent has some explaining to do.

kent/alexei: i just started a little one shot of a flash forward of a flower shop au i have posted on my ao3 and it’s just a soft silly fic of kent realizing that alexei has been hiding having his jersey for like. a year.

kent/alexei: alexei got drafted the same year as kent but they never really have interacted much. yet alexei always seems to be in the right place at the right time when kent needs help. kent doesn’t get it but he’s kind of grateful for his guardian angel.

tagging @jackzimmerdad @vivalamusaine @theblazeofmemory if you wanna!! and uh, idk, anyone else who writes that might want to do this xx