#and start writing fourteen x donna x fifteen

[paradox-n-bedrock]

they really doubled down on the whole "Fifteen has no home" bit. in Church on Ruby Road, he says he has no family. and then in Space Babies, he launches into a whole little monologue about how he has no people, no boss, no taxes, no rent, no bills to pay, no cause or purpose.

and every. single. time. they mention something like this, i flash back to where we last left Fourteen. with everything, barring a boss unless you count Donna.

i cannot wait to see Fifteen with Rose Noble but i am going to sob if we keep getting this kind of energy. like the visceral knowledge that the rest of his family is right there and he can't go back to them? help me, my heart cannot take this.

[amandaoftherosemire]

Lightning Strikes -- Part Fifteen

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Thor Odinson X Reader (Series)

Characters: Loki Odinson

Author: @amandarosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,102

Format: Series WIP

Warning: Angst, language, more Loki.

Summary: You try to get a straight answer out of Loki about what is happening to you. Loki doesn’t totally lie his ass off, for once.

A/N: Loki strikes again and derails my plans for this story. The human tendency for dual-mindedness is an amazing thing. Knowing that I’m in control of all of this does not in any way lessen the feeling that Loki is an active participant in the writing process with his own agenda. He’s such a pain in my ass. The point is that I was planning to move on from Loki, and back to Thor (finally) but Loki’s not having it, apparently. Ugh. Prima donna.

<Lightning Strikes -- Part Fourteen here

 Caustic

When you awoke a couple hours later, you found yourself laying along Loki's side, your head pillowed on the once again pale skin of his chest. With one arm, he cradled you easily against his still cold body, but in his other hand he held a book. Propped up against the mound of pillows at the head of his bed, he looked so serene in this moment, you found yourself reluctant to disturb him.

Loki was feeling serene, content in a way he couldn't ever remember feeling before. Such things weren't generally in his nature, but the sensation of your body resting against his in sleep was both sweet and satisfying. Regardless of your exhaustion, he knew you would never allow yourself this vulnerability unless you trusted him, at least, to not harm you. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

He'd been more honest with you today than he had been with anyone in a long time. When you'd lost your temper the moment you'd laid eyes on him, it had taken everything he had to keep silent and still. He'd felt oddly obligated, however, to let you vent your anger; he couldn't deny you had a right to far more than merely a few slaps. Keeping that in the forefront of his mind had made it easier to bear the brunt of your hatred.

What made it most difficult was that he'd wanted you the moment he'd opened the door to see you, all of you, standing on the other side. With the real, whole you looking out at him, all he could imagine was placing his lips on yours, breathing your breath. Holding himself back from snatching you up into his arms, stopping himself from using the cold to seduce you into moaning mindlessness, had been excruciating. Loki was not used to denying himself what he wanted. Only the way he felt about you, the twinge of remorse he felt at the things he had done to you, restrained him.

He had been utterly sincere when he'd expressed both empathy and remorse for your heartbreak. He had no interest seeing you hurt, had genuinely not cared how you amused yourself with your boyfriends. Even should you choose to extend that amusement out for the length of their lifetimes, the prospect didn't give him pause. Loki had plans for the two of you that would take decades to come to fruition. He had plenty of time. 

He felt the change in your body signaling the end of your nap and his reprieve. He wondered how you'd surprise him now.

"Oh. Boo." You murmured it, the dismay ripe in your voice, when his gaze flicked from his book to you, emerald green caressing your face. "The Pretty Lying Bastard is back."

"What does that mean, my love?" He couldn't stop himself from smiling at the acerbic tone to your voice. He’d always liked you best when you were strong and sarcastic.

The smile fell from his lips when you pushed yourself to a sitting position, bringing yourself closer to eye level with him. You turned to fix him with a bleary-eyed, yet still suspicious glare. "I like Loki better blue and honest," you replied, your voice rough from sleep, but utterly serious in tone.

"The two are not related." As often happened, Loki's mood flipped, and his voice turned dark and cold. You ignored it, merely lifting a brow in response, unafraid of his moods or whims. You had seen the bottom of the well of grief. Loki had no more power to harm you mentally or emotionally and he was entirely too concerned with your well-being to be willing to harm you physically. You wondered if you were building an immunity to his poison.

Even if you were, it didn’t change all of the other things tearing at your heart. You sighed, still heartsick at the loss of your boys, certain you still would be in those thousand years. You knew now why you'd been so certain you couldn't resist Loki. Not because you lacked the willpower, or the inclination, but the incentive.

Part of you had known you couldn't keep them, had acknowledged it even as you'd ignored that the potion had destroyed that chance; you'd wanted that life badly enough to lie to yourself. You couldn't blame Loki when you'd known better from the beginning but had ignored what you didn’t want to see.

"I never thought for a moment that they were." Your lips curved slightly, and your tone remained mild, though the melancholy was an undercurrent to every word. You were calm and cool once more. Whether that was the cold, the purge of emotion, the nap, or a combination of all three you weren't sure and didn't care. All that mattered was that you were back in control.

"Get off your high horse,” you sneered as you rolled your eyes and snagged one of the fifteen or so blankets tossed across the bed. Reclining against the pillows next to him, you went on airily, "The only two times I've seen your blue form was when I was about to die. It's not my fault that makes you feel guilty enough to stop lying for five damn minutes." As you spoke, you covered up and got comfortable, intending to get as much information as possible out of Loki while he still had that guilt nipping at his memory.

"What is this?" You tilted your head when Loki tossed his book aside as he turned to his side to face you, propping his head on one hand. The nonchalant way you reacted to his true form made him tremble deep inside. He ignored the feeling, telling himself he’d think about it later. He’d much rather focus on the casual demeanor you’d adopted now.

"This is not humor," as he spoke his eyes searched your face, seeking to understand what mood you’d come to, "nor is it hate." His hand came up, fingers whispering across your cheek as his lips curved slightly. "I hope it isn't surrender."

Your hand came up to swat his away. "Shut up." When his grin flashed, your eyes narrowed. "This is a détente, a temporary truce while I recuperate." Now that you weren't exhausted, you were having a harder time ignoring the cold beckoning from Loki's body.

The sensation of his fingers on your skin had pleasure immediately singing in your mind; you'd had to knock his hand away, too easily swayed by the cold. You could still feel it emanating from his body, even through the space between you, and the temptation to coil and curve around him was painful. "I am so angry at you, Loki." Your voice was hot and harsh with banked rage, but you didn't know if you spoke to inform him or remind yourself.

"As well you should be," Loki replied, his eyes glittering. The urge to touch you was nigh overwhelming, but you'd made your preference clear. "I have been callous with you, thoughtlessly cruel.” That glitter softened with what looked like real remorse. “I am sorry, my love. I… miscalculated.”

"And that is the reason for the détente." You sneered, thinking his choice of words was telling. That it sounded like a 'sorry you got offended' kind of apology made it easy to brush aside. "You are, at least, saying that you're sorry. Even if you don't mean it, it’s a pleasant lie.”

Loki's eyes flashed in what looked a lot like hurt and insult, and you felt guilty for being cruel. The next moment, you were swamped by a wave of resentment at the very idea that you should feel guilty for anything when it came to Loki.

The mood swings were swiftly making you tired all over again. You sighed, certain you wouldn’t get a straight answer but needing to try. “Why, Loki? Why did you do this to me? I could have been happy with my boyfriends,” you used his snotty intonation on the word, “for a normal, human lifetime and never looked back.”

“Oh, please,” he rolled his eyes and flopped onto his back, impatient with the very idea. “I’m making you a goddess and you’re complaining about lost nights in front of the television with the soldiers.”

“Well, we do TV night a little different,” you purred smugly, testing his statement regarding jealousy even as your heart ached.

The arched brow he shot your way as he put his arms behind his head told you he knew to what you were referring. You, Steve, and Bucky hadn’t yet made it through a movie without someone’s wandering hands diverting everyone’s attention. You wondered which evening he’d peeked on; their couch had been the site of any number of deliciously debauched scenes, the fulfillment of your fantasy regarding Steve in your mouth while Bucky fucked you from behind, for instance.

“Yes," he said, amused, "I have inadvertently checked on you while you were occupied with your boyfriends." His face spread in a mischievous, appreciative grin. "You are… enthusiastic, and highly entertaining.”

“Pervert.”

Loki frowned, not at the insult, but at the mild tones and almost affectionate smile with which you softened it. You'd decided to try a more conciliatory attitude, for the moment at least, in the hopes that you could charm him into giving you more information on your current predicament.

Rather than approach your confusing mood directly, Loki opted to go along with it. “If you were in my shoes," he retorted, turning back to his side to face you, one arm under his head, one arm coming down to drape over his waist, a smile starting to play around his lips, "and you happened upon a scene such as that, tell me you would have turned and left immediately.” The mocking doubt in his tone made it clear what answer he expected.

Your lips twitched as you deliberately drug your eyes from the fascinating play of muscle in his arms and chest as he moved, turning to your side to blink at Loki, your expression innocent as a summer sky. “Of course I would.” Your voice could not have been more surprised, as though you were shocked at the very idea that you would violate someone's privacy, even for a moment.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. When you'd turned your face to his, the sweetness of having you, the whole you, in his bed rocketed through him so that he couldn't look away. You were gazing into him with such intensity, he couldn't help but wonder what you saw when you looked at him.

“Liar.”

His voice held such a wealth of offense in that one quiet word, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He was right; you probably wouldn’t have stopped watching right away, either, no matter how your conscience complained.

The sight of you dissolving into laughter made his heart flutter in his chest. He'd missed you more than he liked to admit. He wasn't entirely certain he hadn't ended the spell simply because he couldn't stand being without you another moment.

“Besides, it was more entertaining than watching Thor mope around about you, again, still." He dismissively waved the hand not under his head, but you could swear you caught a touch of censure in his gaze and wondered at it. "Are you ever going to put him out of my misery and end it, once and for all? Or are you going to keep him on a lead for the foreseeable future?"

"I'm not keeping hi--" You cut yourself off, knowing he was trying to draw you into an argument, but unwilling to oblige when you saw no reason for it, especially when you didn’t have the high ground. "That’s bait." You said it firmly, determined to not get sidetracked. You had far more important things to discuss with Loki and your relationship with his brother was not one of them, if for no other reason than it was none of his business. "Go back to the part where you’re ‘making me a goddess.’ The fuck does that mean?"

Loki was amused, but mostly with himself. He'd considered you formidable when you still somewhat trusted him. Now that he'd lost that tenuous faith, you were that much more difficult to distract. Nothing less than a measure of the truth would satisfy you in this mood. He shrugged inwardly; it wasn't as though you hadn't more than earned it.

"On Jotunheim," he sighed, reluctantly, "they have their own goddesses." You felt as though every atom of your body was focused on Loki. You could hear the ring of truth in his voice and wondered if you'd finally reached something real. You could see in his eyes the shine of genuine emotion, and you'd swear it looked like pain. "The tears of a goddess of ice, of grief, from a land of perpetual winter, are the foundation of the potion I gave you."

He continued to lay, lazily indolent, even as you lifted to a sitting position, though he rolled to his back to keep facing you. You stared at him, propped against overstuffed pillows, amongst the lush green silk and golden velvet indulgence of his bed, looking as relaxed as any pampered prince, but you could see the tension in the fine tremor almost hidden in the flutter of his eyelashes. He smiled in an attempt to mask the nerves he felt at the look on your face, irritation flaring your nostrils.

"Loki." You closed your eyes in sheer frustration. Even when Loki seemed to be telling the truth, he had to be overdramatic about it. "Will you, please," the word held an ocean of repressed aggravated rage, "stop dicking around for five fucking minutes and tell me what’s fucking happening to me?"

Loki could tell by the increase in your Fucks Per Minute that you were at the edge of your patience. His eyes unfocused as he remembered a world scoured by ice, where he'd found his own loss and betrayal. He lifted his hand to trace the line of your jaw in regret for how he'd treated you. "'A drop, and an hour is a day. My Lady's tears slow the fastest fluttering heart.'" When your jaw locked and your eyes widened in the first red flag that you were five seconds away from losing your temper again, Loki spoke quickly to head off your rage. He was concerned that another bout of either fury or tears would break you entirely.

"The truth, my love, is that I’m not entirely sure." He held up his hands in surrender, trying to keep you calm as he explained. "If I had been the first and only person to touch you after you took the potion, things would have been very different. Instead…" He shrugged and put those hands behind his head, trailing off rather than mention, yet again, your habit for unpredictability.

You ignored him, your frustration forgotten as your mind clicked into gear, making logical leaps and connecting dots of information. "Thor," you murmured as you thought of the night you took the potion, the memory of Thor's glowing eyes and the feeling of electricity dancing over the surface of your skin, your heart racing in response. Your eyes lifted and narrowed on Loki's face, still on guard against a lie. "The lightning."

Loki loved watching your mind work, adored seeing how easily you grasped what he didn't say, though the quickness of your brain caused him no end of trouble. It was abundantly clear how little you trusted him, though he could hardly blame you for it. Still, he missed the days when you’d both enjoyed the playfully adversarial tone of your friendship, hated that you now found his presence painful.

He could also see clearly how difficult he would find it to convince you of any of that. Thanks to that agile mind, the excuses and rationalizations he could offer for why he acted both for you, but also, admittedly, in his own self-interest, would fail to persuade, no matter how silver-tongued he was purported to be. He reminded himself that he had a very long time to worm his way back into your good graces, however, starting with a little honesty.

"You are becoming a goddess," he explained, adoring the expression of reluctant fascination moving over your face, "mostly of ice, but you may need more than cold to become everything you could be." He loved how you listened to everything he both said and didn't say and wondered when you'd come back to the part about a 'goddess of grief', worried about when you'd connect that to some of the other things he'd done.

Loki's mouth spread in a charmingly wicked grin when you shot him a suspicious look, unsure he was saying what you thought when it seemed like exactly the kind of thing he would lie about, but rather to hide the information, not reveal it. He seemed to be suggesting that you seek out Thor's lightning the way you sought his own cold. You didn't get a chance to think further about it, however, because he was suddenly surging upward to take your shoulders in his icy hands.

"My turn," he growled, emerald green piercing as his gaze searched your face. "Why didn’t you have the oaf break the spell?" He spoke quickly, while you grappled with the other things he'd confessed, in the hopes that he could catch you off guard.

You blinked at him, surprised by the question, though you'd wondered if he'd suspected you'd been planning on going to Thor as a last resort. You decided to give him the very thing he hoarded like gold, the unvarnished truth, despite how vulnerable it made you feel. "I didn’t want to have to escape. I wanted you to let me go."

Loki's hands tightened around your shoulders, an angry scowl darkening his features as he pulled your face closer to his. "Why?"

The harsh tone to his voice, hurt barely masked by confusion, softened your fury with him by an iota. It was enough that you continued to give him the truth, despite knowing it would only encourage him. You sighed, irritated with yourself for being too easily swayed where your heart was engaged. "Because I wanted to be able to forgive you someday."

The grip Loki had around your upper arms loosened in surprise. As soon as he was no longer holding you upright, you let yourself fall back onto the bed. You lay against the mound of pillows, throwing your arm over your eyes to hide, whether from Loki or yourself you weren't sure anymore.

You lay there, in silence, tired, heartbroken, and frustrated with the both of you. You didn't know who was irritating you more at the moment, Loki for being Loki or yourself for being entirely too susceptible to him. Between the love you couldn't kill and the cold you couldn't resist, you couldn't make yourself get out of the damn bed and leave already. Hell, at this point, you weren't certain whether the cold or the man held more allure for you. Either way, you couldn't find it in yourself to walk away.

The cold alone was nearly irresistible, especially after such a long time between treatments. You wondered if the potion had given you an addiction to the arctic sensations that ran over your skin every time he touched you. If so, you were afraid you were a full-blown junkie, and Loki was, unfortunately, your dealer.

Also like a drug, something about the cold made you feel better, even from a distance. You studiously ignored the voice in your mind that suggested it would feel better if you got closer.

You made yourself stay in place, refused to allow yourself to turn to Loki for comfort, to let him touch you. You knew better, knew that taking comfort from him was dangerous territory, the first step to allowing yourself to trust him. Trusting Loki, even a little, was the fastest way to ruin. You knew all of that, but the seemingly genuine remorse, seemingly genuine pain, was lowering your defenses.

That Loki seemed genuine in general made you wonder if you'd finally gotten something resembling truth for once. Attempting to distract yourself from the ache around your heart at the thought, you tried to catalogue what Loki had told you versus what you believed to be the truth beneath it.

According to Loki, and your gut that he was being honest in this one case, you needed the cold to stay alive. And, as heartbroken as you were, grieving the end of your love affair with Steve and Bucky, you wanted to stay alive.

You'd also learned that Loki's potion had not gone according to his original plan, thanks to your drunken shenanigans, though he was being annoyingly vague as to how. You couldn't be even a little sad to hear it, no matter how it complicated things. You much preferred it, and him, when he wasn’t entirely in command of a situation.

Your occasional penchant for contrariness had also given you unexpected leverage against Loki in this battle of wits and wills. He'd tried to sideline his brother at the beginning of the game, but you'd found a way put him back in, intentionally or not. If you knew Thor at all, and you did, he'd be delighted to be the stick you used to beat Loki over the head. The part that puzzled you was why Loki had admitted to it.

Almost everything Loki had said and done over the course of this strange afternoon puzzled you, actually. Though you had often suspected him of half-truths during the course of your confrontations, you didn't get the impression that he had straight-up lied at any point. You knew him to be a dangerously accomplished liar, however, so you couldn't be sure that he hadn't simply succeeded in deceiving you.

Whatever he might believe, he had not succeeded in deceiving you regarding the importance of his admission that the potion had farther reaching effects than simply extending your life. You had no doubt now that he had far more ambitious plans for you than he was willing to admit. He had no need to make a goddess of one he only wanted as a pet.

Loki's sigh of sadness broke your concentration, but you didn't move your arm from where it hid your eyes from his frustratingly impenetrable gaze. You reminded yourself that you had plenty of time now, both for self-reflection and for discovering and foiling Loki's plots and schemes.

Right now, it all sounded exhausting.

"I have a confession," Loki said, softly. He paused, unsure, until you uncovered your face and looked at him, your expression serious, but calm. "I have to admit that I lied earlier.” The sheepish grin that touched his mouth would have amused you once.

“You?" You gasped slightly, laying your hand over your heart, the sarcasm thick. "Lied? Say it ain’t so.”

He continued to smile, though the corners were touched with the same sadness that you'd heard in his sigh. You realized, as your heart hurt a little in response, that it didn't seem to matter how angry you were with him, you still didn't like to see him in pain.

Loki laid down next to you on his back, the ache in his throat making it too difficult to look at you any longer. The sight of you amongst the pillows and blankets of his bed where he'd had you over and over again, yet still as untouchable to him as ever, cut him to the quick. He didn't know how to tell you, or if he even should, that he'd do it differently, perhaps be more honest with you, if he had it to do over again.

He pushed that thought aside. He didn't believe in looking behind him, long ago accepting that there was no going back, only forward, damn the consequences.

“I am a little jealous of your boyfriends." You thought he was using his mockingly bored tone at first and considered hitting him for bringing up Steve and Bucky again. You turned your head, a sneer forming on your face until you saw he was studiously not looking at you, keeping his gaze on the ceiling above him. "I only touched the shell." Your eyes narrowed at the wistful sound to his voice. "They get all of you. I cannot help but wonder what that’s like.”

“Take your other form and I’ll show you.”

Lightning Strikes -- Part Sixteen here> (Coming soon!!)

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[madame-mozart]

some characters based off some barbie (and other) dolls i had as a kid

Recently, I went through some of my old drawings and writing pieces that I made back in the day. If you remember one of my old Mary Sue OCs, Becky Willow (example posts here: [x] [x] [x] [x]), apparently, she had quite a large family (and like one friend that I could remember off the top of my head)! I started to revisit them a bit and made them these little profile card things, which I’ve originally posted to my Pinterest! (Part 1 here | Part 2 here)

Here’s Becky herself! I’ve already talked about her a bit in my previous posts with her, but in short, she’s a sixteen year old tryhard who is super popular both in and outside of school, and everyone loves absolutely everything she does. Yeah, MARY SUE.

Becky’s mom. Married three times and lives separately from her current husband with her kids. I didn’t have any male dolls back in the day, so Dee Dee was kind of touted as this “proud” and “independent” woman who was extremely wealthy and didn’t need no man to raise a bunch of kids. I don’t know why, but she for some reason also comes off as a gold digger. 😂 Fun fact, I could never decide whether to name her just “Donna” or “Daria”, so I have now just smushed them together and slapped on the cute little “Dee Dee” nickname.

Becky’s oldest sister, who is nineteen years old. I always had this subplot involving her having twin babies, and I distinctly they were named after this “Kelly Cooper” character from iCarly since that was a show I liked back in the day. I barely remember anything about Melody herself, so for her “revamp”, I’ve just decided to put her in college and she occasionally visits her family. Oh, and she always has her mom and sisters take care of her babies. Great mom, right?

Becky’s second oldest sister at seventeen years old (younger than Melody). Dear god, I remember this character so clearly because of her STUPID SNOWFLAKE-SOUNDING NAME. She was the “glamour girl” of the family who was popular in school and everyone either respected her or feared her. She’s basically just a stuck up queen bee.

Becky’s younger sister at fifteen years old. Ironically, the doll she was based on was named “Skipper”, which I actually gave to a DIFFERENT character. I think “Stacey”/”Stacy” is the name of another one of Barbie’s sisters too, if I’m not mistaken. I don’t think I ever did much with Stacey back in the day, but I lowkey like her physical design, so I’ve actually revamped her into a decent character who is probably the most sane one in her family. She just wants to get through life and school and just so happens to have weirdo sisters that she both has to constantly control and loves in an odd way. She doesn’t want to be judged for having a similar personality to her sisters, but she doesn’t want to be seen as some kind of “not like the other girls” showoff, either. I’d hang out with her, wouldn’t you?

Another of Becky’s younger sisters who is fourteen years old and also the youngest child of Dee Dee and her first husband. I think the doll she was based on was actually a Barbie knockoff, but as a young’un, all I cared about was her huge wardrobe pack! Her revamp basically reflects this as she likes to suck up to and copy her older sisters just to get popular (well, besides Stacey, for the most part) and even has the largest wardrobe out of all the members of her family.

Becky’s younger half sister who is eight years old and also the oldest child of Dee Dee and her second husband! She does happen to share the same name as her doll counterpart. Nothing much else to know about her other than her tagging along with her older sisters and having self-esteem issues, comparing herself to her younger sisters.

Skipper and Merliah are also Becky’s younger half siblings who are identical twin sisters and the youngest of her immediate family (yeah, I gave the “Skipper” name to a McDonald’s toy, sue me). I don’t remember much about them either, so for their revamps, I just opted for the trope of twins being polar opposites: Skipper is tomboyish while Merliah is girly, though both are equally spoiled brats.

I don’t know why these two were apparently part of the family, but they were, so I’ve just decided to make them honorary adopted sisters of Becky. Veronica was kind of touted as this “bully” who thought she was tough stuff while Vivian was the sheepish pushover who sort of just went with it for whatever reason. They still have this dynamic in their revamps, but they also get along well with Chelsea, Skipper, and Merliah depending on their personalities.

These two were also part of the family, but considering they don’t have unnatural hair colors, I’ve settled for making them being Becky’s cousins who have been taken in by Dee Dee because their parents are just for whatever reason not in their lives. I don’t remember doing much with them, but you know what, their dolls are kinda cute compared to Barbies, so they’ll be decent characters. They recognize that Stacey’s the voice of reason in this family so they mostly stick to her, but for the most part, they’re just trying to make it through life as well.

Last but not least, Becky’s friend (who is also fifteen years old, same as Stacey) who literally deserved BETTER. Funny story behind the doll she was based on, she was my only African American doll whom I literally forced to play the role of a MALE at one point and actually LOST it when I took it outside to play Barbies with my friends and I’m pretty sure I literally chucked her into a bush or something. I could never find her since. Poor thing, she was abused so much. So you know what, I’ve decided to kind of write that into her character as a former best friend of Becky’s (and her sisters) when they were in elementary school, only for her to move away and reunite with them when they happen to go to the same high school. Unfortunately for Trina, Becky and her sisters have gone down the dark path of superficial queen bee popularity and are too air-headed to remember her... that is, save for Stacey. The two have rekindled their friendship and have even grown a little closer as a result... 💕 The Stacina ship has sailed, y’all. I don’t make the rules.

---

Most of the assets in each picture (background/other little images) were found on Google Images and put together using Pixlr. The girls themselves were created with Highrise’s Dream Avatar Maker.