#asgardian shenanigans

[mf-headcannontap]

MARVEL Headcannon #7:

It was basically confirmed in the Loki series that what passes as candy on Asgard was fruits and nuts. It can be implied that before coming to Earth, dessert for these two would be fruit tarts and fruit cake.

That being said, this is why Thor took such a strong liking to Pop Tarts and why the day the Avengers showed Loki sugar is one that must never be spoken of ever. Let's just say, a kid in a candystore was a more than apt description of what transpired, and there was a reason why Loki had such restricted access to grapes and nuts (and why when pretending to be Odin they indulged on these), a Chaos God on sugar is stuff of nightmares.

Also, Tony will forever be blamed for showing Loki chocolate. The day Loki discovered Chocolate Fountains was a day that still brings chills to those who remember having to separate Loki from it and wrangle the slippery, sugar high god.

[cece693]

He's Cute

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: you're Loki's brother, but actually nice and come in peace, bucky finds you adorable, humor, asking out a prince from another planet is hard, just ask bucky, part 2 can be done

Tony tapped his fingers on the conference table, wearing his best ‘well, here we go again’ scowl. In front of him, the Avengers were assembled, all shooting wary glances at Thor. “So,” Tony drawled, making sure to emphasize his skepticism, “we’re hosting another Asgardian prince. Is your father just collecting them at this point?”

Thor, doing his best not to look offended, cleared his throat. “I know you hold distrust after what Loki did, but (Y/N) is our younger brother. He’s quite the opposite from Loki.”

Clint quirked a brow, exchanging a glance with Sam. “‘Opposite’ how? Less shape-shifting and more interpretive dance, or…?”

Sam snorted. “I’d pay to see that, actually.”

Thor, for his part, stood straight-backed, looking earnest—and maybe just a little bit offended. “I assure you, (Y/N) is not here to conquer anything,” he reiterated. “My brother is gentle. He's nothing like our brother Loki."

Tony drummed his fingers on the table one more time. “Yeah, we’ll see. Might I suggest we have a ‘No Asgardian Shenanigans’ sign at the front door? We can hang it right under the ‘No Solicitors’ sign.”

“That might be a tad welcoming, don’t you think?” Clint drawled, lips curling in a wry grin.

Sam chuckled. “No illusions allowed, no staff-wielding illusions, no illusions about illusions.”

Bucky glanced around. They were all bantering, but he could sense the undercurrent of nervous energy. Finally, Steve caught his eye and nodded, inviting him to speak up if he wanted. But Bucky just gave a small shrug—he didn’t really have an opinion yet, beyond thinking that maybe it would be nice to have another level-headed god around. He’d heard Loki was a piece of work, but Thor—despite his bombast—had proven a decent ally.

“Well, guess we’ll know soon enough,” Nat said, pulling everyone’s attention back to her. She tapped her phone, checking the time. “Thor? When’s your supposed to show up?”

Thor’s chest swelled with pride, as though merely announcing your name was akin to proclaiming victory over the Nine Realms. “He will arrive today—shortly, in fact. Heimdall has secured him safe passage. I ask for your patience, my friends. He is not…accustomed to Earth.”

“Oh, this ought to be fun,” Tony said, pushing back from the table. “Alright. Everyone, let’s roll out the welcome mat. And by ‘welcome mat,’ I obviously mean ‘a healthy dose of skepticism laced with potential backup plans A through Z.’ Clint, let’s find a vantage point—”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, sounding exasperated. “He’s Thor’s brother, not a Hydra spy.”

Tony shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Or have we collectively forgotten the Chitauri fiasco?”

Thor let out a deep, put-upon sigh, and Bucky caught the flicker of guilt in the god’s eyes. Clearly, Thor was sensitive about all that had happened with Loki. Which in turn made Bucky feel a little guilty for automatically being wary.

About an hour later, the Avengers had dispersed, though most lingered in the main atrium of the Compound. Bucky hung back near a wall, arms folded, scanning his surroundings with a soldier’s vigilance. He had no idea what to expect. A second Loki? Another six-foot-something, muscle-bound, hammer-wielding Asgardian?

The air crackled with energy, and suddenly, a swirl of rainbow light appeared at the center of the room—a mini Bifrost. Out of it stepped you.

Your entrance was about as dramatic as one could expect from a swirling cosmic rainbow, but you looked anything but menacing. Clad in simple Asgardian attire (far less extravagant than Thor’s usual gear), you blinked, adjusting to the Earthly surroundings and then you bowed—actually bowed—deeply and respectfully.

“Good day,” you greeted softly, your voice gentler than any of them expected. “I am (Y/N) of Asgard. It's an honor to meet the team that has accepted my brother Thor with open arms. I know you might be wary of me with all that has transpired with Loki, but know that I deeply apologize for any problems he...” You paused, searching for a polite way to phrase it, eventually settling with, “…might have caused.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “‘Might have caused?’ Yeah, that’s one way to put an alien invasion.” He exchanged a look with Clint, who shrugged.

“(Y/N) is different,” Thor explained, laying a large hand on your shoulder with a brotherly sort of pride. “He will not attempt subterfuge or illusions.”

Bucky, observing quietly from his corner, noticed how you half-cringed at the mention of illusions, as if even the word brought you guilt by association. You glanced around at the assembled heroes: Tony with his pointed skepticism, Nat’s arms folded in careful assessment, Steve’s polite-but-guarded kindness. Even Sam gave you a sidelong look that said he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in second Asgardian princes yet. Only Thor, unwavering in his faith, and Bruce, gently curious, seemed at ease.

Clearing your throat, you continued, “I truly want to learn of your customs and help in any way I can.” Your voice quieted further. “I understand if my presence here makes you uncomfortable. You have already faced so much.”

Natasha eyed you, the corners of her mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles. “Well, you’re certainly more polite than your brothers,” she said, glancing at Thor pointedly.

“That’s not difficult,” Clint muttered, earning a huff from Thor.

Bucky only half-listened to the exchange; he was more focused on the shy curve of your posture—how you carried yourself with a subtle humility that was so unlike Thor’s boisterous confidence or Loki’s cunning. He realized then he was staring, so he forced himself to look away, crossing his arms over his chest to maintain some semblance of aloofness.

Steve, ever the one to break awkward silences, stepped forward to shake your hand. “We appreciate your honesty, (Y/N). I’m Steve Rogers. I promise no one here means you harm,” he said in a reassuring tone.

You took his hand carefully, as if unaccustomed to the formality. “Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” A flicker of surprise crossed your face as you felt the firmness of his handshake. “Your grip could rival Thor’s,” you murmured, almost impressed. Thor puffed up, beaming that you’d complimented one of his comrades.

Sam spoke up next, his voice colored with curiosity. “So, no illusions, no plans of world domination…I’m guessing you’re the ‘normal’ one in the family?”

You seemed flustered, but your lips quirked in an embarrassed smile. “I—I wouldn’t quite say that. But I have always strived for peace.”

Tony waved a hand. “Alright, Peace Prince, welcome aboard. We’ll see how it goes. Just don’t conjure up any giant space whales or open any more cosmic portals in the middle of Manhattan, deal?”

Thor looked positively mortified that Tony would even imply such a thing, but you only nodded politely. “Yes, sir. No space whales. I can assure you of that.”

At the “sir,” Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I like you. Please continue to address me as ‘sir’ in front of the others.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Thor cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to calmer waters. “(Y/N) will be staying with us for a time—learning Earth’s ways. Please, treat him as you would me.”

“So we haze him with endless pop culture references and toss him in the deep end?” Sam joked.

Bucky saw you swallow hard, and something about your shy, uncertain expression tugged at his chest. Without meaning to, he spoke up for the first time in the meeting. “I’ll help,” he said bluntly.

Everyone turned to look at him, surprise etched on their faces—especially Steve, who arched an eyebrow as if to say, Didn’t know you were volunteering, pal. You brightened, relief shining in your eyes. “That is very kind of you. Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Just…Bucky,” he mumbled, cheeks warming the tiniest bit.

Natasha’s keen eyes flickered between the two of you, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Great,” she said lightly. “Now that we’re all introduced, who wants lunch?”

Over the next few days, you integrated yourself into Avengers life with unexpected ease. You asked Tony endless questions about Earth technology, took great care to help Bruce reorganize his lab (after you discovered you had a knack for meticulously alphabetizing everything from chemicals to coffee mugs), and politely sparred with Natasha, who grudgingly admitted you were surprisingly tough yet considerate.

Meanwhile, Bucky quietly observed you. He watched you cheerfully fix up the lounge furniture after Thor accidentally broke a coffee table. He saw you carefully water the potted plants in the hallway, eager to ensure none of Earth’s “fragile vegetation” withered on your watch. Little by little, Bucky found himself drawn to your presence—drawn to your soft laughter, your bright curiosity.

But one thing stood out above all else: you never once bragged about your title. You never boasted about your Asgardian heritage or demanded special treatment. You even seemed embarrassed whenever anyone called you ‘Prince (Y/N).’ Instead, you were humble—sometimes painfully so. And that humility, combined with that sweet, open-minded wonder, made Bucky’s heart do somersaults he hadn’t felt in years.

Bucky sat in the compound’s lounge one afternoon, pretending to read a newspaper while sneaking glances your way. You were studying a half-eaten bag of potato chips like they were the eighth wonder of the world.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, beckoning his friend closer.

Steve, doing his best to hide an amused smile, leaned in. “What’s up?”

Bucky tilted the newspaper so Steve could see you turning the potato-chip bag upside down, letting crumbs tumble out onto your hand. “He’s cute,” Bucky muttered under his breath, so quietly it nearly dissolved into air.

“…Should I act surprised? It was obvious from the moment you volunteered to show him around the tower,” Steve finished, his voice just as low. He flicked his gaze from Bucky to you and back again, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the hint of pink that dusted his cheeks. “I’m trying to be subtle, all right?”

Steve snorted. “That’s rich coming from the guy who’s sneaking glances every ten seconds.”

Bucky’s gaze drifted again to you—now tapping the bottom of the potato chip bag in an effort to extract the last crumb. The entire display was so earnestly adorable that Bucky had to bite back a smile. “Look,” Bucky sighed, voice dropping lower, “he’s Thor’s brother. A prince. And I’m—well—” He gestured vaguely at himself, as if that summed up a lifetime’s worth of complications. “You really think he’d be interested?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I do.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest—he’s just curious about Earth, he’s friendly to everyone, it doesn’t mean anything—but then, as if on cue, you turned around in your seat. The instant your eyes met Bucky’s, your face lit with delight. You waved at him so earnestly that you almost spilled the bag of chips.

Bucky swallowed. “Fine,” he muttered, giving Steve a pointed look. “Maybe there’s a small chance.”

Steve suppressed a laugh, nudging Bucky forward. “Then go talk to him. Ask about chips, or Earth cuisine, or literally anything. Just say something.”

Bucky tried to summon that stoic confidence that sometimes worked for him. Instead, he felt like a high school kid with a crush. “Right,” he mumbled. “Be casual. Real casual.”

He stood up, discreetly adjusting his jacket, and made his way over to you. You greeted him with a bright smile—still holding that bag of chips as if you’d discovered gold. “Hello, Bucky!” you said. “I didn’t realize such simple food could taste so addictive.”

Bucky felt his heart do a little flip at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yeah, uh…chips,” he replied brilliantly, jamming his hand in his pocket in a desperate attempt to appear nonchalant. “They’re a big deal around here. We’ve got, uh…like, 70 flavors, I think.”

Your eyes widened. “Seventy?!”

“Maybe more,” Bucky corrected himself. He cleared his throat. “So, you like them?”

“Very much. I fear I might become dependent,” you admitted, glancing a little sheepishly at the half-empty bag. “But enough about me—how’s your day? I noticed you’ve been reading that newspaper for a while.”

Bucky cringed internally. Busted. “Oh, yeah—lots of…uh…interesting articles,” he fibbed, holding up the folded paper. He glanced at the front page, realized it was yesterday’s news, and hastily lowered it again. “Anyway, I was thinking, maybe we could…you know, get out for a while? Go, uh…check out a café nearby.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion creeping across your features. “But the Compound has a coffee machine. It’s in the kitchen, right? I can fetch you coffee, if you like.”

“No, no,” Bucky corrected, trying to keep his composure. “I mean, we could go out. Just you and me. Kind of an…outing.” He struggled with the word date, but it hovered there, unsaid.

Your eyes went wide, as though another revelation had dawned upon you. “Oh! You need supplies? Are we on a mission?”

“No, not a mission,” Bucky explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hanging out. Relaxing. Maybe having a nice conversation—away from everyone else.”

You nodded, albeit slowly. “A private conversation…in a place that also serves coffee?”

“Right,” Bucky confirmed, trying not to seem too relieved. “It’s…well, on Earth, we call that a ‘date.’”

He finally said it—date. His palms were sweaty, but he held your gaze, waiting.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, brows shooting up. “I’ve read about dates in one of the Midgardian relationship guidebooks. Something about courting rituals and paying for each other’s drinks to demonstrate affection?”

Bucky’s cheeks felt warmer by the second. “Yeah, that’s…that’s the general idea. You interested?”

“Yes!” you said, then paused, a flicker of doubt crossing your features. “But do we need to bring my father into this? Thor mentioned father-gifts or is that just for official betrothals? I don’t want to be rude.”

Off to the side, half-hidden in the hallway, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose to stifle a laugh. Bucky shot him a quick glare—thanks for the backup, pal. Chuckling nervously, Bucky shook his head. “No father-gifts required. On Earth, it’s usually just between, well…the two people going on the date.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed. “Ah, excellent. That simplifies things. I wouldn’t know what to buy your father anyway—does he prefer golden chalices or—?”

“No, no,” Bucky interjected quickly, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing. “Seriously, no father involvement. We just go, maybe sit down, order coffee, talk.”

You seemed to take a moment to let that sink in. Then, you grinned wide. “That sounds delightful. When do we depart for this coffee date?”

“How about tomorrow morning? Around ten?” Bucky offered.

You placed a hand over your heart, nodding firmly. “Ten in the morning. I will be ready. Should I wear armor, or is that too formal?”

Bucky glanced at Steve again, who was now silently cracking up. He smothered a grin, turning back to you. “Casual clothes are fine. Maybe just…I dunno…a shirt and jeans, if you have them?”

“Ah, yes! The mortal garb. I’ll do my best not to clash patterns.” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Though everything on Earth seems to clash with my Asgardian boots.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, feeling tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding in slip away. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Moments later, you excused yourself to research casual Earth attire, leaving Bucky standing in the lounge with a strangely giddy feeling in his chest. That’s when Steve sauntered in, arms folded, his smile practically ear-to-ear. “You see?” Steve teased. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “I almost had to explain father-gifts, so maybe a little complicated.”

Steve chuckled. “Looked like you handled it just fine. And if you need a quick escape route tomorrow, you know I’ve got your back.”

Bucky gave him a playful shove. “Thanks, punk.”

Steve shrugged, still grinning. “Anytime, jerk.”

[insanityclause]

Over the past 13 years, Tom Hiddleston has died more times than he can recall. “Let me think about this,” the actor tells us, pausing to count in his head. “I think, officially, there were two big ones.” 

He’s referring to his many exits from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the blockbuster franchise in which he’s played shape-shifting Norse god Loki Laufeyson since Kenneth Branagh’s 2011 film “Thor”—the son of Asgardians Odin (Anthony Hopkins) and Frigga (Rene Russo), and the half-sibling of Thor (Chris Hemsworth), the god of thunder. 

The character has since bounced between villain and reluctant antihero across five films, a handful of post-credits scenes, and Michael Waldron’s Disney+ spinoff series “Loki,” which Hiddleston also executive produces. The show wrapped its second—and supposedly final—season last November. The finale presents an end for the character, but not one of the aforementioned “big ones.” 

Hiddleston’s first “official” farewell came in Alan Taylor’s 2013 sequel “Thor: The Dark World,” which saw the god of mischief take a sword to the chest to save his beefy brother. “As written in the first script, it was a true sacrifice,” Hiddleston says. Unfortunately for Marvel’s long-term plans, the actor had done too good a job playing the trickster.

“When Marvel [executives] were testing the movie, they’d given [viewers] questionnaires that said, ‘Is there anything you didn’t understand?’ ” he remembers. “Literally every single audience member said, ‘Well, obviously, Loki’s not really dead.’ ” 

In classic comic-book fashion, the character did return, gallivanting alongside his brother in Taika Waititi’s 2017 follow-up “Thor: Ragnarok.” He died again one year later (“big one” number two) in the Russo brothers’  “Avengers: Infinity War.” There were no smokescreens or questionnaires this time; audiences watched as Loki’s neck was crushed by the purple fist of intergalactic warlord Thanos (Josh Brolin). 

Hiddleston remembers arriving in Atlanta to shoot his final scene and immediately bumping into Brolin. “He came up to me, gave me this huge hug, and said, ‘I’m so sorry, man.’ ” 

He meant it, too; everyone meant it. The sun, it seemed, had actually set on Hiddleston’s MCU journey. “At the end of that scene, I got a big round of applause, and everybody was so sweet and kind and gracious,” he says. “I got notes and emails saying, ‘Tom, you’ve done so much for us—what a journey. Come and see us anytime.’ I really thought that was the end.” 

And it was, for real, right up until it wasn’t—when the time-traveling shenanigans of 2019’s “Avengers: Endgame” blasted a younger version of Loki out of the established canon and into his own series. Over two seasons, the multiversal storyline envisions the title character as a figure who exists outside time and space. Across all there is, was, and may come to pass, there will always be a Loki, in some form, wreaking havoc. 

Hiddleston has long since accepted what this means for him as an actor. Maybe “Loki” Season 2 really was his last time in the role; or maybe he’ll play him until the sun burns out. “I’ve realized that, in human consciousness, that’s who Loki is,” he says. “Loki is this ancient, mythic character, who, in our collective mythology, represents the trickster, the transgressor, the boundary-crosser, the shape-shifter—somebody who’s mercurial and spontaneous and unpredictable who will always confound your expectations and wriggle out from underneath your certainties and convictions. Someone who we need and [who] is necessary.”

Hiddleston pauses, getting emotional. “Maybe Loki escaping death a couple of times is sort of an emblem of who he is in our culture,” he says, grinning at his own gusto. The actor has a habit of being self-deprecating about the depth of the character’s lore. “I spend a lot of time thinking about Loki. You can probably tell.”

You can tell, and it’s incredibly endearing. Talking to Hiddleston about Loki feels like discussing Shakespeare’s Richard III with Laurence Olivier or Tennessee Williams’ Blanche DuBois with Jessica Lange. They were actors who put their definitive stamps on those roles by returning to the well and constantly digging deeper. 

In conversation, Hiddleston is equally as likely to reference comic-book arcs as he is the ancient, anonymous Old Norse scribes of the “Poetic Edda” or Richard Wagner’s epic four-cycle opera “Der Ring des Nibelungen.” He speaks reverently of actors who embodied the trickster god before him, like Jim Carrey in Chuck Russell’s 1994 comedy “The Mask” and Alan Cumming in Lawrence Guterman’s 2005 sequel, “Son of the Mask.” He also heaps praise on those who played the part after him, such as his “Loki” costars Sophia Di Martino, Richard E. Grant, Deobia Oparei, and—in one very surreal Season 1 moment—“some alligator they found somewhere.” He cites legendary Marvel creators Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Walter Simonson alongside the likes of English essayist Walter Pater and Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw, who once wrote of life as a “splendid torch” to keep burning for those who follow.

“Loki is ‘a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment,’ ” Hiddleston quotes, “and I want to make it burn as brightly as I can before passing it on to future generations.” 

This level of study started before he even landed the role. He recalls the 24 hours leading up to his “Thor” audition, when he was 28 years old. After graduating from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in 2005, he quickly earned small-screen and stage acclaim—but he hadn’t yet achieved a major breakthrough. When he received the script for “Thor,” it felt familiar. “I remember thinking, This is almost Shakespearean, this language,” Hiddleston says. “What’s the best example I can [look to] of an actor who managed to humanize and make real this elevated world of myth?” 

He found the answer in Christopher Reeve, who played the title role in Richard Donner’s 1978 blockbuster “Superman.” “He’s masterful in that film,” Hiddleston says. “In a way, it’s a similar premise: He’s a god or he’s a being from a different realm, and it’s not naturalistic in the way that we might expect. He does it so truthfully, and it’s so clear and clean and open and honest. I thought, If I can even approximate or get close to the kind of clarity that Christopher Reeve had in those films, I’ll be lucky.” 

And then, the morning of his “Thor” audition, Hiddleston went for a run, “which is my habit before doing anything unusual,” he explains. 

Running has remained a constant throughout the actor’s MCU tenure. At any given moment over the last decade, the god of mischief was likely doing laps around Marvel’s go-to shooting location, Pinewood Studios (now Trilith Studios) in Atlanta. “Life is movement; I really believe that,” Hiddleston says. 

“I find when I’m running or walking, the repetitive nature of it relaxes the mind and allows ideas and inspiration to come from a deeper place. I see my work as an actor—especially in preparation for a project or a scene—as almost preparing myself to be open and ready to receive ideas, to receive energy from other actors, to receive energy from my imagination.”

Hiddleston found the technique particularly helpful when he was filming a scene for the “Loki” series premiere that he calls “one of the most thrilling challenges I’ve ever had as an actor.” In it, Loki has been poached from the flow of time itself by the temporality-policing Time Variance Authority and forced to watch what is, essentially, a highlight reel of his entire MCU arc. It’s one of the most deeply existential moments you’ll ever find streaming alongside the likes of “Bluey” and the “Cars” movies. Here is a man watching the sum total of his life—his hopes, his dreams, his failures, his own death—play out in a 30-second clip that ends with the cold, clinical words: “End of file.”

“I just kept imagining: If you were afforded the opportunity or forced to watch your own death as a bystander, it would bring about an existential shock and crisis unlike any other,” Hiddleston explains. “It was a scene where I thought, I don’t have a reference for how to play this. I just have to allow shock, disgust, disgrace, shame, disbelief, acceptance, incredulity, and sorrow to exist in the center of me.” 

As an executive producer on the series, Hiddleston had a say as to which of Loki’s many misdeeds would play in the sequence. He chose clips like Frigga’s death in “Thor: The Dark World” and his father’s final words in “Thor: Ragnarok”—moments Hiddleston knew would most fill the character with regret. As production was preparing to shoot the scene, he asked first assistant director Richard Graves for a 20-minute warning.

 “I decided to jog around the stage and internalize as many of those memories of those people, those characters, those actors [as possible]—to try and find the center of my own vulnerability,” Hiddleston says. “Part of the joy of it was just going back to basics, trying to simplify this very complex thing…. Go for a jog, get into your body, allow yourself to be open, and just be there; just feel it.”

One “Loki”-like time jump later, Hiddleston found himself in a similar situation as he was preparing to shoot his final moment of Season 2—a scene that effectively caps Loki’s 13-year arc. Across 12 episodes, the show guided its title character toward a truly heroic end: With all of existence on the verge of collapse, he steps out of time to tie the strands of every reality together. As the credits roll, Loki sits at the center of time, holding in place all that is—alone. 

It’s a lot for any actor to internalize, especially one who’s performing solo in front of a blue screen. With 45 minutes to cameras rolling, episode co-director Aaron Moorhead made a suggestion. “He said to me, ‘Why don’t you go back, if you can bear it, and watch some of your work [over] the last 15 years?’ ” Hiddleston remembers. “ ‘Take it in, see what it means to you, and then carry it when you step out onto the stage.’ ” 

The actor took Moorhead’s advice to heart. And suddenly, without meaning to, he was mirroring the moment that started the series: absorbing the sum total of Loki’s MCU run. But this time, his regret had been replaced with gratitude. Hiddleston watched clips from “Thor,” remembering a time when he and Hemsworth had yet to ascend to the A-list. He recalled working with powerhouses like Hopkins and Russo, and the bonds he forged with the “original six Avengers” in 2011. He thought about how fun it was to film “Thor: Ragnarok” with Tessa Thompson and Jeff Goldblum, and of the more recent friendships he found with his “Loki” castmates Di Martino and Owen Wilson. 

“I thought, What Loki is doing, he is doing for his friends. And so, Tom, why don’t you do it for your friends?” Hiddleston says. “That’s where the two of us met in that moment. And then I was so grateful I had this most amazing crew, and we did it together.”

The actor is, of course, noncommittal as to whether this is actually the end of his MCU run. The franchise is scheduled out until at least 2027, and Hemsworth has mentioned his desire to make another “Thor” film. And if Loki’s past has proven anything, even the most official endings can be undone. 

Either way, it seems to Hiddleston that something significant has ended, even if it’s just Loki’s full-circle arc. “I hope it feels redemptive because his broken soul is partially healed; and you see that this character, who is capable of love, has made a decision from and for love,” he says. The actor cites the “beautiful prologue” of the first “Thor” film, in which Hopkins’ Odin tells his two sons: “Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings.”

“At the end of Season 2, Loki is sitting on a kind of throne; but it’s not arrived in the shape he expected, and there’s no glory in it,” Hiddleston explains. “There’s a kind of burden, and he’s alone. He’s doing it for his friends, but he has to stay there without them. There’s a poetic melancholy there which I found very moving.”

For now, Hiddleston “can’t even conceive” of his life without Loki. He only hopes that he’s lived up to his guiding ethos as an actor, which he sums up with a plea from E.M. Forster’s 1910 novel “Howards End”: “Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height.”

“The feedback loop for actors is that we get to inhabit a fiction,” Hiddleston says. “But hopefully, that fiction bears the shape of a truth that we recognize about life—that what we do reflects the ups and downs, the peaks and troughs, and the breadth and profundity of all of our lives.”

Hiddleston exists in that space between fiction and reality, the work and the resulting art, the prose and the passion. Long after we’ve moved on from our interview and started casually discussing the cherry blossoms blooming in New York, his eyes light up. He’s made another connection, remembered one more thing—just one last thing he’d like to impart about Loki. 

He spends a lot of time thinking about Loki. You can probably tell.

“I’m so aware that the reason I’ve been able to play him for so long is because of the audience’s curiosity and passion,” Hiddleston says. “I’ve been delighted to find that for a character of such stature, he’s remarkably human. Many of the characteristics that people connect to in Loki are deeply human feelings. That’s been the pleasure, is infusing this elevated character with humanity.”

Even then, honestly, it feels as if Hiddleston, like Loki, could go on forever. Unfortunately, outside of the MCU, time moves in only one direction. Once again, he has to run.

This story originally appeared in the June 6 issue of Backstage Magazine. Subscribe to In the Envelope: The Actor's Podcast to hear our full conversation with Hiddleston (out 6/6). 

[xenocorner]

Here's a small batch of very old rough wips that never made it past the sketch phase :') ft some of my Asgardian Stephen shenanigans-

[no-gorms]

Omega Tony Stark getting baby fever later in life (at a similar time to Canon!Tony I guess so mid to late 40’s and let’s pretend there was no CW and the team is still all friends together*). And he never wanted kids before, in fact the very idea made him shudder! (à la IM3). Plus he resent the stereotype of “baby crazy omega” being foisted on him in his youth and fought HARD against it until the public all agreed with him, thank god Tony Stark never had kids.

but then he starts interacting with Peter and he’s getting more into mentoring and he’s been having these dreams of little babies with his eyes…

And like, he knows his body has been thru the wringer even BEFORE the reactor and he hasn’t been gentle since. And he’s been single for years now so it’s not like he has a partner to help him get the job done…

So good thing he has a team! And what luck, he’s besties with some demi-gods and super soldiers and wizards, at least one of them should help cheat biology a bit. And miraculously he’s still getting heats! Inconsistent ones yeah but still, doesn’t hurt to try! better get a move on, the biological clock is ticking!!!

And so he calls a team meeting and asks very sweetly for any volunteers, and Alphas or Beta’s for something like a sperm donor, but if they wanna be part of the little nugget’s life Tony is down with that! Be it cool uncle or full co-parent it’s all gravy. And speaking of gravy

(Yes Tony swung this hypothetical talk by HR and they “highly recommended against it but it isn’t technically illegal…” (thanks to archaic omega laws) so he took that go ahead and ran)

And wouldn’t you know it? Ever since Steve told Tony about his parents and Bucky and some…heated disagreements about the team and politics there’s been some polite distance between them. And during this distance Steve of course realized he had feeling for Tony (king of waiting to long over here) and has been pining every since…

…so maybe that’s why Steve stands up and essentially, loudly, volunteers as tribute, talking loudly over like say Thor who was clearly about to also agree.

Does Tony accept this outright or does shenanigans happen where like, Thor challenges Steve to some kind of contest for the privilege. Or that Tony was gonna leave it up to people to donate anonymously or something but Steve just jumped in feet first

What happens next? Do they try turkey baster style first or is it a known fact in the Omegaverse that the “old fashioned way” is the most effective (blah blah special pheromones thru touch/heat/ancient breeding magic blah blah). Does Steve wanna go full co-parent? Do they start dating DURING the “attempts”? While Tony is preggers?? After the baby gets here???

(preggers!Tony fretting about what to wear on their first date while just SO VERY pregnant is hilarious to me.)

*Or if you wanna go full angst CW DOES happen but the team was able to come together and defeat Thanos and now they are technically all together and friends again but there are ~*~tensions~*~ and (TヘT) …distance~*~ + pining

---

Lol well that's a fun scenario! I don't think Thor would challenge Steve for the honour, but he might see the determined glint in Steve's eye and think to himself, ah what fun! And make a show of trying to convince Tony that he's a better prospect than Steve, arguing about Asgardian genes and the ease of the pregnancies in Thor's family, meanwhile Steve is getting redder and redder in the face, but anyway Tony's like, actually I don't want my kid to suddenly start levitating or whatever magic nonsense you guys get up to, so Steve it is!

Steve would probably suggest the turkey baster (lol) insemination for Tony's ease but it doesn't take and Tony gets anxious because of super soldier swimmers are struggling with Tony's slightly(!) aging self then he might really have a problem so ANYWAY would Steve be up for going the traditional way?

Yes. Yes, Steve would. Anyway it's the best sex Tony's had in his life and he's just like, okay, what was that. Maybe... they can go again just to make sure. A third time, just to be REALLY sure. Then oh he's pregnant so. uh..... that's good. Good job, Steve. Thnx~

But intimacy is what it is and the spectacular sex may have addled Tony's brain because he's totally fine with Steve fussing around him, and asking very politely if he can be part of the child's life and will Tony allow him to take care of Tony during this time? With foot rubs and making drinks for him and fetching hot water bottles and calming Tony down whenever Tony has an attack of the doubts, and so on?

Then Steve is so focused on giving Tony everything he wants and anticipating his every need to make sure the pregnancy goes as smooth as possible, that he misses that Tony is having a slowly-unraveling meltdown under Steve's glorious attention.

I see your possible date while Tony is heavily pregnant, but also I think it would be hilarious if Tony is so determined not to lose focus on the baby, because his priorities have to change with this gift he is bringing into the world and there's no energy left over to do something about developing feelings for Steve (never mind that Tony is king as multitasking)...

But at the very last minute when Steve has sent Tony to the hospital and they're prepping for Tony's c-section, and Tony has another flash of fear for the soon-changing future, and grabs Steve for a big ol' smooch. Steve is shocked, but smooches back. Then Tony gets rolled out to the OR.

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.  

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.  

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead. 

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

“So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“  

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-  

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast.  Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

Steve Rogers masterlist 

Complete masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰

[mcuthoraction]

Thor Gotcha for Gaza

For every donation of $5 USD to any verified Palestinian fundraiser, donators can receive a Thor, Loki, or Hela fanwork (either fanfic/fanart) based on their prompt.

COMPLETED FANWORKS

ART

Thor and Loki childhood shenanigans (art) by @/moopzies

Loki as a hogwarts 5th year student ( in Slytherin ), playing quidditich (art) by @/cephalore

long hair Thor wearing cute little reading glasses (art) by @/twinkkurt

Loki as a kingsmen agent (art) by anonymous

Loki having rlly good cold tolerance in Norway winter, Thor looks like a marshmallow from all the insulating clothing layers (art) by @/cephalore

from an old post of my brodinsons sickfic ideas, 'Thor always being warm and Loki seeking him out when he's got chills cause it's as good as an electric blanket (that also gives you hugs) (art) by anonymous

Thor/Loki, one-sided unrequited - Thor has been slowly dying of hanahaki for centuries. By the time it's impossible to hide and he confesses, it's too late… (art) by anonymous

"When i ask my boyfriend to come cuddle me but i forget how muscular he is" meme but it's Thor asking What If!Jotun!Loki as his brother to cuddle and getting squished underneath (art) by anonymous

demon Loki flustering fairy Thor. would be nice if they danced together (art) by anonymous

hela AND brodinsons fluff (art) by anonymous

Loki likes to admire Hela while she gets ready. Loki thinks his big sister is so cool and loves the way she does her hair and makeup. Hela applies black lipstick on her kid brother after he confesses he wants to look pretty like her. (art) by @/strawberrysnakez

I'd love to see Hela having a day for her self of self care. Perhaps preparing a bath, candles, a stunning robe, some wine…. but prefer color scheme of the bath and such to be with black roses, some skull motifs, maybe random blood stain here or there, overall a hellish or underworld toned bath and setting for Hela but still beautiful for her. (art) by anonymous

transfem thor, and loki bonding (art) by @/cephalore

Loki x Mobius hug! it can be hurt/comfort or fluff! (art) by anonymous

omega!Thor's first heat (fluffy, goes well) (art) by anonymous

just some really beautiful fem-androgynous loki fanart where she actually looks at peace <3 (art) by anonymous

fandral as flynn rider climbing loki as rapunzel's window pre-thor 1 (art) by @/neongase

FIC

Loki and Sylvie go on a date (fic) by @/Griselda_Gimpel

thinking about odin turning into sparkles when he died and then thought. okay what if asgardians just turned into glitter when they died. like just. poof. sparkles everywhere. like the avengers find Thor after Loki's just died again and he's sobbing and covered in glitter (fic) by @/Lost_Sanctuary

Loki looks at his reflection for the first time as a Jotun. Thor is there to comfort. Hela is there to jeer. (Maybe in the beginning of Ragnarok, they all fall from the Bifrost to Jotunheim? And they have to stick together?) (Internalised Fantastic Racism) (fic) by @/worstloki

baby loki and frigga fluff (fic) by @/WhisperingMischief

Human AU in Thor’s POV involving a very dysfunctional odinfamily. Prompt can be taken in any direction the author wants, but primarily focused on Thor. (fic) by @/Cail_Jei

Thor/Loki - some sort of consort!Thor AU (fic) by @/thot-son-of-odin and @/thortwenty151

tesseroki AU with human loki & vampire tess (fic) by @/worstloki

Thor in a Timeloop (maybe in the Dark World, or the Infinity War, trying to fix everything) (fic) by @/worstloki

Gamora and Nebula talk about death and mercy while Loki is unconscious (fic) by @/worstloki

Hurt/comfort: Thor does something to trigger loki's flashbacks to when he was being tortured by the black order. This turns into a panic attack and it takes multiple attempts for Thor to properly calm him down. It's also eye-opening for Thor, realizing he really doesn't know how much lokis been through. (fic) by @/mayonaisie

Loki & Thor or Hela & Loki & Thor brotherhood/siblinghood (fic) by @/Cail_Jei

Thor takes Loki back to Asgard after the Battle of New York for trial, but somethings wrong. They‘re extremely physically injured, covered in scars and bruises and broken bones that were not a result of the battle, are starved, and seem absolutely terrified of everything. They are so traumatised (from what???), they can't even speak. instead of a trial, loki is hospitalised (or whatever its called. healerised?? "submitted to the healers"?), and after arguments between Frigga and Odin that have her doubting his love and care of wellbeing for Loki and her, she transfers Loki to a healers away from Asgard, on Alfheim, and stays with them there as they try healing (or at least taking care of) Loki and figuring out what happened in that mysterious gap year. (fic) by @/PlatinumInk

‘Loki committing self harm. I’ve read a lot of fics that include Loki committing self-harm, but they always end prematurely with someone walking in or the plot moving on to other things, or they don’t describe it in much detail or only have Loki very mild forms of self harm or whatnot, but i just really want a fic that the focus is just on Loki committing self harm. and being mentally ill. Self-hatred. (fic) by @/imthederpyfox

Narvi and Vali go missing (fic) by @/worstloki

Thor bringing Loki back from the era of Thor 1 or the Avengers, or even the Dark World on a post-IW era. (fic) by @/AlwaysLying

Post ragnarok Seer!thor au where baby thor is haunted by visions until Odin binds his powers/stops them from happening with mjolnir, but they come back when mjolnir is destroyed. (fic) by @/mayonaisie

TVA Loki trying to subtly help Thor without Thor seeing him, until one day Thor catches him (fic) by @/cail_jei

This list will update as more fanworks are completed.

[gloriousburden]

I miss when it was still exciting to go see a marvel movie. Now, I just feel dread every time something is announced or is in the theaters. it seems like the more possibilities they get (such as introducing new characters, new storylines, the whole multiverse bullshit) the movies become more garbage. It really was better when the movies were just about the Avengers versus Loki. The Avengers versus new bad guy. The Avengers versus each other. Asgardian shenanigans. Captain America versus Hydra shenanigans. Black Panther. Doctor Strange. GOTG even though I’m not necessarily a huge fan.

Honestly, I can’t even remember liking any of the movies/series that came out… and I saw most of them. The MCU is so over and it’s so saddening to me. It used to be so much fun. Some of the What If episodes were kind of fun, but everything else… 😞 I wish the Avengers could’ve been forever. Endgame is the evil that keeps on giving. It never stopped.

Obviously, the MCU has always had its mistakes and flops. But… it wasn’t every single project back to back. Possibly the only thing that’s remained consistent is their love of whitewashing, butchering, and nerfing characters. None of that changed.

[noturlondonboy]

Fireworks Weren’t on the Menu

-Bishova 4th of July Oneshot

Masterlist

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova (established)

Summary: We’re getting the band back together! At Clint’s farm, specially- for the 4th of July. Nobody thinks to warn Yelena about the fireworks.

Warnings: panic attack, angst, not proof read

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: some domestic Bishova fluff and Avengers family shenanigan followed by the angst that none of them can escape. Enjoy <3

“I still don’t understand the point of this silly holiday,” Yelena grumbles aloud, pouting as she helps Kate grab blankets and coolers from the back of their car.

”Yeah, I think it’s overrated, but it’s also an easy excuse to take work off and spend some fun time with family.” Her wife shrugs and props a cooler up on her shoulder. Yelena gives herself a moment to admire the strain in her muscles between her pouting, and Kate just laughs and rolls her eyes when she catches her.

”You guys are late!” Natasha’s voice calls out, and Yelena grins widely as she bounds over to her sister, coolers completely forgotten.

“But you love us, so you cannot even be mad,” Yelena coos, her eyes wide and innocent as she throws her arms around the redhead’s neck and squishes their cheeks together.

Natasha giggles, arms looping around Yelena’s waist to hug her back. “Maybe I’ll just have to tickle you to get back at you.”

The blonde shrieks and jumps a foot in the air, leaping back so quickly that she bumps into Kate and subsequently knocks the brunette over. The coolers topple, luckily not spilling, but they both still wince at the loud sound.

”Sorry, darling,” Yelena says quickly, grabbing Kate’s hands and pulling her up to her feet. “Are you okay?”

Kate nods and brushes a stand of hair from Yelena’s face, pressing a kiss between her eyebrows. “Yes, silly. Grab a cooler for me? Nat, can you get the blankets?”

The assassin’s both nod, grabbing their respective items and heading into Clint’s house behind Kate, chatting happily.

The atmosphere on the Barton farm is light and happy, and Yelena’s smile is infectious. Kate follows behind her wife with a content smile on her lips, eyes bright as they greet their friends and family.

”So! What is the plan for today?” Yelena asks at one point, her hands moving efficiently as she chops up a watermelon.

“Well, there’s a pool with some water toys outside for the kids, and the dogs are all running around, and Clint is getting some games out while the food is finishing, so it should just be kinda open and relaxed.” Kate finishes slicing the strawberries, her tongue poking at the inside of her cheek as she lines them up on a cake to make the red stripes of the American flag. “Plus, once the kids are asleep, I hear Natasha and Bucky are planning to break out a few bottles.”

Yelena can’t stop the grin on her face as she continues to chop, going on autopilot as she glances to her archer. “Sounds like fun.”

Kate scoffs amusedly, her tone light. “I’m a little scared to see Steve drunk.”

Yelena hums, going back to her watermelon, but stops after a moment. “He can’t get drunk.”

The archer shrugs. “Thor is bringing Asgardian ale just for him and Bucky. Should be interesting.”

The blonde barks out a laugh, her eyes scrunching. “The star spangled man, tipsy on alien alcohol.”

“Clint’s camera will be out,” Kate chuckles softly.

The two of them melt into a comfortable silence, humming and working around each other as they prepare separate dishes in the coolness of the kitchen.

“Lena?”

“Kate Bishop?”

“I love you.”

Yelena’s expression melts into adoring gooeyness, and she spins happily into her wife’s arms, their lips meeting softly in kiss after kiss after kiss as Kate dips her, their cheeks rosey.

“And I love you.”

——

“LITTLE BARTON!”

Yelena’s shriek echoes around the open space, catching several people’s attention as the blonde is mobbed by Nathanial and Cooper, armed to the teeth with water guns. She’s laughing and screaming playfully as they soak her, her own hands empty of any weapon as she scrambles around the pool in search of equipment.

Kate watches the scene with a glowing heart, her arms folding over her chest as she dries off from swimming.

“Cheating! This is cheating! I am unarmed! Clint Barton, your children are ruthless!” Yelena yells, her cheeks aching with open mouthed laughter. She shrieks as Nathanial throws his little frame at her, and she catches him before he can sink beneath the water, her head tilting back to avoid his splashes.

“Kate Bishoooop! Save meeeee!” she wails, eyes scrunched happily as she pleads for mercy.

Kate giggles and sips at her drink before jogging over to the pool, diving in and swimming under the water towards Yelena’s legs. With an over exaggerated roar, she bursts from the water, scooping up her wife and Nathaniel into her arms. Nathaniel shrieks with laughter, his limbs flailing in an attempt to escape, and Cooper rescues him from Kate’s hold with a coy smile.

The two women giggle loudly, brushing their noses together. “My white knight,” Yelena beams, blinking water from her eyes.

“My lady,” Kate smiles back, her cheeks flushed and she covers Yelena’s face with kisses.

Cooper makes a gagging noise at the same time that Nathaniel wiggles from his arms to join in on the love, his little body scooped back into the embrace of the two women and his soft cheeks smothered in little pecks as he squeals in delight.

——

“Kate Bishop, pleaseeee, I cannot eat another bite,” Yelena begs, clutching her full stomach even as her eyes twinkle and she accepts the brownie in Kate’s hand.

Her wife just smiles brightly, an eyebrow raised. “Not another bite? Maybe you’ll have some room for dessert later, though, right?”

Yelena gives her a knowing look. “You know I always have room for dessert, love.”

Kate grins. “I know.”

Clint’s voice rings out over the group a few minutes later as the sun begins to set. “Okay, who’s ready for fireworks?”

People whoop and holler, their cheers excited. Steve looks particularly amped, but that may be the asgardian ale. Who’s to say, really.

Yelena’s brow furrows and she watches in confusion as small boxes and tubes are set up on a patio out in the middle of the field, with most of the boys crowded around them excitedly. Bucky and Sam lag behind, looking perfectly content to rest in their chairs and whisper to each other.

“Kate, what are…” she starts to say, her words peetering off when she glances over and sees Kate’s chair empty. Yelena hums, looking around the yard for her wife and spotting her showing Laura something on her phone. She lets out a soft sigh and stands after finishing her brownie, stretching her arms above her head and wincing at the crackling in her joints.

Yelena stops to say hi to Darcy and Carole on her way over, oohing and awing over Carole’s powers for a minute before waving with a smile and continuing on her way. She’s about halfway to Kate when the first explosion goes off.

Something in Yelena’s blood boils, her ears ringing as her body instinctively blanches away from the noise. Except that the noise is everywhere, and there are showers of light burning the sky open.

She’s in the Red Room again. Women are bleeding in her arms, skin burnt away and bullet holes riddling their bodies.

Her body is tucked away on the ground when she stumbles blindly and smacks her head on something, and the concrete is the only thing keeping her from screaming out. Something warm drips from her face. Blood coats her hands. There’s another explosion. Her ears ring. Her head swims violently.

There are hands clawing at her stomach, tearing away at her insides in a desperate attempt to be free. Her palms slap painfully over her ears, nails digging into the side of her head as she tries to curl her body into a ball, but the explosions are surrounding her, drowning her, burning her-

Hands are on Yelena’s body, hands that are warm and kind and safe, but she flinches away from them so violently that she physically gags, her tongue coated in bile as her stomach roils. Her elbows split open on the pavement, her feet kicking out blindly as her mouth opens in a scream that she can’t hear.

Everything is wrong. Everything is bad. Everything is burning.

She spends minutes in a haze of terror and sorrow. Hours. Days. Eternities. It starts with the Red Room, and it ends with the Red Room. She ends with the Red Room. She is nothing but the Red Room.

No one escapes. No one gets out. Fire is coating her skin and tugging at her nerves, sizzling them away as the memory of needle stabs and cold gun muzzles shoot through her stomach.

Yelena heaves again, something gritty in her eyes when she presses her forehead into the ground hard enough for a rock to cut into her temple, and she coughs so sharply that her stomach twists into painful knots.

“Yelena, sister. You’re not there. He’s not here. You’re safe. Yelena. Yelena.”

Her hand instinctively slaps out in a fist, connecting sharply with something that makes a noise in retaliation, but Yelena can only wail as her chest constricts and she slams her hands back over her ears. The explosions continue, and they rattle her skull, make her lips buzz, causing her to bite down into her tongue and fill her mouth with sticky metal.

Yelena gags again, coughing and spitting, her head swimming and eyes going blurry when the pavement underneath is suddenly awash in red that relflects the horrible things exploding in the sky.

“Yelena, Yelena, Yelena.”

The tears in her eyes feel like blood, and she can only scream.

——

Yelena doesn’t register that she even exists until what feels like hours later, when she finally blinks her eyes open to see the familiar faces of Natasha and Bucky, and not blood raining down from the sky like hellfire.

“Where am I…?” she croaks out in Russian, her tongue dry and thick and her lips feeling as if they’re about to crack.

Bucky is holding her head gently in his lap, his tired eyes kind as the cool metal of his arm stokes sweaty hair from her forehead. Natasha’s hands are oh-so gentle as she cups her sister’s cheeks, as if she’s afraid Yelena’s will break if she’s handled any harder.

“We’re at Clint’s place, Yelena,” Natasha says softly, switching to their mother tongue in a smooth motion. The familiar accent is like a balm on Yelena’s ears, so much gentler than the explosions that had rocked the sky.

“You had a panic attack, little bear.” Bucky rests his metal fingers against her eyebrows, and the temperature contrast heightens her awareness of just how warm her body feels. “A nasty one, too,” he continues, also in Russian. His deep voice is soft and raspy, and settles Yelena comfortably into a sense of familiarity that helps her breath come easier.

Yelena blinks up at them both, the muscles behind her eyes sore. “What…?”

“Fireworks,” her sister explains, shifting to settle back down with Yelena’s hand in her own. “They’re a traditional part of the 4th of July. You remember those neighborhood parties we would have back in Ohio? Yeah. We didn’t… I never thought to mention them.” There’s guilt in her voice, her green eyes haunted as she scans Yelena’s form over and over, as if looking for injuries.

“It’s okay, Talia,” Bucky mutters gently, his free hand resting on her knee. “I didn’t either. Neither did Kate. Nobody did.”

Yelena blinks again, her head starting to pound now that the world exists in her perception again. “So we’re not… everything’s okay?” she mumbles, one of her hands coming up to rub weakly at her forehead.

Bucky and Natasha both nod in tandem. “Everything’s okay.”

A heavy sigh falls from Yelena’s lips, and she lets herself sink back into Bucky’s lap, stretching her legs out in front of her from the awkward, curled up position they had been in. “Son of a bitch…” she mutters to herself, her hands flexing uneasily over her stomach.

Her sister laughs softly, her expression starting to ease. “Yeah. Son of a bitch.”

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asks her gently some time later, his metal fingers careful as he works at some of the kinks in her hair.

“Like shit,” Yelena mutters back, a groan in the back of her throat.

“Fair enough.”

They all sit in comfortable silence with each other for several minutes before Yelena lets out a deep sigh and cracks her eyes back open. “Where is Kate?”

“I think she’s distracting herself with the dogs right now,” Natasha murmurs. “Do you want me to go get her?”

Yelena nods. “Please.”

Bucky stops Natasha before she can get up, gingerly moving Yelena’s head from his lap to her sister’s. “I can go, Natalia. I need to go make sure my husband isn’t doing anything stupid, anyway.”

Natasha’s eyes are grateful, and she gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, James.”

The super soldier nods and exits the room after giving Yelena a soft look, his footsteps silent on the hardwood. He keeps the door open a crack behind him, and Kate’s face appears through it a minute later.

“Ekaterina,” Yelena murmurs once she sees her.

Kate’s entire body seems to droop in relief, and she pushes her way into the room when her wife beckons for her. “Hi, baby,” she says softly, her eyes distraught as she sits on the floor next to the two Widows.

Yelena takes her hand immediately and brings it to her lips, pressing featherlight kisses to each calloused knuckle before resting the familiar, slender fingers against her forehead. “Are you alright?” she asks gently in English, accent thick.

Kate nods and uses her other hand to cup Yelena’s cheek. “I should be the one asking you that, my love,” she murmurs. “I didn’t think to warn you about the fireworks. I’m sorry.”

“I am okay now, Kate Bishop.” The blonde gives a weak smile and pushes to sit up with a groan, and both her sister and her wife wrap their arms around her shoulders to help prop her up. “Just… feel like soggy noodles.”

The archer gives a small nod. “Can I hold you?”

Yelena sinks into her embrace without hesitation, her cheek pressing into Kate’s collarbone. She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, her brain relaxing further at the comforting scent of cinnamon and flannel. “I am sorry for scaring you, Kate.”

Two pairs of arms wrap around her, Natasha’s red hair tickling her cheek as Kate rubs absently at the knots in her back. “Don’t be. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“Did I ruin the silly little July 4th?” the blonde whispers after a moment, her eyes half lidded as she stares at the wall through Kate’s ponytail.

“No, baby. Not at all. Everyone just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

Yelena groans loudly and presses her face into her wife’s neck. “Great, all those posers have their attention on me.”

Both Kate and Natasha rumble a soft laugh. “Those posers are your family, and they love you very much.”

“I know, I know.” Yelena presses closer to Kate. “Can we just… stay in here for a bit? Please?”

“Of course, my love.” Kate rests her hand on the nape of her wife’s neck, tucking her under her chin while Natasha continues to run her fingers down Yelena’s spine.

“We can stay here as long as you need.”

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

About the TFRB x AEMH crossover, what do you think the Avengers would think of Priscilla? (Maybe also what they think of her being with Cody?)

Sorry I had to do some quick doodles for this ask. TAKE THEM, THEIR HORRIBLE!

If I'm allowed to use my hc that Simon is Priss dad, then this will be angsty. And if I don't use that idea, then it would still be angsty as Madeline could work as an antagonist for Tony because they work in similar fields but Madeline steals the products to claim them as hers..

I really don't know in which place of the timeline we would set this up if between seasons 2-3 or on season 4 after Madeline is arrested. But well 😋

-Cap is the type of guy who likes all types of children no matter how destructive or arrogant they are. Though Priscilla is hard to open. I think that Priss would remind Cap of another woman who is hard to open up to, but is nice deep down (I'm referring to Madame Viper. And who knows, maybe Madame Viper worked once for Madeline too)

-Tony might not like Priscilla at first. He is a very busy man and has no time for bratty children, more if they're the kids of his competition. However, after getting numerous propositions from Pynch Industries he ended up desecrating, for then purchasing Simon Innovations. An angry Priscilla comes at his door screaming how he has ruined his family even more... so yea, it wasn't a really good first impression, but they warm up with time.

-Thor as the god of thunder and prince of Asgard would be the most interesting Avenger to Priscilla, and Thor would hate it. The Asgardian knew that humans could be perseverant and an unstoppable force, something Priss proved to be. The girl is 11 and she already had levels of Enchantress manipulation, though Thor knew that she was still a kid who grew up with a mother worse than Enchantress herself. But it still made Thor tremble every time Priss showed up in front of him with a wide smile to ask ¨can I brush your hair?¨

-Banner and Hulk have come to the agreement that Priss is not the worst thing that has happened to them... and even when Priss is annoying at times, is a bit nice to have someone yell at you because you are not a monster but because you are annoying to her as well. Priss doesn't see Hulk as a monster which is surprising for many.

-Hank and Jannet are worried for Priscilla, mostly Hank who after a deep investigation found out what Madeline was doing in the shadows and what was planning if she killed made an alliance with Tony.

-T´challa is impressive as to how obstinate Pricilla is, how cold, and how calculator she could be all thanks to the teachings of her mother. But Priscilla was still innocent, a little kid who didn't know better and was never put a stop as a conscious decision to keep her as an obedient brat. It made T'challa that things were never as black and white as some pointed out. Priscilla has the chance to be the bad guy or the good guy, and T´challa hopes that maybe some of his teaching shows Priss that one route will be better than the other. The route may take away a lot of things/people that Priss loves, but is the best path to live.

-Hawkeye won't stand for Priss shenanigans and will ping her with one of his arrows to a wall just to annoy her and make him leave him alone. But Priss just like Cody is a force to fear, more if you ruin one of her prettiest dresses. Clint learned that with a bomb of glitter exploding on his face...

To summarize, everyone on the team has different views on Priscilla, but they all mostly agree that Madeline played (or well didn't?) a part in Priscilla's education and teaching her how to act. Everyone and Cap would be a bit worried that Cody has a secret crush on her, but the kid has proven capable enough to deal with this (or so they think ashdkjahd)

Wasp is a shipper like Dani so a lot of chaos suffers with this...

[tonystarktogo]

PLEASE continue As Subtle As Cognitive Recalibration. I’m missing 2012 avengers with 2023 shenanigans so bad

Natasha would like to say that she notices something is off immediately—and if anyone asks that is what she will claim and good luck trying to prove otherwise—but the truth is it’s not until a good five minutes after Clint has woken up, heavily concussed and beat up but himself, in the back of their not-quite-stolen getaway car that she realizes it.

Which is a solid two hours after Stark catches on. Stark.

Granted, Natasha has had other things on her mind. Like the alien capable of mind-control getting a hold of the one person she might actually one day admit to count as a real friend without lying, should the stars align and the confession suit her purpose. Or the invading army that followed on said alien’s heels.

But that is no excuse to discard the many, many inconsistencies she’s observed but ignored or brushed off instead of questioned like her instincts have insisted with increasing alarm ever since she has watched Rogers and Banner hover over Stark like he might disappear the second they take their eyes off of him.

There’d been speculation in Rogers file that he might be positively inclined towards Stark on the grounds of his familiarity with Howard Stark but even if SHIELD’s attempt to discourage a connection with such a volatile asset had failed that still wouldn’t explain the depth of Roger’s emotional reaction to Stark.

Don’t even get her started on Banner.

Stark stands for everything Bruce Banner has done his best to avoid since he got his monstrous green personality addition. The way he has actively sought Tony Stark at his most sarcastic out makes no sense whatsoever. Nor does the tension between Banner and Rogers, that screams of frustration born out of long-held disagreements stretched out over years, not a twenty minutes long acquaintance.

And all that doesn’t touch on the fact that the Asgardian crown prince Thor has treated all of them—Stark and Natasha included—like long lost friends.

Not just in the way he’s greeted Stark with an actual hug either. Big, boisterous statements are easier to fake, though what aim such a pretense would serve Natasha doesn’t know, but it’s the little things that made her pause, almost succeeded in distracting her from her primary goal of getting Clint back.

The loaded glances. The unfinished sentences that were understood nonetheless. They way they stepped into formation reflexively the moment the explosion shook the helicarrier, like they knew where everyone else would stand. Like they’d been in that position before.

She set it aside because she needed to focus on Clint. So that is what she did.

Natasha doesn’t regret that because Clint needed her and now he’s alright. Bloodied and fucked-up but himself.

But she does regret letting all those hints go, just a little, because Clint may be himself but it only takes her five minutes in his company to know for sure that he’s not the same.

He tackles her in a hug that almost gets them killed the moment he regains consciousness—which is actually the most in-character thing she has seen him do so far—but he doesn’t tap their agreed upon all-clear signal out against her shoulder. He doesn’t flinch or tense when he catches sight of Loki—and yeah, the guy might be a victim too, but how would Clint know that? And even if he does, that still doesn’t mean no reaction to his presence at all.

Most damning though is that moment in Stark’s elevator, just before the doors open and they step out onto the roof and it’s a lightening quick motion someone else might have missed but Natasha is watching for it and she knows exactly what she’s seeing. Mere seconds before stepping into a potentially life-threatening situation, Clint doesn’t look to her. Instead his gaze flicks to Rogers, to Banner, to Thor, and he takes his cue from them.

He’s subtle about it and he does clock her and Stark too, as is only expected, but that first reflex doesn’t lie.

So while it might have taken Natasha longer to catch on than she’d prefer, she knows. The question now is what she’s going to do with that knowledge.

Natasha leans back in her seat, a position that reinforces the relaxed air she’s been so carefully feigning ever since they’ve stepped into this slightly run-down local restaurant whose staff has been handling their unexpected and strange customers surprisingly well so far, lets her gaze roam over their curious group—takes in the way Thor pushes more food onto Loki’s plate every time their wannabe conqueror finishes, how Clint keeps shooting looks at her, not so much like he’s trying to communicate and more like he’s checking if she’s still there, while Rogers and Banner throw unexpectedly cutting barbs at each other when they aren’t trying to pull Stark into a conversation—and does what she does best: she plots.

Let's be real, nothing good can come from this.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

first of all congrats on booking your wedding date at the courthouse! so happy for you!

But that makes me think of your characters immediately . Which Character would ruin your wedding? Either by signing their name to your license or some other shenanigans

Lmaooo aside from Long Snake Moan Loki forging a wedding license, hahah.

Lloyd filed a marriage years ago for legal purposes. You were never really a thing at all. You haven't seen him in years but when you're about to get married for real, it's messy.

Nick has you sign a pre-nup but oops you're already married. Also Andy would do similar.

Also I've had Thor pull the old 'these asgardian things mean we're married but you have no idea what you're doing by accepting them' trick in a fic or too haha

[valyrfia]

i'm so compelled by your steve and tony thesis on the tags under this post https://www.tumblr.com/valyrfia/761331351932829696/exactly-if-i-wanted-best-friends-i-would-be-into?source=share that i (after having spent my teenage years reading stucky) want to try it out. do you have any fic recs to get me started?

Oh boy anon I haven't read stevetony since 2020, but it's such a formative ship to me that a few fics still stand out in my mind. If you're interested I'll leave them and comments on the impressions they left on me below the cut.

Quick disclaimer that Marvel is often treated as a multiverse to differentiate between comics and movie canon. The main comics canon is 616, and the movies are just the MCU. There are other comics canons and multiverses, but 616 is the main one you need to get your head around for a lot of these comics-related fics. The MCU is vaguely based off of 616, but the most important aspect to wrap your head around if you want to delve into fic and don't want to read the comics is that Civil War in 616 ended with Steve almost killing Tony, not able to bring himself to do it and surrendering, Steve getting shot on the way to his trial and dying, Tony becoming director of SHIELD and becoming severely depressed over Steve's death, and then via other plot happenings having to delete his memory INCLUDING the fact that Steve died, and Steve resurrecting via sci-fi shenanigans. This arc along with The Confession and The Oath are what mainly fuel stevetony.

Okay, now that the primer is out of the way without further ado here are some fics I read in my teenage years that irrevocably changed my brain chemistry with regard to how I choose to ship anything ever.

When I Think (Oh It Terrifies Me) by celli - 8k, E

Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things.

This is the first fic I ever bookmarked on ao3. It's short and snappy and fun and serves as a great little primer, especially since it's MCU!

almeno tu nell'universo by silkspectred - 114k, E

Tony drives off. Well, he wants to. But he can’t. Because. Steve Rogers is in front of his car. Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

Complete change of pace from the one above, but still MCU–this is Steve and Tony locked up together in the Italian countryside after the events of Civil War where Italy herself is as much a character as anything. I had the absolute privilege of reading this as it was released chapter by chapter and just remember it being breathtaking.

The Last Love Song of Anthony E. Stark by jibrailis - 42k, M

After contracting an Asgardian virus, Tony starts forgetting things. And people. And Steve.

All I remember of this is that it was the first fic I ever properly sobbed my little heart out to. I would recommend a thousand times over, I remember the settings and character work especially being really well done. It's also MCU!

wear it like a message by starvels (dinosaur) - 10k, E

Steve and Tony have some negotiations about how to wear rings and dog tags on your person when you’re a superhero badass wearing skin tight body armor. Also, they kiss a lot.

There's a common trope in stevetony that is vaguely described by 'peak battle couple', and I think that's definitely one that you would enjoy especially if you come from a Lestappen background. It's 616, but I seem to remember there's not a lot of actual plot knowledge required.

America Isn't Chicken by Dr_Amuly - 130k, E

After a Civil War, death, rebirth, a takeover by Osborn, brain deletion, and the fall of Asgard, Steve and Tony might just be starting to get back on solid ground with one another. Things aren't perfect, not yet, but they can be in the same room as each other without resorting to violence, and they've even managed to share a smile or two. Seems like the perfect time, then, for Tony to try and fuck it all up with a stupid game of gay chicken. Meanwhile, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, Tony realizes some kind of supervillainous trouble is brewing when increasingly advanced armors start popping up all over Manhattan, looking strangely reminiscent of his tech. On the other side of the world, Steve gets news that Zola is on the move in Russia, with some sort of nefarious plan at work. Which will ruin them first? Will it be this unknown armored villain who is after Tony's tech? Or will it be Zola unleashing his mysterious plan on the world? Or will Steve and Tony prove to be their own worst enemies, destroying the tentative truce they managed to forge with their own stubbornness?

Don't be intimidated by the length of this, or by the fact that it's 616. Amuly was long a famous author of the fandom because they have a real gift for crafting excellent, engaging, and accessible novel-length fics. I would actually say this is the perfect primer for getting to grips with the world and universe of 616 while also being a hot and hilarious fic.

Belief Space by magicasen - 59k, M

The Time Gem appears not when it is wanted, but when it is needed. Steve learns this the hard way. (Or: an Infinity #6 AU where Thane refuses his birthright and the Avengers are doomed - until the Time Gem shows up within Captain America's grasp.)

I would definitely caution that you need to be pretty familiar with 616 canon to enjoy this one, but I gained all my knowledge through fics and context clues so once you've established that return here. THIS is my favourite fic of all time. I can't NOT recommend it. That is all.

[dreamycloud]

WIP Wednesday

Andddd I’m getting to work on the second chapter at last of my newest fic where Mobius goes to New Asgard to start his life without Loki post finale. But with New Asgard comes Thor and Love shenanigans ✨ Anyone lurking on Lokiustwt like me will recognize the mugshot moment—thank you for the inspiration, it was so perfect for this section!

Love touched the back of Mobius’s hand. “Don’t you have any pictures of him to hang up?”

Thor felt hunger bubble up from his heart. He wanted to see this Loki. This other version of the one he knew and loved.

The man’s cheeks burned as he shifted to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “There is one photo,” he admitted, opening the wallet. “See, the TVA isn’t exactly the kinda place for memory-making. We didn’t take photos of each other. So the only picture of Loki I have is…”

“… his mugshot?” Thor let out a bark of a laugh when he saw Mobius unfold a piece of paper.

Love laughed too and scooted closer to Mobius, grabbing his arm so she could lean over the photo.

The paper was a clearly a copy, black and white and a little grainy. To the right of the photo was a listing of facts about Loki; from what Thor understood, it was all accurate. His height, probably his weight, birthplace as Jotunheim (a family secret recorded so plainly here that Thor had to believe Mobius was telling the truth), sex as fluid, which also tracked with his sibling.

Sequence violation as Loki’s charge caught his eye; Thor remembered Mobius explaining Loki’s escape, which was never supposed to happen and got him into trouble with the TVA. How strange it was that a bit of mischief ballooned into saving the multiverse. He had a brother out there when he thought he had lost Loki forever.

“He looks miserable,” Thor said, jabbing at the photo.

“Yeah well, following procedure, his Asgardian clothes were removed before he was issued the jumpsuit,” Mobius said with a fond look.

“That was before he met you,” Love said, tracing the sharp bones of Loki’s face imprinted in ink.

“Yes,” Mobius whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

[widderwise]

Prompt: Children of Eternity

Prompt: Children of Eternity

So this would be a Shazam/Thor: Love and Thunder Crossover (though with very little Thor himself)

Shazam has Billy Batson as the hero Shazam/Captain Marvel who is based out of the Rock of Eternity. This could work on either comic version or movie version, the main difference (that I care about) being just how old Billy is. I find how silly he is in Shazam 2 a bit hard to take if he’s almost 18. That attitude makes far more sense as a much younger Billy ala comics. There are other differences obviously but for condensed movies I find them entertaining as is. The deeper lore is always better, but done poorly would not be an improvement.

Anyway.

I imagine Billy and his siblings are chilling in their lair at the Rock of Eternity when one of the fancier doors in the lair that they could never open (one of the siblings liked to explore the doors). Out tumble a bunch of dirty, underdressed, not all human looking kids (if any are human, we know there are aliens and Asgardians) who were obviously just fighting and sparking electricity.

These kids would, of course, be the kids Gorr kidnapped in Thor: Love and Thunder and brought to the Gates of Eternity where Thor empowered them to fight the monsters.

Things in common:

-Rock of Eternity full of weird doors… Gates of Eternity…. A natural meeting point between DC and Marvel?

-Kids empowered by gods (in this case Thor-he said ‘temporarily’, but his time sense compared to a humans? Also, with Rock of Eternity/dimensional influence?)… some may be baby gods or demi-gods themselves, depending on how either world defines gods? (Heimdall’s son) Some are just aliens.

- Homeless/parentless kids with divine abilities…

So from there it can go a few ways. I suppose in some nice writer’s headcannon the kids could get home easily and safely and quickly….

Or the door could lock again behind them, probably a safety mechanism to keep the monsters off the rock. And to open the door they need the key, like Gorr and Thor did to get to Eternity. So that would lead to a quest… but what do we do with all these inhuman kids (probably at least a little hurt, most in pajamas at best, some little- and that assumes the older looking ones age at a human scale. We know the Asgardian’s don’t)

So do they wait for Thor to come? Or do they make chaos trying to get home? (Is that a real question?)

I could see the Shazam family trying to take care of the kids at the lair while working on solutions (cue shenanigans)

How do the foster parents react to their kids acting even more strange? Where is all the food going? Why so much laundry?

Eventually they’d get caught out and Billy has to ask for help. Diana for the godly aspect. Superman/Martian Manhunter/GL for the aliens. Batman for the adop… I mean child support. Yes, making sure the kids have what they need.

In the end Thor et allies will come through in some chaotic ridiculous way (goats scream) and meet Diana somewhere in the middle. Everything works out. Or does it?

[siconetribal]

Hey!! I have a request for you!

So I'm thinking you work at shield and have to show Loki and Thor around since they are new. You always crack terrible jokes when you are nervous but Thor finds you hilarious and even Loki admits some of them are fairly clever (high praise coming from him). You realize they've never heard most of the recycled jokes or puns you used and decide to take advantage of that.

Tower Tour for Two

Pairing: None

Warning: Puns, word play, wit, shenanigans, dad jokes, and all around foolery

Summary:

All new personnel to SHIELD need to know where to go from day one. The best way to do that is through a tour. The Asgardian princes were no exception. With no crisis in need of their participation, the two are set up with a guide that keeps them on their toes.

Author Note:

I am so sorry for the delay in answering this request! I wanted it to be absolutely perfect! Furthermore, I do hope you like this, and it lives up to what you were expecting from the shenanigans between a punderful Y/N and the two austere princes of Asgard! Also, I completely made up the floors and numbers based off an image @vbecker10 showed me.

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“Tell me again why we are being subjected to this ridiculous obligation of needing some nanny around the compound?” Loki let out an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. None of this seemed to quite add up to him. Thor has been part of this team for some time now, and they had never thought of something so trivial. However, when they decide to accept me this is suddenly something mandatory? I find that highly suspicious.

“It is because they wish to give us a proper introduction. With all the emergencies that happened and my frequent leaving to Asgard, there was no real time for this to come about. With you being newly accepted, they thought it wise that the two of us go through it together. Better than having to waste time setting up two separate sessions.” Thor chuckled at his fifth repetition. He knew his brother was not forgetful, he was simply trying to find a loophole out of this. “It is a simple tour, Loki. It will be done sooner than you’re making it out to be. It is not like they are giving the grand tour of the Asgardian castle.”

“If this place were remotely as big, I would have done everything in my power to make sure this never came to pass.” Loki scowled. “It is not the size of the facility that concerns me, it is the ridiculous notion that they think we are incapable of learning where to go.”

“Ah, but they are taking efficiency into consideration. The time it takes for us to learn our way around will be drastically cut if we are given this tour. Which will increase the overall efficiency of how SHIELD and the Avengers will run. Precious time needed for missions and planning would not be lost on someone unsure of where to find the proper meeting room or attend some training session. You, above all else, know how important it is to be efficient.” The God of Thunder smiled at his brother, clapping a firm hand against his back. “You will see, this will be highly useful. The fact that they even are allowing you to know where everything is a huge sign of their trust as well! If they did not trust you, they would not take the time to teach you where everything is.”

That or they want to make sure I know where everything is. So that if I were to ever use the reasoning of being lost, they can remind me of this dreadful waste of time and accuse me of something sinister. The God of Mischief kept his skepticism to himself, not wanting to dampen his brother’s mood. Though, he did wonder if there was something that could do such a thing. The thought of his feigned deaths suddenly came to mind, but he quickly pushed them aside.

“Well hello, hello!” A chipper voice greeted the two Asgardian princes from behind, the two towering royals turning to see a singular female SHIELD employee who was clearly far too excited to be here. The sunny disposition seemed almost illegal compared to the rigid and professional demeanor that were standard with all other SHIELD personnel. Perhaps this person was lost and was actually an experiment on happiness? Thor looked towards Loki with a raised brow, who raised both of his in response and shrugged, removing the burden of possibly knowing anything about this odd human. He was just as clueless, if not more so for actually being new, than his elder brother.

“Don’t everyone all talk at once now! Sheesh, have you never been greeted before? Talk about needing a lesson in manners.” She frowned.

“Pardon our rudeness, but are we acquainted?” Thor took the lead after another lengthy pause.

“Ah, the lord doth speaketh!” She gasped, the corner of Loki’s lip twitching as Thor slightly lowered his head as a sign of apologies. “We weren’t formally introduced, but you were both instructed to come here for the tour of the tower with me.”

“So you are Y/N?” Loki questioned, his intense gaze carefully observing to see if this was some sort of trap or test. 

“Well, last I checked it was.” She glanced down at her name tag that was hung from the lanyard around her neck, a variety of novelty pins decorating the fabric. “Yup, still is.” He scowled at her attitude. “Do not worry, I understand, I am used to rendering people speechless.” She boasted with pride.

“Is that so,” Loki felt the prick of unease at the back of his mind.

“Yes, we have heard you are quite the guide.” Thor elbowed his brother at the look of mistrust that was on his face. “Rogers and the others have had nothing but positive things to say about you. However, we have jumped ahead without proper introductions. My name,” he tried to correct their rude beginning but stopped at her raised hand.

“No need, there’s nothing Loki about either of you, aside from his name anyway. I made sure to do a Thor-ough look into whom I would be guiding this morning.” As she grinned, Loki grimaced. That feeling of unease was not to be ignored.

“Clever,” the elder prince laughed at her wordplay. “Very well, by your lead, then.”

“Thank you,” she gave a small bow before stretching her arms out wide. “Foyer information, this is the foyer. To our left, through those double doors, is where SHIELD holds most, if not all, press hearings. Sadly, there’s no let-go room. I keep telling them we need it, how else is there going to be a release? Makes you think, what good is a hearing when they aren’t even listening.” She sighed.

“So that is why they are called as such? I always wondered why. They really should invest in such things, to hold on for too long is never healthy.” Thor nodded his head in agreement, while Loki felt his left eyebrow twitch. That feeling of unease had grown. Was it too late to turn back now? He eyed the front door behind them, measuring the distance and how long it would take him if he made a run for it.

“Aside from that room, there isn’t much else aside from the desk. The decor isn’t the greatest, but the reception is phenomenal.” She pointed to the reception desk as she walked towards the elevators. “Come along, we’ve gotta head to the next floor. Don’t mind the elevators, they have their ups and downs. I think we caught them in a good mood today.”

Dammit, I should’ve sent an image of myself. Loki clicked his tongue before straightening his back and turning to join the two. Thor was wrong, this was going to be a very long day. A tour of the castle would have been shorter.  He feared for his sanity as they stepped out onto the second floor

“It’s pretty quiet right now, but it’s usually pretty busy. The second floor, here, up until the fifth floor, are all human relations. Though sometimes it can be a bit alien at times, they’re all definitely human and are pretty relatable for the most part. Though I don’t recommend them for any dating advice, they like to keep it professional.”

“As they should,” Thor once again agreed, and Loki’s eye began to twitch.

“And right you are, thunder boy!” She grinned, turning them back to the elevator as skipping straight to the sixth floor. Stepping out, this floor looked almost identical to the second one. The two looked around curiously for any differences before shifting their attention to Y/N who stepped forward and turned to face them. “So, as you can see, we’re all pretty square here with all these cubicles. Sixth floor to the tenth floor is where you’ll find the work stations of the agents and the offices for higher ranking staff. The agents are great and all, but some of these big wigs are walking economy lessons.”

“What do you mean?” The elder Asgardian asked before the younger could stop him. She was leading them in more ways than one, and he was not enjoying either direction.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but their hairline is in a recession, their stomachs are always inflated like their egos, and the two together leaves everyone in a great depression.” She whispered, and Loki actually smirked. Perhaps she had some things of value to say. “I can’t really let you into anything here, private stuff and all that, so up we go!” She motioned them back to the elevators, where they went straight to the eleventh floor. “Alright, so here you might find things to be a little dull…because here until the twenty-first floor is none other than the boardrooms!”

I take back what I said, it was a rare moment of entertainment. Loki sighed as they followed her down a few halls, and she opened one of the doors.

“This is one of the larger ones, but each room is equipped with state-of-the-art technology. Holograms, interactive models, surround sound, and HD screenings! Sadly, the seating isn’t the best and only reclines so much. But other than that, you’ve got one fancy theater experience every time.” She grinned, Thor taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“They are quite nice though. But why are the tables bolted down?”

“So they can be well grounded.” She answered far too quickly, and Loki shook his head. “In all seriousness, it’s to avoid trouble. Tables are normally supposed to be movable furniture, but after the last few issues here with explosions and infighting, it was deemed safer to have them bolted to avoid anyone possibly getting hit by them. The chairs do move around, but when you tuck them in under the table, the arms magnetize to the table with a force that is fairly difficult to break if the room is not unlocked properly. If you noticed, when we entered I lingered at the entryway, that’s because I needed to let the room know it was in use, so the table would release the chairs.” She walked back towards the door and motioned for Thor to stand. He did as told, and she punched in a code where the lights shut off and the chair chairs all jerked up and a series of clicks were heard. “Now the room is set to lock when we leave.” She pushed the door open wider, Loki having noticed that she had cracked it open prior to punching in the code. “The other meeting room floors are similar to this one. The designs may be different from floor to floor in the sense that some have round tables while others have rectangular and possibly minor changes in screen size, but overall they are the same.”

“Things are quite secure here.” Loki noted aloud, curiosity about this strange SHIELD employee starting to grow in the back of his mind.

“I would hope so, they’re supposed to be the guardians of Earth. They’d be nothing but insecurities otherwise.”

“Well said, Y/N. You are quick-witted with your words, just like Hawkeye and Black Widow mentioned.” Thor praised her.

“Don’t encourage her,” Loki hissed at him as they got back onto the elevator. It was obvious he was clearly taken by her little tricks.

“Come now, brother, there is nothing wrong with giving due praise to a job well done. Perhaps if you were more forthcoming with your compliments as you are with your snide remarks, you would not be seen as such a cruel person, and they would finally see the brother I adore.” He implored, earning yet another scoffing eye roll. Y/N watched the two silently, pressing the button for the twenty-second floor. It was painfully obvious that Thor adored Loki openly, while Loki was more reticent in his affections.

The tale of the two mythological deities was known far and wide since their first arrival, and even more so since the infamous incident in New York. Much like the majority of Earthlings, she initially hated the younger prince for all the harm he had caused. The damage, despair, and devastation he wrought on them was nothing small and unforgivable. She never wanted to be left so powerless ever again, incapable of helping anyone. Thus, she embarked on climbing her way and successfully joining SHIELD. She was not able to work on the field as an agent, but she managed to secure a rather unique position where only a few were capable of managing. It was through this training and top level clearance that she became aware of many things, like the Mind Stone and how it perverted and polluted Loki’s insecurities and anguish. None of it justified his actions, but he became someone understandable. They were less out of reach, more relatable. They two were living and breathing with emotions like anyone else, not something above them. 

I know they’re stronger than the average human, but they’re brothers like any other. Bickering siblings with opposite dispositions that adore one another. She smiled to herself as she stepped out before them. “Alright. From here up to the thirtieth floor is where the fun starts. You could say Stark was raving mad when he funded so much of the things here, but he’s lab hatter. All the tech and research goes on here. It’s a little sad that physicists and biologists don’t get along so well.” She let out a heavy sigh, Thor and Loki around before settling their eyes on here.

“And why is that? Trouble in paradise?” The second prince raised a well manicured brow. Y/N could only imagine the two were into grooming routines, and they were professionally done, otherwise it was cruel to every average woman out there just how perfect these two were.

“You could say that they lack chemistry.” She smirked at the slight scowl she earned from him. He had made such a big deal about feeding into her little games and walked right into one himself. He could see the shine of victory in her eyes, and he had to admit, it was well played. Not only that, but he would never admit to it aloud, of course.

“And what would be the importance of chemistry?” Thor wondered, not sure how that played between the two types of scientists.

“Well, it has all the solutions, and It is fairly good at bonding.” She added matter-of-factory, Thor nodding his head in agreement. “Yes, Jane and Dr. Erik did have trouble relating with others from time to time, perhaps chemistry was lacking.”

“No comet on astrophysicists,” she snickered as they walked through the halls and peered in through the windows. “All the glass here is highly reinforced,” she lightly knocked on one as they stopped at a random door. “I can’t let you in due to the nature of what’s inside and any experiments that may currently be in progress, but you can take a swing at the glass to test it out. Stark has made sure to improve after learning from any prior mistakes to minimize casualties. It’s Avenger and danger proof.”

“If Stark is involved, then there is no doubt that he has extensively worked on it for it to be so.” Thor proudly spoke of his companion, Loki curiously observing the window. He stepped closer, tapping on the glass and listening to the vibrations. It was a rather dull sound. It was a very dense and thick sheet.

The metal midgardian certainly enjoys his little trinkets and toys. I could simply use my magic to conjure myself into the room, however. What good is this resilience, then? He smirked, feeling that he may have bested the genius playboy philanthropist.

“You could try,” Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts. “But that’s at your own risk. Like the other rooms here, you need to engage the room prior to entering, and these rooms are only allowed entry through specific key cards. If anyone were to find a way without this channel, they would have to deal with the security that would automatically be triggered. So, unless you have dreams of being Swiss cheese, I would disa-brie on any attempts of just appearing inside. Come along, up we go!” She turned on her heel and led them back up to their rectangular chariot. “Any questions so far? Comments, concerns, suggestions are all welcomed.”

“Nothing,” Thor shook his head.  “You are going excellently and answer any of the questions before we even have time to even think of them. I can see why they praise you so highly among the other members.” He gave her a broad grin, and she smiled in kind.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. This ain’t the most exciting thing you could be doing, believe me, I get it. So, I try to keep it short, sweet, and fun.”

“Fun for whom?” Loki muttered.

“Myself, I’m the one guiding you after all. Gotta help myself get through this just as much as you do.” She gave him a wink and laughed as he scowled. It was obvious they were both enjoying this for various reasons, so she chose not to tell him, she could tell this scowl was more forced than the others so far.

“Now, here are the floors that are worth the weight, the next five floors are about two floors each in height, they’re the gyms and rec rooms. From battle simulations in the VR to real word pumping iron, there is no bar too high in this place…well for you anyway.” She looked up at Thor and Loki. “For me, there are quite a few out of my reach. I won’t go into too much detail here, you’ll be scheduled for a fitness and analysis exam, so they’ll run you through the various simulations and fancy gizmos and gadgets then.” There was obvious excitement and interest in both the brothers' eyes, and she could not help the small snicker that came out as she led them up to the thirty-sixth floor. “We’ll keep it short here, mission briefs and observations happen on deck here. And you can look out the windows and observe a lovely view of the compound and city as well while you’re at it. This is one very wide floor.” She explained as they went to the far end where there was a lovely view of the city before heading up to the next floor.

“This is the not so common choice of a common area. Usually these types of floors are near the ground floor if not the ground floor itself. But, what’s common about superheroes and aliens as a whole?” She shrugged. “Here is where you’ll be able to relax between missions and training or simply don’t want to be in your room. The best part of this floor is actually over here.’ She grinned, a little speed in her steps as she led them to two rather ornate double doors. “This is a place you can always check out,” she slid her key through the reader and turned the knobs. Pushing the two doors open with great flourish to reveal a very grand library with a glass dome like ceiling, stairs leading to the four floors above and one below. “This is a place where I can't help my shelf and spend hours. But personal interest aside, you can bring beverages into the library, you just can't pour milk over the serials here. They’ve got all sorts of books here now that we know some myths are not so fictitious.” She pointedly looked at the two of them. “I know it’s pretty booked, but you can always leaf through as needed.

“And why would they have such a place at SHIELD?” Loki asked, taking a step forward, followed by another, and several more until he was in front of a shelf and pulling one of the leather-bound pages from it.

“Knowledge is key, and sometimes the old-fashioned way is the best way or only way. Like I said, things of lore are no more and not everything is metadata. Also, this is part of the floors where one can simply step out of the digital world and unwind. Can you imagine what the public would do if one of the eligible bachelors or bachelorettes of the Avengers was seen in the public library? We’d have mobs of paparazzi and feral fans trying to get their chance to be seen with them. There’d be no peace and quiet. Having our own mini library was the best solution. It does not have everything, but it helps minimize the need to go out and be seen frequenting a location. Villains and mosey people alike won’t set their sights on a place where the public is free to come and go.”

Thor walked over to his brother, pulling out another book and quickly skimmed through it. He was not as avid of a reader as his brother, but he knew and respected the importance of knowledge. This place would be very useful to the two who were not as technologically savvy as the Midgardians. Y/N watched as Loki slowly read the first few pages of the book he chose, while Thor skimmed through several books. He did linger on a few, looking at the title twice before returning it to its spot.

“Reading time will have to be another time. Once you get your key card, you have free access to the books here, and you can check them out with the librarians as needed. Come along, only a few more floors to go.” She promised, Thor grabbed Loki by the back of his jacket and forcibly dragged him a few steps before he replaced the book and reluctantly followed them out back to the elevators. 

The brothers watched as she slid her card into a slot next to two rows of buttons and selected the number eight button in the second row of the two rows labeled as LQ. “This is where only certain personnel can enter. You both, other avengers, and some agents will be living here on the compound. As you can see, there are not that many floors, but each floor is similar to the gym and rec room floors in that each floor is two floors in height from eight to fourteen. The reason being is that eight upwards is where you and any other members of the Avengers will have a penthouse style apartment. Each is designed and decorated according to the specifications or desires of the occupant. No two rooms are going to be alike in details, but the basic blueprint will be the same for safety exits and code regulations. Floors one to four is where the agents that live here, guests, important visitors, and some time overtime employees will be residing. Floors five to seven is where their dining and entertainment will be. There is a mini theater, a large dining room kitchen with staff, and a mini library for them to spend their time. Their key cards will not allow them into your floor, but you will be allowed on their floors if you so wish. “ 

The doors of the elevator opened up to reveal a rather large hallway with only a few doors on either side. Floors eight to twelve will resemble this. As you can see, none of the doors look the same and have been customized to the comfort of the resident who stays in that space while here. The two of you will have your own apartments on the twelfth floor. On the thirteenth and fourteenth floor you will find similar amenities; a large state-of-the-art kitchen, fully staffed on request; a large dining area, personal theater, recreational activities such a bowling alley, billiards, and a private bar that has its own balcony facing the city. The last floor, the HQ floor, is where the leaders of SHIELD convene for their meetings and have their offices. I cannot allow you entry on that floor, so I will be leading you back down to the ground floor from here. And that is there is to say about this tower. Though we do have everything indoors, there are still many outside facilities on the grounds for certain activities. For example, large scale training or ability practice will take place in one of the various hangars and fields that are readily equipped and shielded from causing too much disruption in the building. Sometimes you may be flown out to more discrete locations to avoid unwanted attention as well.”

“They really have thought of everything.” Loki finally admitted to being somewhat impressed, mostly for the library. He and Thor silently mulled over all the information that was given to them. It was certainly a lot, and it became clear as to why they were put through the task. It was needed information, but also a warning that they would always be watched. Not just them as outsiders, but the Avengers as a whole were to be watched because they were a collective of beings that could single-handedly cause more trouble than any large scale militant group.

“Yes, they have, and that’s it for this personal tour. I do hope you enjoy your stay here at SHIELD. I wish you the best of luck always and success in your missions moving forward. Thank you for your time, enjoy the rest of your day.” She led them to the front doors and stepped out into the crisp air, the sun still in the sky. There was one fact that had consistently nagged at the back of their minds. A question they intended to ask, and yet never thought or had the chance to. Loki looked to Thor, who silently nodded his head.

“Y/N, what exactly is your position here at SHIELD?” She had access to every floor, detailed information, and knew where to say what and when. Only someone of high level clearance and trust would be privy to such, and she purposefully and expertly avoided the topic with thought-provoking information and clever words of misdirection. However, now was their chance. The two turned to face her. They would get their answers, but she was no longer there. In fact, there was no sign of her anywhere. Who exactly was Y/N.  It was clear now, this was only the beginning for the two of them at the mysterious organization known as SHIELD.