#at this rate ill have to make fanart of him myself. and we all know how badly that would go

[citizen-saint]

doodle for when you have nothing clever to say but you want more people to know about your favorite character

[shirt says "I just really wish more people knew about Dr. Cimmerian"]

[iamnmbr3]

Hey! This is a bizarre ask but hopefully a welcome one after *gestures at the destruction and fire*. I’m completely new to the Loki/thorki fandom, having essentially come in via the exit door by watching the Loki tv series first. I was honestly just watching it for junk value to have something in the background while I knit. However, when I realized that I didn’t understand anything by the middle of Ep. 1, I went back to watch Thor 1 so I could get what was going on. And HOLY SHIT I was utterly captivated by Loki’s character in the original movie, as well as by the Loki-Thor and Odin family dynamics. I’ve now watched through the films and have been increasingly disappointed by the portrayal of Loki (since Avengers 1 frankly) save a few glimmers of good characterization here and there.

I can’t believe that I’m getting myself into another queer coded (and now more than coded wtf) “villain” with a tragic backstory who’s done dirty by the fandom at large, but here we are! I’m also super into thorki because goddamn… they sure do have a Dynamic™.

So I guess my question is, what is actually good here? I feel like I’ve been trying to fight my way back to Kenneth Branagh!Loki, and have been largely unsuccessful within canon content. Do you have suggestions for a newcomer re: fics, fanart, and meta that actually treats Loki seriously? (and thorki as well?)

Hey! Welcome! Sorry about the mess *gestures at the garbage fire that is the TVA Show The Larry Show The "Loki" Show*

And this isn't a bizarre ask at all. It was really nice to receive actually! And yeah! I'm so glad you went back and watched the originals. The TV Show character is a completely new character played by the same actor who has nothing in common with the original character (who yes is absolutely fascinating and captivating and multilayered). Honestly I just think of the tv character as Larry, Loki's dumb lookalike cousin bc they have nothing in common lol. So glad the show led to you discovering good content...and thorki. And yeah Thor 2011 is amazing! It's so underrated. If you want meta relating to that and also just gushing about the film you can def check out my Thor 2011 tag.

My thorki tag of course has thorki stuff including art etc. I've also got an art tag which has both thorki and non-thorki works. If you want fic recs you can look in my fic rec tag which has a bunch of good stuff both thorki and gen.

Also here are some good thorki fics to start out with that I've really enjoyed. Most are ones I read early on when I just discovered the ship. Also @illwynd has a great thorki blog btw that you should def check out (and also their sideblog @throwbackthorki). Edit: I’ve also added some gen fic recs.

Thorki Fic Recs:

Chaos War by astolat (words: 34,203 | rating: E)

It was never easy to find Loki when he wanted to hide, but he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it at the moment. Probably he didn't think anyone from Asgard would be wasting their time hunting for him while the shining ones churned their way steadily through all the realm.

Loyalty at Any Price by seidrade (words: 22,663 | rating: E )

“This whole time, I’ve been searching the Nine Realms— alone— for answers to questions I barely know how to ask. I thought Heimdall at his watch, our father upon the throne, and most grievously… I thought you lost to me forever.” Thor’s resurgence of anger gives way to something like despair. He can’t tell whether he wants to pummel Loki into one giant bruise, or hold him and weep like a child.

When Thor returns to Asgard and exposes Loki’s deception, his demands for answers and Loki’s reluctance to give them soon bubble over into a cathartic confrontation.

Born to be Kings by Kadorienne (words: 66,618 | rating: T)

When the princes of Asgard made their ill-fated jaunt to Jotunheim, Odin arrived to fetch them before the frost giant grabbed Loki's arm. Odin was able to carry out his plan to make Loki his puppet king of Jotunheim. But how long will Loki remain an obedient puppet?

Yidrigar by epistolic (words: 5,174 | rating: M)

Sometimes I am envious, but never doubt that I love you.

The Heavy Crown by orphan_account (words: 10,024 | Rating: M )

Odin is dead. Loki must take up the mantle of King even as war threatens Asgard, Thor remains bereft of both Mjolnir and his immortality, and stress coupled with the knowledge of his heritage drives Loki to the brink.

No Common Thing by ravenbringslight (words: 8,283 | rating: E)

Loki follows Thor to a brothel and gets the shock of his life.

On the Eagle's Wings by illwynd (words: 2,975 | rating: T )

After Loki falls from the Bifrost, Thor begins to write him letters every day.

How long we were fooled by Ark (words: 28,227 | rating: E )

Loki is not a good man, he knows; there is something rotten in the core of him; and even a much better man might let Thor kiss him, since Thor still tastes of sizzling lightning, like gathering rain, like a desire so fierce and so awful to him that when released it could bring Asgard to its knees.

sunshine by thorvaenn (words: 18,257 | rating: E )

A post Infinity War fluffy piece.

Thor and Loki are among those who are trying to pick up the pieces, but must first fix each other.

Edit: And Some Gen Fic Recs too:

lose my idols to find my voice by Lise (words: 1,548 | rating: T)

This is no homecoming.

monstrare by Lise (words: 1,174 | T )

Loki is Asgard's second prince, brother to Thor, son of Odin and Frigga.

Isn't he?

farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear by Lise (words: 3,113 | rating: T)

Loki and the terrible, horrible, no good, very long delayed reckoning.

Five Times Loki Could Have Been A Villain by Kadorienne (words: 3,344 | rating: G | Character Death)

Five AUs where Loki is not a mere antagonist, but an actual villain.

He would have acted very differently.

When It Sings, When It Lies by dreamsthebirds (words: 14,145 | rating: G)

Thor AU, based on an awesome norsekink prompt for a scenario in which Heimdall doesn't open the Bifrost to Jotunheim, Odin doesn't ride to the rescue, and Loki is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Interdimensional journeys, shattering emotional revelations, and walking trees ensue.

Ichor in Violet by tirsynni (Words: 14,574 | rating: T)

When Thor learns that Loki can travel to other realms without Heimdall seeing, of course he convinces Loki to take them both to Jotunheim to hunt Frost Giants. There an accident unravels centuries of lies and threatens to unravel Loki, too.

The Sinking Feeling of Anticipation by JaggedCliffs (words: 8,624 | rating: G)

When Æsir come of age, they receive a gift from their parents, one meant to aid them in their adult lives. When a prince of Asgard comes of age, their gifts are not just for themselves, but for the realm.

Loki watched Thor receive Mjolnir at his coming of age ceremony – one of the greatest weapons in the realms, for one of its greatest warriors. Now, it's Loki's turn, and he knows Odin will grant him something just as magnificent.

Won't he?

Exsanguination by Lise (words: 8,610 | rating: G)

exsanguination /ex·san·gui·na·tion/ v.intr. To be drained of blood. (And all the rest.)

[andtheyweredeskmates]

Of Latte’s and Lingerie: MLBCN Coffee Shop AU

A part two to this fic I posted. Bc of quarantine I’ve been getting back into creating content like fanart and fics so I thought I’d actually do something with this instead of let it sit in a folder collecting dust. 

Quick Warning: For now I’m gonna say this is rated T for Teen and Up for language(I’m sorry I’m so vulgar and it translates a lot in my writing. my bf says its the russian in me) but if that changes I’ll be sure to post that in any future updates. 

Also I still really want to hear feedback on this because I’ve never really pursued fics and I’m always here for constructive criticism. Also if I feel like nobody likes it, for obvious reasons I’m probably not gonna do anything with it. Anywhoo, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

“What’s his name?”

Nino scratched his head.

“Uh, I dunno dude, it’s a cat.”

“Cat’s have names too ya know.” Adrien rolled his eyes.

“What is he eating?’

“Cheese! Its kinda all I have in my fridge right now.” Adrien got a little closer to the ravenous black cat, that was absolutely devouring the piece of camembert in front of him.

“Nino, do you know anything about cats.”

“No! It’s not like I’ve ever had one before. That’s why I texted you.” Adrien was able to scratch the little black cat behind the ears and he felt it purr. He smiled.

“Ill take him home with. I’ve been wanting to adopt a cat for ages.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. Adrien had been wanting a cat. But he’d never actually considered the possiblity of owning one. He’donly just got his own place and Adrien was still discovering all the possiblities of freedom when you lived on your own.

“Better you than me, you know I can’t take care of myself, let alone a whole other animal.” Adrien laughed.

“No kidding. Who only keeps cheese in their fridge?”

….

The whole way home Adrien’s eyes flashed to the little black cat that slept in his back seat. He couldn’t believe it was so calm. He was positive that most cats didn’t act like that, specifically around strangers.

He was subconciously brushing his hair out of his eyes, He wondered what it wouls be like if he cut it all off. He’s positive that would be the final straw for his father. He’d actually kill Adrien.

Adrien’s thoughts were everywhere. Before he knew it he was home, with no recollection of the journey. He was a little on edge since he’d told his father he wanted to quit modeling. For obvious reasons, Gabriel Agreste did not take it very well. But Adrien had prepared. He saved the hell out of his money, found a new place to live, a job as an interpreter at a non profit organization, and gathered all of his belongings. At least, the ones that mattered. He made sure there was nothing left for Gabriel to hold over his head.

“I’m an adult, father. I have a degree that I’d actually like to use. I know you mean well but it’s time for me to do what’s right for me. Your ambitions aren’t mine.”

The discussion ended with some choice words that weren’t worth repeating, Adrien didn’t like being on bad terms with his dad but for once in his life he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted and he was gonna take advantage of that.

He started small. There was suddenly a whole new world of food and Adrien would be damned if he didn’t eat it all. He was no longer limited to black coffee and protein shakes. He could finally gorge himself on pastries and sugar loaded frappuccino’s. God he was such a whore for a good mocha frappuccino. And Dunn’s knew exactly what was up when it came to a good mocha frappe. Loaded with chocolate and love and more chocolate.

Adrien was happy. But it didn’t mean that there wasn’t that nagging voice in his head, screaming that he needed to please his father. Adrien’s anxiety had been creeping up on him for weeks, ever since he’d moved out of his father’s home and it was starting to hit him like a fucking train. Maybe he needed to go to therapy.

Adrien was pulled out of his thoughts by the meowing cat in the back seat. And just like that, Adrien’s worries were drifting away.

“I think I’ll call you Plagg. What do you say to that?” The cat said nothing, and Adrien took it as approval.

“C’mon Plagg, lets get something to eat.”

…

“I’m so sorry Audrey, I don’t know how that happened.” Marinette was very stressed out. Actually, “very stressed out” didn’t even cut it. Marinette was on the verge of a goddamn heart attack. Audrey Bourgeois was easily the most difficult person to work for on the planet and she did not accept anything less than perfection. But luckily, Marinette’s work exceeded expectations in every capacity, which meant that she wasn’t going to be fired. Not today at least.

“It wasn’t your fault. But I swear on my Versace sunglasses Marinette Dupain-Cheng if you don’t find a new assistant, I’m going to fire your whole team. Do I make myself clear? You’re a professional now. Every detail matters. And not just in the clothes.” Marinette nodded her head.

“Of course!” Audrey’s eyes lingered on Marinette’s for a moment before she turned back to the line of lingerie that Marinette had slaved over.

“These pieces really are magnificent.” Audrey mumbled, her fingers ghosting over the fabric.

“You know my daughter may be modeling one.” Marinette nodded.

“I’m sure she’ll look great ma’am.”

“Have you ever met my Chloe? She’s about your age Marinette.” Marinette shook her head.

“Oh no ma’am, I don’t think so.” Audrey laughed for a moment.

“I’m sure you’ll despise her. She’s a lot like me.” Marinette’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“Oh, Audrey if she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’s great! Really.”

“It’s all right Marinette, I know who I am. I’ve been a bitch since I came out of the womb. But that’s what makes a businesswoman my dear. You really ought to take note if you want to own your own business one day.” Marinette scoffed internally. As if. Marinette didn’t even know how she was going to fire her assistant, let alone manage an entire company. Marinette knew who she was too. She didn’t have what it took to be a businesswoman. But she had what it took to be a fashion designer. So she was happy to be working at a major company, even if she did work for a bitch.

“Marinette I’m sure you’re exhausted. Feel free to go home. Now that we have this whole fiasco figured out.” Marinette sighed and nodded her head. She felt a little dead inside. Her exhaustion had hit peak levels and she couldn’t believe she let Tim talk her into Hot Chocolate. How naïve to think that something wouldn’t go wrong and keep her from her appointment with her pillow. Her very soft, comfy pillow. Marinette had never been more motivated to leave the office in her life.

When she got home, Marinette heard the purring at the door. She gave her little ginger kitty a soft smile and reached down to pick her up, nuzzling her face.

“Come on Tikki, let’s go to bed.”

Next Chapter

[ohayohimawari]

With Me Always - Milestone Drabble

Thank you for helping my blog reach another milestone! Thank you for following me here. I hope you enjoy the fanart that I reblog as well as my own creative endeavors.

I write these quiet, introspective pieces to acquaint myself with writing different characters and pairings. This is how I study and explore them, and I’m always happy to know that people enjoy reading them. I enjoy writing them. :)

This is also my 50th work on AO3! Milestones abound, haha!

I do not own these characters; I had a wonderful time exploring them.

With Me Always

Rated: T; no archive warnings apply

Pairings: KakaObi

WC: 1491

Summary: “Death strengthened the bond between Obito and Kakashi, not severed it.”

Read: AO3 or below the cut

With Me Always

Since he met Zetsu, Obito knew he wasn’t ever truly alone.

He’d witnessed enough of that creature’s omniscience to know that Zetsu had literally planted a piece of himself everywhere. Not even Kamui’s Dimension could offer Obito any privacy because of the pieces of Zetsu that he carried on himself. And whenever Kakashi discovered that shared space between them, it would become even more crowded.

Though for some time now, Obito had ceased to view him as an unwelcome intrusion.

Without knowing when it happened, Obito found himself frequenting the Konoha cemetery to visit his own grave rather than Rin’s. However, he was sure that it had everything to do with the official surviving member of Team Minato.

Kakashi’s self-loathing monologues angered Obito at first. It was compounded with the infuriating insult that Hatake sought friendship from a stone marker after refusing it from the person it honored. But what upset Obito the most was how empty he felt on the days when Kakashi didn’t visit the Memorial Stone at all.

It was Zetsu that pointed it out, of course, because true to Obito’s suspicions, he was always watched. As long as Zetsu didn’t bring it up, Obito didn’t question why he humored him.

Returning to Konoha was absolutely out of the question; Obito didn’t think he could walk freely around the village after unleashing the Nine-Tails upon it, although no one there knew of his transgression. Even if he could overcome his guilt and could somehow be forgiven, there was the problem of Zetsu.

However, Obito couldn’t keep himself away from the Leaf entirely. Just as he used to sit in the bushes outside of Kakashi’s home to watch him, he now sat in the bushes in the cemetery to do the same.

Watching Kakashi’s Will of Fire extinguish slowly both broke Obito’s heart and filled it with hope. No matter how much he swore his hatred for his former teammate, he hated to see him so used by Konoha even more.

In the darkness before dawn, when the moon and the sun were both hidden, it seemed the world around him held its breath, so Obito did too while he waited. In a few moments, he would either disappear, disappointed that there would be no visit, or linger longer in the shadows, closer to something like happiness. The familiar sound of sandals shuffling on the pavement interrupted the stillness, and Obito’s breath slipped silently through a relieved smile.

Kakashi’s appearance had altered again, and as much as Obito had despised the grey and black ANBU uniform, he thought the jōnin greens were infinitely worse. The vest hung off his shoulders, heavy, ill-fitting, and Hatake didn’t look comfortable in it at all.

Kakashi stood stiff, his arms limp, in a bout of silence that lasted longer than any other during his many, many visits to the Memorial Stone. Obito sat with his gaze fixed on his back, willing him to speak. Finally, he did.

“I’m supposed to be a sensei now.”

Obito bit his cheek to keep his snickers at bay. What was Lord Third playing at? How could he expect anyone to teach after they’d been chewed up and spit out by the Black Ops? Konoha must really be desperate if they put the task of molding their future shinobi on the shoulders of someone that wasn’t cut out for it.

“I’m not cut out for it, Obito.”

To think it, and to hear it admitted aloud were two different things, and it left Obito without snickers to stifle. The quiet that followed lasted long enough for pity to fester within him. Finally, Kakashi stirred again. He raised both hands to his face, and when they lowered again, they brought his mask and forehead protector down with them.

Then, he scoffed. “I don’t have the ability or patience to teach.” Kakashi glanced to the side before continuing in a hushed voice, “I have doubts that make me question whether or not I want to acquire either. I lack the will, Obito.”

Obito was sure he would’ve missed those words if he hadn’t wanted to hear them so badly. He crouched with every muscle tensed, his eyes focused on the forehead protector that looked ready to fall at any moment.

“How can I lead a team, of-of children…how can I be responsible for them when I couldn’t protect any of you—”

“Oh, would you shut up, Bakashi?”

It wasn’t the grand reveal that Obito had planned on, but he couldn’t keep his silence any longer. Kakashi had come so close to confessing contempt and dissonance for Konoha, that to hear him fall back on the same tired, old habit of blaming himself instead was too much. He was sure that Zetsu wouldn’t let this slide, so he decided to make the most of it and stood up from his hiding place.

Kakashi looked back at him over his shoulder, his face still bare and not surprised at all.

This unnerved Obito, and he felt twelve years old again when Hatake addressed him.

“You’ve gotten taller.”

“And you’ve gotten smaller,” he retorted, as their singular Sharingan eyes stared at each other. Obito blinked first. “I’ve been dead, and that’s how you greet me?”

“I talk to you almost every day; every day that I can come here anyway,” Kakashi still hadn’t blinked, hadn’t reached for a weapon, and hadn’t reached for him.

“You talk to a grave,” Obito accused.

“You think I like the sound of my own voice?” Kakashi tapped one finger on the scar that bisected his left eye. “It’s not my fault that you don’t answer.”

Obito felt his stomach drop and all of his anger with it. To think that someone, that Kakashi had an inkling that he was still alive filled him with a warmth that he’d forgotten could feel so sweet. “You knew?” He hated how vulnerable he sounded.

“You’re not as good as you think you are,” one corner of Kakashi’s mouth lifted in an attempt at smirking and then faltered. “And I’m not as good as others think I am.”

Obito walked toward him, closing the distance between them as his right eye searched Kakashi’s left.

“We share vision, Obito. I have glimpses at images that I can’t account for,” Kakashi turned to face him. “You’re with me everywhere I go, watching. I’m never alone. Even when I look in the mirror, you’re watching me.”

Obito stopped just before him, close enough to whisper. No words came to him as he realized that Kakashi was in the same predicament as himself. Whereas Obito loathed such an interference in his life, Kakashi spoke of it almost tenderly, as tenderly as someone like him could.

To be so utterly understood was profound.

“Every day, I hope that I won’t see something that will make you my enemy, Obito.”

So, Kakashi couldn’t see everything, leaving Obito with some secrets from him, at least. He hated it.

But if Obito could learn to understand and forgive Kakashi for Rin’s death, then perhaps Hatake could, in time, extend the same to him for Minato’s. “There is a way for us never to be enemies, Kakashi,” he whispered, exaggeratedly glancing around them to alert Kakashi that they might not be as alone as he thought.

Kakashi didn’t miss the cue, and Obito felt rather than saw him tense. This meant that their conversation would come to an end quicker than either of them wanted it to.

“You know I can’t do that, Obito,” Kakashi whispered. “Konoha needs me; I can’t leave it.”

“Why?” Obito struggled to keep his whispers hushed. “You know that it’s fatally flawed. This place is using you and using you up! Why are you so eager to volunteer yourself to defend it when you know—”

“It’s not the place; it’s the people within it, Obito.” Kakashi lifted one hand to Obito’s face, gingerly caressing the scars that marred it. “You taught me that.”

Obito regretted that lesson, proving that Kakashi wasn’t the only one that wasn’t cut out for teaching. As much as he wanted to argue, their time was running out, and Obito couldn’t stand the fact that Zetsu was watching Kakashi now, too.

Obito licked his lips, drew in a sharp breath between them, and pressed them to Kakashi’s.

Hatake accepted him more readily than he ever had before, his lips moving and parting, accommodating his. Obito was astounded that any part of Kakashi could be as soft as his lips were.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss; there was no urgency, no promise of fulfillment or gratification. It was a confession between them. An offering and acceptance, and Obito had never tasted anything so good.

He withdrew only when he had to breathe and rested his forehead against Kakashi’s. Their shared pair of Sharingan eyes met, memorizing, and reflecting the words that each man mouthed silently.

“Come with me.”

“Come home.”

 The End

[blipblorpsnork]

So I had a dream last night that for some reason really unsettled me? It wasn't a bad dream by any stretch of the imagination; it wasn't scary or greusome or, like. I don't know. It wasn't anything that woudl bother me. I think there's something underlying the dream itself, and that fear is what unsettled me.

At any rate, in the dream a whole bunch of shit I don't remember happened and at one point, myself and a non-descript group of friends were taken in for safety's sake by a recording studio. Something was going on outside of the building complex and it was far safer to be behind locked doors, more or less. We were wandering the halls and someone called out from a room mentioning they liked my shirt. I was, apparently (though I only seemed to be wearing it once it was called to attention, as is common in dreams) wearing an exclusive Markiplier shirt that had some super awesome fanart on it that was a super limited time thing, whatever it was, etc.

So we look into the room and it was actually Mark who'd made the comment, being cheeky and just wanting to say hi. And my non-descrpit friends all started freaking out while I just kinda laughed and said thanks, and they started like, being typical fans which in-dream didn't make me uncomfortable but in-person really, really would have. (Please treat people like people, guys, don't fan-person over them it can get really toxic really quick, which is what happened in-dream.) By the time the group got larger (idk how or why, I didn't know anyone anymore by that point it seemed) I was starting to get enormously uncomfortable with the crowd itself and nearly left with a kind of apology thrown over my shoulder.

Somehow or other I didn' actually leave though, and eventually shimmied off to a corner of the room where not as many people were and sat in a chair Mark gestured to. It was weird because he was literally the only person in the room who noticed I was there, and he and I were the only people with faces. The "fans" were featureless. But the crows thinned out and after a long stretch of time when it had, a couple people very politely asked Mark a few questions I didn't catch.

He started showing us this.. Roster of names, I think? But of actual names, not YouTube usernames. And they were fans who'd been with the channel a long time, who had helped it grow and remained wonderful people, who'd avoided toxicity and had payed all their goodness forward. And for some reason, Mark looked at me and asked me how I'd feel if he put my mother's name on the roster.

I smiled and told him I'd be fucking ecstatic for her, and that although she wouldn't admit it, she's a fan of his so she'd probably be really happy (that part is true) and made some silly joke about framing it on the wall. And Mark kind of watched me without saying anything, sized me up after the answer, nodded twice, and went back to dicking around on his phone. And he didn't say anything else. And the entire room got really weirdly stagnant and claustrophobic.

At the same time I realized he and I were the only ones in there and he was being a touch dismissive, so not wanting to be a bother anymore (it was just the atmosphere of the room, not really sure what changed), I asked if I could ask him something more pertinent, something that was really personal to me. And he was still scrolling on his phone but said yeah of course I could, what was up? And the second I took a breath to ask something that felt incredibly important, the entire dream went black.

I dreamed literal darkness for what felt like solid minutes. My dreams are always vivid or hyperrealistic; it's a side-effect of my mental illness. I've never dreamed of actual darkness like this before. And it felt ominous and suffocating and all I know is I woke up feeling weird. I'm not really sure what it was all about either. I dunno. It was just odd and I wanted to get it off my chest.