#because i’d go nuts doing the same body suit over and over again

[bearforceone3]

did some alien lanterns just to see how weird i’d get with their designs

[butwhyduh]

Hi if you still do request could you do a There is only one bed with Tim maybe with some teasing?

Warning: smut

“So it’s not ideal,” you said with a little smile that you covered with your hand. Tim was exasperated. You could slum it. He was not used to this.

Admittedly the cabin was worse that what you remember. As a kid, your family had visited every fall to pick apples and hike. Marshmallows by the fireplace before telling ghost stories and all.

But that was over 10 years ago and not in midwinter. Now the windows were boarded and the fireplace was barely useable. Which was good, as it was literally freezing.

When Tim had said he needed a place to crash after a mission for you both, you offered this place. It was only a few miles north of your location. But it was also trash. The couch leg gave way as Tim sat down and he almost fell to the floor.

“So this is technically a cabin in the woods. But I’d rather burn it to the ground,” Tim said. “I’m going to the bathroom, unless it’s an outhouse or just a hole in the ground.”

“No no. Real bathroom,” you motioned to it. He went in the other room. You sat on the bed, the only functional piece of furniture besides a dodgy table. You were glad that you brought extra sheets and the plastic protector over the mattress. After scrubbing the cover and putting on the sheets, you sat down to pull off your boots. Ice was still clinging to the bottom. You put them near the front door and stood by the fire. Tim came out changed into thick sweats.

“You should change,” he said, motioning to your suit. You turned away from him.

“Can you?” You asked about the long zipper that went from the top of your neck to right above your ass.

“Oh, sure,” Tim said walking close. There had always been some kind of sexual tension between you both but neither had ever acted on it. He looked at your black leather suit lit up in the firelight. It clung perfectly to every curve.

He delicately pushed your hair from the back of your neck over your shoulder and grasped the zipper. Tim pulled it down almost painfully slowly. You felt your skin prickle as he slowly touched down your back. His fingers hesitated to move away from your back. Tim pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat.

“Done,” he said in a lower tone. You turned back to see him standing so close. He watched you. Tim wasn’t particularly tall, only a little more than you, or bulky, with lean muscles. But he was so pretty with thick dark eye lashes and silky hair.

“You should probably get dressed. You’re cold,” he said noting the way your forearms shivered as they held the front of your suit up. You nodded and grabbed your clothing before heading to the bathroom. It was even colder in there. Frost covered the window and you could see your breath. You quickly dressed into pajamas.

In the main room, Tim was sweeping the floor. “Not that it doesn’t need it or anything, but why are you sweeping?” You asked.

“One bed. The couch is shit. I’m sleeping on the floor,” Tim said. There was no way you’d let him. He’d freeze with the draft and limited blankets.

“No way. Just sleep in the bed,” you said. He gave you a look you couldn’t comprehend before shaking his head. “Tim, you could freeze to death down there. I won’t let you,” you said trying to sound authoritative.

“I’ll be fine,” he shrugged.

“I won’t bite. Get up here,” you said sitting on the bed.

“Sure about that?” He said with a sly smile.

“Only on Tuesdays,” you said with a little smirk. He chuckled. “I’m not letting you sleep down there. My house, my rules.”

“Ouch. I guess I can’t argue with that, hu?” Tim said putting the broom down. He carefully climbed in the other side of the bed without touching you despite being a small bed. Tim laid flat on his back with his arms tight to his body.

You slid under the covers shivering. “Okay, I hope you’re okay with me stealing body heat from you because I’m fucking freezing,” you said sliding your back against him. Tim shifted to his side and you pressed against his warm chest. “I don’t know how you aren’t cold.”

“I’m from Gotham. The weather is terrible year round,” he reminded you. Tim didn’t lay his arms across you or anything but let you spoon against him. He was carefully passive like a gentleman. After a few minutes, you shivering stopped and you finally warmed. The pull of sleep dragged you under and you slept for a few hours.

The crackle of fire and gentle rapping sound of snow falling was the only sounds you heard in the early morning. Tim’s breath on your neck and arms wrapped around you tightly were very distracting. You resisted the urge to shiver at the sensation. How many times had you wanted this?

You shifted a little to go back to sleep and Tim’s hands wrapped tighter. One hand snakes down to cup your breast in sleep, pulling you flush to his body. You inhaled quickly and was wide awake. How could you sleep when the guy you liked was holding your actual tit? You tried to stay still but your body made small adjustments.

Tim made a soft “hmmm” sound and you froze. That’s when you felt it, he was hard. You felt like you were going to burst. He was holding your tit and rubbing his dick against you in his sleep. It’s just biology. It means nothing, you told yourself.

But you needed to get out of his grip because your body was definitely reacting to him. You tried to scoot your hips forward but this arms around you were clinging too tightly. Tim groaned and rubbed his cheek in your hair.

“Tim,” you whispered a little too breathless. He hummed again. “Tim,” you said a little louder.

“Is too early. Go to sleep,” Tim mumbled. He didn’t moved. You thought about trying to sleep but Tim was very distracting.

“Tim,” you said in a regular voice. He huffed.

“What?”

“You... you’re, uh,” you said unsure how to tell him. Your penis is rubbing up against my ass? You’re feeling me up in your sleep? “Let me go, please.”

“I don’t have you,” he protested before waking up more. Tim moved his head and opened his eyes. You could feel him freeze as he took in the situation. Tim quickly let you go and pulled back to one side of the bed. His face was brick red and his hips were almost falling off the bed trying to make as much space as possible between you both.

“Sorry! Fuck, sorry! I didn’t mean- how long was I-“ he said halfway freaking out. You turned to face him.

“It’s okay. Relax,” you said calmly.

“I don’t control when it happens when I’m asleep, you know?” Tim said sitting up and clutching the sheets hiding his crotch. You sat up and grasped the sides of his face.

“It’s fine. I know how biology works,” you reassured him.

“And I didn’t mean to grab you. I was asleep,” he added. “I swear I didn’t-“

“Tim!” You said finally shutting him up. He stared at you and gulped. Your hands on his face didn’t exactly help his uhh... problem he was desperately trying to make go away.

“What?”

“You. Are. Fine. I cuddled with you, right? Not super surprising. It happens,” you said and he relaxed a little. “It was kinda nice laying with you,” you murmured. Tim glanced down at your lips before snapping back up to your eyes like he broke a rule. “You smell nice. And you’re warm,” you added. You stared at his lips obviously.

“I got to ask, are you hitting on me?” Tim asked warily.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, detective. I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

Tim smiled and grasped your face for a kiss. You pulled him down on top of you as you kissed. He inhaled quickly before adjusting to the change. His knees gently pushed between yours and you pressed your hips up against his and was rewarded with a groan.

You reached down to cup him in his pjs. Tim kissed down your neck and his hips pushed his cock in your hand with more pressure. His hand cupped your breast and squeezed.

“Do you want to?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Condoms are in the top zipper of my suitcase,” you said breathlessly. You’d be a fucking idiot to say no to the one chance to sleep with the guy you like.

“You came prepared?” He asked.

“They just stay in there,” you answered and he nodded before getting up to grab one. Tim turned around to blink a little as you were completely nude and staring up at him predatorily. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t hot.

“Eager,” he breathed climbing back over you, pulling off clothing. You shrugged. You took the condom from him to put it on.

“Do we need to-“

“Penis in vagina. I don’t need a ton of prep. I super appreciate the offer. Seriously, next time go nuts. But it’s like 5 degrees in here and I’m ready as hell,” you said and he almost laughed.

“Can do,” he said pulling the blankets over you both. He sunk in and you breathed out quickly. Tim wrapped his arms around you behind your back to kiss your chest and neck as he moved. It has you breathless. It was so intimate. He was completely pressed against you.

His lips found yours and he kissed you in pace with his hips rocking against yours. You bent your knees and you gasped as he was now rocking against a spot that had you seeing stars.

“There,” you breathed and Tim simply nodded. Fuck, it wasn’t going to take long at this pace. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you whimpered before clenching around him with his name on your tongue. Tim groaned and thrust through your high before finishing himself. He kissed up your collarbone and neck to your lips before pulling out to throw away the condom and pull on his pjs. You did the same in the chill.

He climbed back in bed and snuggled close. “Okay, yeah. It’s cold as hell,” Tim said with a little laugh. You laid your head on his chest and entwined your legs together with the blanket pulled tight and the cold was more bearable.

[harveywritings92]

BNHA SOULMATE AU: Hawks X Reader

Your Quirk is the same as Ruby Rose's semblance from RWBY but it's called Petal Storm here.

Soulmate: First words your Soulmate says is written on your body, yours was written on your inner left thigh, Hawks is on his chest over his heart. 

Your mark: [You're okay kid, I got'cha!]

Keigo's: [No! I got you!]

----------------------------

["You're okay kid, I got'cha!"] You cock a brow at the gold and black letters resting on you inner thigh as you pulled your pants up that morning, When you were younger, you were mortified when the words first showed up mainly because if your soulmate asks to see it, well... it would look very lewd and creepy of them as they were pretty much sticking their face between your legs.

it was awkward as hell growing up, because of your reluctance of telling people where you mark was you were often accused of and or shunned by your peers for not having a soulmate! of course that all ended in middle school when you were in the changing rooms and swim practice where other's could see your thighs, needless to say those rumors died out pretty quickly.

And now here you are taking a elevator to a job interview with a very high-end gym, they were looking for swim coaches and lifeguards... anyways the gym was located on the roof, and there you were playing elder scroll's blades as you waited for your floor to come up when you felt a tremor shake the whole building, followed by the lights flickering and the elevator stopping... that definitely didn't sound good! 

The building's alarm started going off followed by the announcements warning the building's patrons that a villain was attacking and to please follow the evacuation procedures and not to panic! "Okay, that's nice... Now how the fuck do I get out the elevator?!" you snapped up at the ceiling, when you felt the building begin to shake again, and realized you heard the elevator begin to creak and jolt you knew that the car wouldn't hold for long!

You looked around and saw the tiny fire extinguisher on the wall, you took it and began slamming it against the glass wall it took a few good swings, but you managed to break open a decently sized hole to escape out of, you looked outside and took a deep breath letting out a nervous whistle when you saw how high you were. "Okay...Y/n if ya do this right, you can probably make it to that building across the road no problem." you assured before taking a deep breath and jumped! just as the elevator gave way and fell!

Meanwhile on the ground.

Hawks and few other heroes were huddled with fire department and the buildings owner who whining up a storm about law suites and other threat empty threats if the heroes don't save his business! when Hawks felt his mark begin to itch... his brow furrowed and he absentmindedly rubbed the spot, when he heard the sound of glass hitting the ground. 

He looked behind him just in time see a fire extinguisher hit the ground which went off causing everyone to freak out, while Hawks looked up to see where it came from just in time to see a lady jump out of one of the elevators shafts! the winged hero gasped to off to the skies like a rocket!

*back to you*

You were plummeting to ground just waiting for the vantage point to to use you quirk! a little too high you might overshoot the landing, too low and you might faceplant into a light post! However before you could reach that point you felt a pair of arms snatch you by the waist, your stomach lurched from the sudden loss of momentum and you squeaked closing your eyes before a man's voice spoke to you. "You're okay kid, I got'cha!" you gasped feeling your mark begin to itch and looked up to see a blond man with gold eyes and red wings giving you a reassuring smile it took your brain a second to reboot.

*Holy crap! my soulmate is Hawks?* at least you think he is, but before you could ask him to repeat that, you saw some of the building began to break apart! some of it coming right towards you! "No! I got you!" He looked at you stunned, "What did you jus-" you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and activated your quirk, in seconds you and your soulmate bodies transmuted and scattered into a flurry of gold and red rose petals dodged the falling building zoomed across the sky and landing on one of the roofs across the road.

Hawks let go of you the second you were back to normal...He slapped a hand of his mouth and started dry heaving obviously feeling nauseous, Yeah... that happens to first timers who've had their molecules reshaped and scattered, before you could reach out to ask if he was okay, you were suddenly pulled into tight hug. "Holy crap...Holy crap!" he kept repeating this before his brain jump started. "I thought I'd never get to meet you!" his wings had wrapped around you as he held on to you tightly squeezing the wind out of you.

"Yeah... ditto! Can I breathe now?" you wheezed Hawks immediately apologized and set you down while smiling sheepishly, then you noticed he seemed to looking for something as he was pulling you sleeves up looking for something. "What are doing?" you asked as he (if you have long hair) lifted your hair up to check you neck. "Looking for your mark, Mine's on my chest." He said putting you hand over his heart causing your cheeks to heat up feeling how fast it was beating.

*Lucky bird...* you mentally hummed. "Urm... I can't exactly show you my mark, uh...it's in a very awkward place." you said avoiding his eyes, while Hawks stared at you blankly for moment before his cheeks went pink. "oh...uh" he looked around to make sure it was just the two of you up here, as he leans in close to you and whispers. "Right or left cheek?" your eyes widened as you jerk back. "IT'S NOT ON MY BUTT!" You shrieked mortified face aflame before stammering out. "S'on my left thigh...bikini zone." you played with helm of your shirt.

Hawk awkwardly chuckled before remembering he was in the middle of a villain fight, it was gonna take a while to clean up he gave you his address a basically told you meet him at his penthouse; just before he was about to take off he turned you and shouted "By the way my names Keigo, Takami  Keigo!" he was gone before you could tell him yours but didn't worry you'll have the time in the world to get to know Keigo, as you hopped of the roof using your quirk to glide down to street, a little excited and embarrassed of what was to come. 

The next couple days the tabloids and media were going nuts over Hawks finally finding his soulmate! there was photo of the two of you at the beach soulmarks visible, everyone seemed happy for the #2 hero, with the exception of a few fan-girls; who sent you death threats, deep fakes and badly photoshopped pictures of them and Keigo together, they even tried to slam you on social media; only to make themselves look like idiots!

Meanwhile Hawks got to enjoy the one of the few things the commission let him keep! he still had that old Endeavor plushy sitting on his desk in his office and now he had a whole lifetime to spend with you... and you bet your ass he wasn't ever gonna take that for granted.

[new-sandrafilter]

How Timothée Chalamet Channeled The Blockbuster Pressure of Leading Denis Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ Back Into His Role – Venice Q&A

DEADLINE: In a few days Dune will premiere at the Venice Film Festival. You first met Denis Villeneuve about the role in May 2018 and started shooting in the early half of 2019. It was always going to be a long journey, but the pandemic stretched it even further. How does it feel to have finally arrived at this moment?

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET: You know, I like to think that with every film I’ve done, whether it’s Call Me by Your Name or Beautiful Boy, The King, or Little Women, the character you play is almost a piece of your flesh. And that’s always true, but simply from the perspective of how long the shoot for Dune was, and also the arc that Paul Atreides is on, as well as the huge love and almost biblical connection that so many people have for the book and the original film, it really felt… tectonic, if that’s the right word for it. Just getting to this finish line feels like: phew.

And independent of what the film is now, and what it has become, the experience of making it was I was put in such a safe environment, which you can never take for granted as a human, as an actor, but especially when you’re just starting your career, and when this is the first film of this size you’ve ever done.

To get to work with Denis on it, to get to work with someone of his caliber, let alone on a book that he considers the book of his youth and one of the things he has connected to the most… When he would have it in his hands on set, his body language would become that of a fan; of a kid who had fallen in love with the book at home in Montreal. And when all the kids around him were wearing hockey jerseys with their favorite players’ names on the back, this was a kid wearing a jersey that said ‘Spielberg’ on the back.

For it all to come together, especially with the added challenge of the pandemic, it has all combined to make this moment feel especially spicy [laughs].

DEADLINE: The entire ensemble will show up in Venice.

CHALAMET: Right. And I just can’t believe it; Jason Momoa has the number one film on Netflix right now with Sweet Girl, which I just watched. And since we shot, Zendaya has had all this success with Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. Just to be part of this cast, period, let alone as one of the title characters, it’s really the shit you dream of.

And let me not forget, too—and I know I’ve told you this before—that The Dark Knight was the movie that made me want to act. That movie had a score by Hans Zimmer, and he has done the score for Dune. And it’s almost not what you’d think. It’s totally appropriate and excellent for the movie, but he has somehow managed to do something subversive, in my opinion. It’s a pinch-me moment all over.

DEADLINE: So, take me back to the start. Is it true you had a Google alert set up to track the latest news on this project before you were ever cast?

CHALAMET: Yeah, it’s true [laughs]. Not right away—Legendary had the rights and was developing it—but as soon as Denis got involved, I set up a Google alert and that’s when I got the book.

In total honesty, I think my understanding of Dune at that point was from a graphic novel I’d seen at Midtown Comics when I was shopping for Yu-Gi-Oh! cards when I was about 10. The year you and I first met, when I was there at Deadline Contenders with Call Me by Your Name, that would have been 2017 or early 2018, and Denis was there with Blade Runner. I remember I was trying to put myself in front of him as much as possible and set up a meeting with him. We had a night at the BAFTA where one of my good friends, Stéphane Bak—who’s also an actor—saw Denis across the room and was like, “Hey buddy, he’s right over there.” So, we went over to talk to him. I kept trying to put myself in front of him, but I didn’t really get a sense of the possibility [of working with him].

I was about halfway through the book when I got the call that he was going to be the president of the jury at the Cannes Film Festival, and I was in London prepping The King. He asked me if I could come out there, so I quickly busted through the second half of the book as best I could. So, like, the first half of my copy is properly annotated and full of my thoughts, and then the second half I just raced through. And then I had that meeting with him, and it was such a joy.

I’m struggling with this even now, as I’m working with Paul King [on Wonka], because he’s another guy I have huge respect and admiration for, and it’s hard to feel on a level. Not that you ever are, because as an actor you’re a cog in the machine, and you’ve got to be humble to the vision of the director. But with Denis, he was pacing around the room, throwing ideas around, in some fancy suite in Cannes, and all I could think was that a year before I was just sat on a stoop on 9th Street in the East Village or something.

DEADLINE: Was that your first time in Cannes?

CHALAMET: Yeah. Well, bizarrely, my sister would do dance camps growing up. Ballet intensive programs in a town called Mougins, which is nearby Cannes, so I spent a lot of time there growing up, but never during the festival, and not on the Riviera. To get to be there for the festival was just nuts. I went to see the Romain Gavras movie, I think, and it was just a huge joy.

I got attached [to the role in Dune] a couple of months after that, and it was nerve-wracking from the announcement, because like I said before, the fans of the book, and the fans of David Lynch version, the computer game, and everything, there’s so much love and strength of feeling. And so much of our pop culture and films and books have been derived from Dune, and all the philosophy the book. I’ve been shocked to learn how many people have a next-level connection to the book. I compare it to how our generation grew up with Harry Potter, and that one makes sense to me. But it’s cool to see with Dune also, when you actually sit down and read it… It’s not that it’s a quote-unquote “hard read” or anything, but it’s not made to be consumed easily, I think that’s fair to say.

So, I was grateful to be working on something of this size not only with Denis Villeneuve leading it, who between Polytechnique, Incendies and Prisoners had nailed the smaller indie film across languages, and then had nailed Arrival and Blade Runner, but who, in his own words, he didn’t feel he’d made his greatest film yet. But also, to be working with this cast. I don’t know if there’s some nightmare version of a film where a young lead is not supported by the rest of his cast, where every one of them had been the leads in their own huge projects. But on this, everyone was there to support, and I think it’s because we all wanted to be foot soldiers for Denis, and I think we understood the potential, based on the script by Eric Roth, Jon Spaihts and Denis, that this could be something really special.

DEADLINE: I don’t have a connection to Dune; this movie is really my first experience of the story. What strikes me is this is clearly an enormous universe—a broad canvas being painted with various families and factions and politics and mythos—but that ultimately it comes down to very elemental, human themes, and we feel them through this character you play, Paul Atreides. Did those themes help ground the experience for you?

CHALAMET: Yes, and I would give the credit entirely to Denis. He would constantly say on set that he had some opposing drumbeat or something. In my diminished intellectual standing, I didn’t understand it, but it was like some vision for the movie based on how biblical the book is that tries to tackle so much that it doesn’t tackle anything. I think he felt the need to be close to a character in it, and Paul is that guy in the book. He’s a character that is still in formation, like a lump of clay, which makes him a great figure for the audience to mirror off.

It speaks, I think, to Denis’ premonition and his directing ability that there were times when we’d move on from a shot or move on from a scene, and I swear, literally, we’d go back because Denis wanted to get something over my shoulder, or push in on my reaction, just to make sure [it stayed on Paul].

And again, it’s something where I’m pinching myself. I had the best time on Interstellar, and that was one of my favorite films I’ve ever worked on, but it was very much something where I was aware of when I had the opportunity to do real acting. And on a movie like Dune, again, one could think it would get lost in the scale and scope. But I felt every day like my plate was full.

DEADLINE: One of those themes is fear, and Paul must overcome his to become the person he needs to be. When you are number one on the call sheet on a project of this scale, and the cast list reads like an address book of Hollywood in the 21st century, and Legendary has injected hundreds of millions of dollars into this production, and it’s all falling on your shoulders, I have to imagine fear is a theme you can readily relate to.

CHALAMET: Oh yeah, and they can bleed into each other for sure—not to diminish the other work that goes in. It’s great when your life experience can inform the role. That’s not at all to say I’m on some crusade in the universe or anything, but definitely… And I had that same good fortune with The King I think. My life is not nearly as significant or as exciting as Paul or Prince Hal, but we all share an unwitting needle in the haystack feeling. On The King that feeling was because I was so new to having a career. On Dune it’s because of, as you say, just feeling the pressure of the hugeness of the project in all those different ways. Those things can absolutely inform each other.

And then there are the moments of glee that come, too, like seeing Jason Momoa running at you at a hundred miles an hour, or just getting to shoot the shit with Josh Brolin, or getting to do a scene with Oscar Isaac. I felt so supported, whether it was Rebecca Fergusson or Charlotte Rampling. When Zendaya came, it was a total breath of fresh air, and she’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. I just got really lucky, and I can’t wait to see them all in Venice.

Denis split the book in half, and the hope is a second movie will get a greenlight. That’d expand Zendaya’s role in the story.

CHALAMET: Definitely, Chani will play a huge role in the next film. I don’t know if there’s a script yet, but just based on the book, along with Lady Jessica [Rebecca Fergusson], they have a lot to do together, let’s put it like that. And Zendaya was incredible in this movie; the moment she pulls the mask down, it felt properly showstopping and powerful. I was hiding behind the camera, counting my lucky starts, because I was there in month two of the shoot and here was a total powerhouse just coming in for the first time.

And as I said before, this was before I’d seen Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. She’s doing such incredible work and is just trailblazing her own path, and she’s so, so cool. She also happens to be in the most-watched trailer of the moment, too, for Spider-Man: No Way Home. I cannot wait for that movie, and I was there, by the way, with everybody else, clicking through the trailer frame by frame looking for clues [laughs].

[iamanartichoke]

Fic prompt: If you feel like doing another hurt/comfort with Mobius, I would love a version of that end scene where Loki's freaking out but it actually is our Mobius. So Mobius listens to everything Loki has to say, and then they just kind of...take a breath, I suppose, before whatever they're going to do to fight Kang - perhaps Loki gets some tea, and/or an actual meal, a little sleep maybe (has he eaten since that cake on the train or slept since that brief nap in ep 2??), or whatever comfort-y stuff you want - I just need that sweet fic healing lmao.

@scintillatingshortgirl19 Thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it! <3

Summary: Takes place at the end of episode 6, where instead of saying "Who are you?" Mobius knows Loki and they pick up from where they left off in the void. Word Count: 1956 Author’s notes: I'm not feeling super confident with these prompts, so please don't judge me bear with me as I dust off my little writer-brain gears and try to find my footing with these new characters and characterizations.

Completed prompts.

*

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mobius is saying, holding his hands up, but Loki can’t stop talking. The words are spilling from him; he’s tripping over them, and from the look on Mobius’s face Loki knows he’s not making sense, but still, he can’t stop.

“He’s set on war,” Loki babbles. “We need to prepare, Mobius.”

“Hang on.” When Loki pauses to take a breath, Mobius reaches out and places his hands on Loki’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, the way he needs to reach, as Loki towers over him. Yet Loki feels very small, too, and doesn’t protest the contact. “You’re speaking faster than my brain can process words. Breathe, okay? Start at the beginning.”

Loki doesn’t know when the beginning was. It could have been the moment he’d leapt up and grabbed Sylvie’s arm before she could land a fatal blow to their enemy; it could have been all those days (or months, or hours, Loki has no idea; time, for him, has completely ceased to exist) ago that he’d landed in a Midgardian desert and the TVA immediately swarmed upon him.

“You’re not understanding me.” Frustration colors Loki’s tone. “There’s no time to stop; he’s - they’re - coming.”

“You’re right, I’m not understanding you.” Mobius lets go of Loki’s shoulders and rubs the back of his neck. “I want to, but you gotta slow down and fill me in, okay?”

“Maybe we should take him somewhere,” says B-15. Loki had barely noticed her but now he steps back, his gaze flicking from her to Mobius, taking in the confusion on both of their faces.

“You don’t look so good,” B-15 adds, taking in Loki’s appearance. He must be a sight, he realizes; his hair is matted and tangled and he feels grimy, his skin caked with so much dirt and blood from injuries he doesn’t remember getting.

But, what difference does it make? Loki turns back to Mobius, desperate. “Mobius, listen to me. Sylvie and I -”

“Come on.” Mobius cuts him off. He moves in, taking one of Loki’s arms. “You can tell me everything, okay, Loki? I just need you to calm down and to come with me, preferably before you pass out. Hauling around a five hundred pound demigod wasn’t on my to-do list today.”

Loki bites back a sharp retort. He’s vaguely aware of B-15 taking his other arm, and it’s only once Loki’s shoulders slump and he allows himself to be led away from the shelves that the exhaustion hits him. He’s been running high on adrenaline for hours, and now that he’s moving slowly, supported on either side, all of that energy seems to drain from him at once. His knees buckle.

“Careful,” Mobius says. Were it not for him and B-15 holding him up, Loki is certain he would have collapsed. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on placing one foot in front of the other, not caring where they’re going. The archives, the time theater, one place is the same as another.

They move through halls that are bustling with activity, minutemen running and disembodied voices crackling over speakers. They don’t know it’s pointless, no amount of hunters in the field will matter or make a difference.

He thinks he says so, or perhaps he just imagines he does. Neither Mobius nor B-15 acknowledge him, at any rate; they only keep moving and after awhile, they arrive at the dormitories, where Loki has not been since the first day Mobius brought him here as an official TVA employee.

“Why are we here?” Loki asks, confused.

“So you can get a shower and a change of clothes,” Mobius says simply, “and then we can have some coffee and you can tell me what happened after the void.”

Loki sighs, and then nods, resisting the urge to insist that everything else could wait (until when?), because Mobius isn’t understanding the precariousness of the situation, but he knows it won’t do any good.

“Fine,” he says instead, giving up. The sooner he does what Mobius asks, the sooner Mobius will listen.

He’d not realized just how badly he needed that shower and change of clothes until he’s scrubbed the dirt and blood from his skin and allowed the hot water to beat over his sore muscles and rapidly-forming bruises. For lack of anything else to wear, he puts on a clean suit, fastening the cuffs firmly around his wrists and buttoning the collar up to his neck.

He’s sick of this outfit; he never wants to see it again but, without his magic, he has no other choice.

In the dormitory kitchen, Mobius is brewing a pot of coffee. He looks up when Loki walks in, and his mouth quirks in a half smile. “Better,” he says, “but you could still probably use some sleep and a meal.”

“Stop fussing,” Loki snaps, irritated with Mobius’s sudden desire to hover over him like a governess hovering over a petulant child who won’t eat his peas. “I hate coffee, by the way.”

“You’ve never had my coffee,” Mobius retorts, sounding unbothered. “Just sit down, okay? You still look like hell, is my point. When’s the last time anyone fussed over you, anyway?”

Loki makes a scoffing noise as he drops down into a chair at one of the small kitchen tables. “I’m sure my mother did at some point, I don’t remember.” Actually, he remembers very well that it was always his mother who looked after him when he was sick or tired or lonely, until he’d grown too old to allow himself to seek her out for comfort.

But he doesn’t want to think of his mother, who is lost to him and perhaps lost to the real Loki as well, the sacred timeline’s Loki, if enough time has progressed and Malekith has indeed run her through with a sword and left her bleeding out on the palace floor.

Loki shudders as he thinks of it, remembering the sight of his mother’s lifeless body projected onto a screen. He’d been helpless to stop it, utterly powerless, just as ultimately he’d been powerless to stop Sylvie.

His mother, dead. Sylvie, lost to him. The timeline destroyed - the end of everything. The weight of it all crashes over him; had he not already been sitting, the sheer despair of it would have brought him to his knees.

Loki drops his head into his hands instead, thinking back to Mobius’s words that first day: you were born to cause pain and suffering and death.

In retrospect, Loki knows that Mobius was merely fighting dirty, using whatever words necessary to break Loki down - the ends justify the means, and all that - but he wasn’t goddamn wrong.

How could Loki have ever believed, even for a second, that he could possibly change?

We write our own destinies now, he’d told that creepy little clock hologram, and she’d smirked, seen right through the words because they were rubbish and they both knew it.

Good luck with that.

Loki doesn’t realize he’s crying until Mobius sets down a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He lifts his head and rubs tiredly at his tear-stained cheeks, unable to meet Mobius’s gaze as Mobius sits down across from him with his own mug.

“Here,” Mobius adds, reaching into his inside blazer pocket. He pulls out a slim, red candy stick wrapped in plastic and hands that to Loki as well.

Loki stares at it. “What is this?”

“Something better than grapes or nuts,” Mobius says dryly. “It’s a Twizzler. Popular Earth candy. I’d say don’t tell anyone I’ve stashed a bunch, but …” He trails off and shrugs, glancing around at the kitchen with forced amusement. “Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

He pulls out a second Twizzler and unwraps the plastic, then bites into the candy. Loki watches him for a moment, and then imitates him. “Gross,” he says, after he’s taken a bite. It’s a very bland candy, with texture not unlike rubber. “Think I prefer grapes.”

“Well, maybe Twizzlers are an acquired taste,” says Mobius.

Loki finishes the Twizzler anyway, and then takes a sip of coffee. He does usually dislike coffee, but either he’s hungrier than he’d realized or Mobius has a gift, because this cup is actually quite good.

“Okay, now let’s go back to the beginning,” Mobius prompts, after a silence. He drums his fingertips against the table. “What happened? I’m assuming you were able to enchant the murder cloud?”

All of the words that had been spilling from Loki’s lips before, so desperate to be released, now get stuck somewhere in his throat. He wraps his hands around his mug and takes another sip of coffee, wondering idly how long it had been since he’d actually had something warm to drink. Or eat, for that matter. The train on Lamentis, perhaps. A moment ago, a lifetime ago.

“We did,” he finally says. Despite the coffee, a chill breaks out over his skin and he sets the mug down, choosing to fold his arms as if to fold into himself for warmth. “We made it past Alioth and found him - the one who’s responsible for all of this.”

Just like that, the words are no longer stuck. Loki pours out the entire story, starting from when he and Sylvie had crossed the threshold into the citadel and ending with his own tumble back through the tempad’s portal into the TVA.

But he omits the kiss, only mentioning that Sylvie had distracted him to get the upper hand. He’ll never speak of it - either that Sylvie had used his feelings for her in order to betray him, or that he’d fallen for it (of course he’d fallen for it; for a few seconds there, he’d let himself believe - but, it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t real, and there are bigger problems now).

“She closed the portal before I could get back through it,” Loki says. He notices that he’s twisting his fingers together so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. He forces himself to stop. “I can only imagine she finished the job after that because, well.” He barks a laugh that sounds, even to his own ears, broken and pathetic. He used to be so good at maintaining a cool, calm facade but it, like so many other things, had been steadily breaking apart, piece by piece. There is very little left to guard the scared little ice runt who trembles at the core.

“Look at the timeline,” he adds; he laughs again and rubs his eyes against a fresh wave of tears.

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Loki finishes his coffee and Mobius eats two more Twizzlers before another word is spoken.

“So we lost.” Mobius’s voice is hollow. “We lost before we could begin to fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mobius shrugs. He runs a hand over his short, gray hair before letting out a laugh of his own. “He Who Remains,” he repeats, more to himself than to Loki.

Loki allows a beat to pass. “We have to try to fix it, Mobius.” The only way to ease the weight of his guilt, Loki knows, is if he goes back and tries to make it right - or to die trying.

“How are we supposed to do that?” It’s Mobius’s turn to rub his eyes. His shoulders slump and for a moment, he looks very tired. Older. Loki studies him and wonders, fleetingly, if the real Mobius is someone’s father. “I don’t even know where to begin, Loki.”

“I might.” Loki straightens. Deep down, beneath the anguish, a seed of determination has taken hold and he focuses on that; a lifeline. “But you’ll need to trust me.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Thor’s twin

Thor Odinson x twin!reader

warnings:

a/n: HSHSHHSHSHHSHSGS

prompt: @locke-writes: “Wait Lacey I have a headcanon idea if you’re willing to write it. Headcanons for being Thor’s twin??? Idk man I feel like that could be unbridled chaos”

okay, i believe that odin and frigga refused to tell the two of you who was born first

“either one of you could earn the throne, but you need to prove that you can handle the responsibility” -odin

jokes on him, neither of you cared for the opportunity to rule

you two were much better suited as warriors

you were both able to weild mjölnir, which created...disagreements

“i should have mjölnir! i lifted it first!” -you

“only because you pushed me out of the way!” -thor

“will you two just rip each other apart already?” -loki

speaking of loki, his pranks always exhausted you

especially when you appeared to have woken up in your twin brother’s body

“wh-what is this? LOKI!!!”

he always got a kick out of it

and the celebrations of victory? they never disappointed

“brother! another victory on the battlefield, but was there any other doubt?” -you

“of course not, y/n! at this rate, i don’t think we’ll ever fall!” -thor

“don’t put your hammer where your mouth is” -you

you and thor were definitely unstoppable fighting together, both blessed to be literal gods

“eyes front, thor! the fight’s not over yet!”

when you walked beside each other, sometimes you’d summon mjölnir to your hand

it always annoyed the hell out of him

“give that back”

“i don’t think i will”

“y/n, i’m serious”

“come and get it”

“that’s it!”

*swatting and wrestling in the middle of the hallway*

sometimes frigga would even catch the two of you arguing

“oh, my children. would you quit your bickering for just one moment?” -frigga

“but mother, y/n took my hammer!” -thor

“you’ll just have to learn how to share” -frigga

as the years flew by, there was always something crazy to occupy you

especially the day that thor had been banished, which hadn’t exactly gone as planned for loki

you were supposed to be banished, as well

“i suppose the future of the throne is your responsibility now, my child” -odin

“i...i don’t know what to say” -you

“but y/n doesn’t desire the throne one bit, i would have no problem stepping up, father” -loki

“we’ll deal with this later, brother” -you

you had to plan something with sif and the warrior’s three

yes, it was treason, but your brother would always be worth it. no matter how much you two argued, he was your other half

now you found yourself on earth, it was such an odd-looking place

and then you were chased by a destroyer

“thor, you must get to safety! i will not lose you again!” -you

“hi there, i’m jane...” -jane, obviously

“hello, lady jane! i’m y/n, thor’s twin!” *blocks debris* “i must go now!”

life didnt get much more simple after that, especially since loki had died (or so you thought) and the bifrost was completely destroyed, it would take a long time to fix any of the damages that asgard suffered

mourning over loki felt right and wrong at the same time, he betrayed you and your family, but you’d never stop loving him

he would always be your brother

as time went on, you had to visit earth once again because of...loki

“i should have known” -you

“yes, you should have” -thor

“you didn’t know, either!” -you

“and they call us petty?” -any SHIELD agent or avenger

loki mocked you when he was captured

“you were nothing but loved growing up, brother. what happened?” -you

“there was a shadow cast over me, thor’s shadow. don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it, either. odin only ever truly notices him and all of his feats” -loki

“you tell nothing but lies, loki. i won’t fall for them and i will not help you. you should stop while you’re ahead”

“so you agree that i’m ahead?”

threatening loki with mjölnir

ppl actually called mjölnir “thor’s hammer”

“i think you mean our hammer” -you

the battle of new york was admittedly terrifying, you knew loki had it in him, but seeing it in the moment just hurt you

it was possible you had a guilty conscience

but the avengers saved the day (mostly) and you brought loki and the tesseract home

and loki was sentenced to an eternity in prison

“hey, thor, think i’d have a shot at lady sif?” -you teasing the hell out of him

“shut up. you won’t make me jealous no matter what you say. my heart belongs to—” -thor

“the midgardian, i know”

you did sort of make him jealous tho ngl

aaanyways you pushed him to go see jane again, it had been too long to leave a midgardian waiting. their lives were short.

and you got to see her again! unfortunately you lost your mother that same day

and you were p i s s e d

murder? murder. (murder)

you may or may not have broke into the vault to get a weapon you could truly call your own

and then went against your better judgement and took loki to off-world with you

“y/n—” -loki

“shut up” -you

but you wish you had listened to what he had to say since you had the bear the loss of loki once again

now you had two family members to avenge

speaking of avenging, you steered clear of the avengers because......they were nuts

“y/n! you know, we could use another god like yourself on our team” -tony

“thor won’t help power your building, will he?” -you

“you got me” -tony

“so, you and thor are twins? who’s older?” -steve

“we actually don’t know!” -you

“oh...neat” -steve

“you know, thor was crying the first time he tried to lift that hammer of his” -clint

“i have no doubt about that” -you

“thor always talks about fighting in wars, but he never gives us any details. has he really fought wars?” -natasha

“oh, plenty of them! my brother and i have fought side by side in countless battles, you’ve even witnessed one! in new york!” -you

“how could i forget?” -nat

okay getting past all that, you focused on getting a headstart on some more *prophetic* instances that thor caught up to you on

and once you got back to asgard, you knew there was something wrong

“are you kidding me? loki? again?” -you

“hello, sibling. it’s nice to see you again” -loki

“why are you the way that you are?” -you

“that’s enough, y/n” -thor

✨going to midgard for odin who instead gave you a homicidal sister✨

hela was not nice at all. at ALL.

your heart broke when she shattered mjölnir

and loki made a bad call to open the bifrost for the whole odinspawn family

and next thing you knew, you were on sakaar

“thor? what the hell?” -you

“y/n! oh, it’s so good to see you! help me out here, please!” -thor

“i’m sorry, brother, but me and loki have been playing the loving brother/sibling act to keep it civil. this place...it’s unlike any place we’ve ever seen. we need to be smart. and we need to get back to asgard.” -you

“yes, we do. there is no doubt in my mind that hela is destroying asgard as we speak” -thor

“right, well...i don’t think loki will be joining us because, he and, uh, the grandmaster as they call him...they sort of formed a relationship” -you

trying to break thor out of prison and oh....hulk is here? that was unexpected

“y/n! y/n, that mean girl who kidnapped me? a valkyrie. a real life valkyrie!” -thor

“what?! father told us they had all died!” -you

“i think it would be safest to disregard everything father has ever told us” -thor

“i very much like that idea” -you

kicking absolute ass on your way out

you and valkyrie teamed up, so you had to say your goodbyes to loki early on, he made it clear he wanted to stay

“you will always be my brother, loki. i wish you well on your journey to find your place in this life. and i do love you, remember that” -you, giving him a hug

“...thank you, y/n. i...me, too” -loki

yet he came back for you in the end

after thor had lost his eye, he’d unlocked his true power........not to be a sore winner, but you’d unlocked yours first while he was on earth

but you two together? that should have been unstoppable

yet you weren’t

“what the hel? she should be dead!” -you

“we need to go” -valkyrie

“wait, i have one more idea” -thor

and that idea was the idea that ended asgard

but you’d create a new asgard

but then half of asgard was murdered by thanos! and you and thor were stranded in space! and loki actually died! and you were saved by space pirates! and were flirted with by half of their crew!

“thor, you need to see dmitri, you need a new weapon if we’re going to finish off thanos” -you

okay, well you and the “guardians of the galaxy” went after infinity stones instead, you knew that one day you’d have to

running into tony stark in space?????

“y/n? what are you doing here?” -tony

“i’m here to kill thanos, what are you doing here, stark? who are these two?” -you

“hi, i’m peter! that’s mister—doctor strange” -peter

everyone turned to dust after thanos escaped and you, tony, and nebula went to star-lord’s ship

and were saved by captain marvel

and reunited with thor

“y/n, by odin’s beard, i thought i had lost you” -thor

“it’s alright, i’m here now” -you

starting up new asgard and watching your brother fall into a depression that caused you to do most of the heavy lifting in this new kingdom

“are you still playing fortnite, brother? it’s five in the morning” -you

“can you pass...” *belch* “just pass me another beer” -thor

and after 5 years, you got to go back to asgard? but asgard from 10 years prior

“mother...” -you

“y/n, we have a mission” -rocket

“i know, i know...where’s thor?” -you

running into your mother while getting thor

“hello, mother. i...yes, hello” -you

“hello, my child. i hope that the future is treating you well” -frigga

“it isn’t, but thank you, mother. i love you” -you

and then you were back on earth and had to comfort thor, who was self-loathing again

but the work had been restored by a simple snap!

and you and thor were able to fight a real fight once more, summoning mjölnir again was invigorating

and there was some kind of bittersweet win here, one i’ve covered plenty of times

“it was fitting for such a great battle to be our final one for now” -thor

“you’re leaving?” -you

“i am, but i trust you’ll take care of our people like you always do. i will see you again, dear sibling. one day” -thor

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck //

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 4)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>    Join the taglist in here

The cold chains immobilizing your whole body were the thing you first noticed once you woke up. When your eyes finally opened, you observed your surroundings carefully, silently. Barely opening your eyes, just in case. Your teammates were equally tied up by your sides, and Bucky was unconscious. Loki, on the other hand, was looking around less confused than he should have.

“Oh, you did this”, you spat suddenly, realizing what was going on. Of course he would betray the team; it was all you knew about him, and history did not disappoint.

“What?” he asked, now confused. “I certainly did not. I’m trying to figure out where we are”.

“Yeah, and you want me to blindly trust you on this one? What did you do to Tony? A dumb potion or…”.

“He doesn’t need me and my magic to act idiotic, he manages that himself”, he said. Once he actually got to talk, he wouldn't stop, would he? “But if you need me to, I can try to make him even dumber, then he would have some idea to form a Dark Team. Oh, wait”, said sarcastically.

“Be free to give us your input on the crew, come on, don’t be shy”.

While you two argued, Bucky was gaining consciousness again.

“Look who decided to get up from his nappy”.

“Shut up”, he managed to say, looking around. He quickly realized where you were. “Fuck. I know this place”.

“Do enlighten us”.

“Loki, I swear to God, shut up or I’m gonna shove my metal arm through your…”.

“Where are we, Buck?”, you interrupted impatiently.

“This is a Hydra base”.

“Oh fuck”.

“Great”.

You started making escape plans in your head in record time, but then you realized; maybe you shouldn’t escape. Maybe you should arrange some plan to make the mission done from the inside. The chances of the stick being there were bigger than somewhere else.

“That’s a better idea”, resonates Loki’s voice in your head. You screamed, not expecting his magic. So he has telepathy, you thought. You looked at him amazed, and he smiled smugly. You realized, if he can access your head, then he could’ve heard…

“Oh yes, I’ve heard it all, dear. But don’t worry, I’m used to it. Many people find me... how did you say? Extremely attractive?”.

You blushed and looked uncomfortably to the roof, trying to get the plan straight, ignoring his mockery. But he kept going.

“Comparing me to a british mortal man, though… I don’t appreciate it. A Nordic God is way better in every sense”.

Your blush turned to bright red paint all over your face, and he chuckled. Bucky was observing the interaction fascinated. For him, you were two idiots who looked at each other weirdly and reacted to that. But as much as you tried to avoid him, he kept talking in your head.

“It’s alright, darling. I like to be praised, even at the strangest moments. Can’t believe you went for a plain ‘hot’, though. I think I’d be worth at least a ‘so hot my brain is melting at his only sight…”.

“Oh my God, shut up!” you shouted, interrupting his egocentric rant.

“What the… he didn’t say anything” said Bucky, even more confused than before. You were quite a pair.

“Yes, y/n, I didn’t say anything. Are you hallucinating? Did they poison you?”.

“I’m gonna choke you with those chains as soon as I get my hands free”.

“I would love to see you trying”, he challenged.

“Guys, can you pleeeeaaassseee focus?”, said Bucky, losing his patience.

“I’m trying to focus on making a plan,” you whispered. “It would be much easier if you two shut up for the love of God”.

“How could you not predict our ship would get hijacked? Aren’t you the brainy of the team?”.

“James, don’t make me spit on your face”.

“I’d suggest whatever ‘plan’ you’re thinking that would get us out of here, do it faster, because I don’t think they’d leave us here alone much more time”, said Loki.

“What? You afraid of some little mortal kidnappers? I thought, for a God, it wouldn’t be so hard to take them down. Unless you’re full of crap. You know, once in my life I finally think I’d be alright being on charge of the mission, you two had to be here, ready to ruin...”.

“Are you still planning on choking me? Because that would do wonders to my ears, to finally stop listening to you”.

“Can you two stop flirting?”, interrupted Bucky. “I didn’t think the worst thing about getting kidnapped by Hydra would be not being alone".

"But here we are”.

Bucky ripped the chains off him and freed you too, leaving Loki tied. The God didn't complain, and instead made the chains dissolve with a spell. You looked around again. A plan started to form in your head and you followed your instinct through it, knowing it’d lead somewhere good at some point. After a few minutes of complete silence, you finally have it all figured out.

“Tiny genius has an idea”, announced Loki, who apparently was reading your mind the whole time. You looked at Bucky and he nodded, as he made his way through the room, destroying every camera and microphone he was able to find.

“We’re listening now”.

“Alright. Look”. You took out of your pocket a whiteboard marker and started scribbling nonsense on the tiles of the wall. Loki and Bucky shared a concerned look. You explained the whole plan, head to toes. It included explosions, illusions of dead bodies and infiltrations of high risk throughout the building. But they didn’t seem fazed at the difficulty of the idea. “Any questions?”.

“Yeah. Do you always carry a whiteboard marker or just on very dangerous missions?”, asked Bucky.

“Oh. No, always. Anyways, what do you think of the plan?”.

“I think you’re nuts”, said Bucky. Loki was paying very little attention and you doubted he even heard your plan. You sighed.

“Look, Barnes. My poor self preservation instincts are what got me in this Stark internship in the first place, so if you’re gonna insult my nuttery consider how far it got me”, you answered, pointing at him with the marker. “And you, did you even hear it? What do you think?”.

“Oh, yes. I think you’re out of your mind”.

“Are you kidding me, Loki? You did worse things”.

“But I support your idea. It 's madness. It’ll work”, he added, and you smirked.

“Well, it’s better than the alternative, at least”, accepted Bucky. “So, we have an escape plan, but we don’t have an actual plan to get the mission done, you realize that?”.

“We can figure it out once we’re out of sight from the Hydra toys”.

“You know, I don’t know what is it with you, Steve and Sam, but you guys never have plans, and it gets on my nerves”.

“I have a plan, I always have a plan, Buck. That’s my part of the job. Just… trust me, okay?”, you asked.

“You’re getting kinda hard to trust”, he said crossing his arms.

“I trust you”, added Loki after long seconds of painful silence. You felt the need to ask him why on Earth would he trust you, when not even your best friend trusted you on this one. But he looked at you with a glimmer of certainty in his eyes, and you didn’t want to push it, or make it vanish.

When everything was already set, Loki made the highly realistic illusions of your dead bodies (it even gave you chills, but you wouldn’t admit that, of course not). Bucky ran his hand through the pavement floor at the same time that you threw your watch against it, causing an explosion. You three flew away from the impact. You realized you haven’t thought this part very thoroughly, since they could obviously take the impact (a God and a supersoldier, why wouldn’t they?), but you were a mere human mortal with no superpowers or super suits.

You couldn’t look around as you fell from the building, since the remains of the room were falling apart, and the smoke and fire from the explosion were overwhelmingly close to your eyes, but you could sense you still had enough time to find the button on your suit to get the parachute on. You just had to find the damn button, that it was…

Loki grabbed you instantly, covering you with his whole body before the impact, making sure you didn’t even get a scratch. Then you realized you maybe didn’t have the parachute back-up plan under control, after all.

“Well, that was bigger than I had anticipated”, you said, getting up from Loki’s tired body and brushing off some ashes. He stayed there and sighed. “Now we know where we were. 5th floor, apparently”.

“And now we’re not even inside the building, as we needed. Great. Smart”.

“You know, I’d say this is a win. We’re not being held hostage now, and we have enough time to recalculate the plan from the outside. Less risk of getting…”. But you were interrupted by the cocking guns of the seven guards surrounding you.

“No, please, let them finish their sentence”, said Loki sarcastically, still laying on the smashed floor. “getting caught, were you gonna say?”.

“Well, yes. But I think, given the current circumstances, that you’d differ”.

“What could possibly make you think that?”.

“Not the time, guys”, cut Bucky, getting up and knocking down two guards. You fought with one of them. Loki didn’t even bother in body-to-body combat, and casted them away, fading their bodies into thin air.

“Where did you take them?”, asked Bucky.

“The explosion”.

“Are you stupid? They’ll notice the bodies are fake!”.

“No, not the past explosion. The current explosion”, he explained, and behind him you heard a building collapsing in the distance. You didn’t even ask. What for. Honestly.

After a while of walking around and not really getting anything from it, Bucky finally asked:

“So, the watch. Is it normal for you to keep explosive reactive components in there, or was that just part of a very premeditated plan we weren’t aware of?”.

“Oh, it was just a precaution I have. In case of emergencies”, you explained. They decided it would be better to not ask you why and how could you possibly keep pulling weirdly necessary things in the strangest moments. Why would they bother. Honestly.

You touched your earbud, trying to communicate with Stark. He was supposed to be in the line at some time around that, but, well, you didn’t have your watch with you anymore. Gladly, he answered. He said he was getting the coordinates to a hotel room, and he’d take you three to a different place than the anticipated, far away from that Hydra base. You needed time to establish, refill energy and make a better plan. Better than blowing things up. You had some time to spare now that you were temporarily presumed death.

[neonponders]

Oh lord, here we go. Don’t be surprised if my sugardaddy!Billy and couture Steve turns into five parts orz for now, here’s part 3!

This is originally a birthday gift for @lazybakerart 💋and @edith-moonshadow enabled me to keep going with this with their Harringrove for Palestine donation🙏🏻.

Part 1 here ~ Part 2 here ~ read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

A week passed.

Billy didn’t leave a number for Steve to call, and when he tried to phone Billy’s secretary, she gave him a bullshit lie about international calls needing to occur within a certain timeframe, etc. Steve understood he was butting into Billy’s goings-on, during an hour he couldn’t play civilian.

That was another aspect of their relationship they kept dodging.

Steve did not consider white-collar crime unfamiliar. In fact, it’s wildly rampant in society; it just takes the right lawyers and judges to keep things swept under the rug.

Maybe Billy didn’t talk about it for the same reason Steve didn’t open up about his fears of being disposable. When they managed a safe little time capsule where underlying circumstances didn’t exist, things went great. Splendid, even.

But time capsules have to open at some point.

Billy called Steve.

“Hello?” he said to the unfamiliar number. If he sounded a little miffed, it’s because he’d taken more spam calls than genuine correspondences this past week, having not known what Billy’s international number was—

“Steve.”

That sounded…wrong.

“Billy?”

He could hear the man’s breath on the receiver. Heavier than it should have been. “I know you don’t like this. But I need you to come here.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Stupid question. Billy sounded half the man he was. Steve wanted to know what happened to the other half.

“I’m injured. I’ll be fine—”

“Define ‘injured.’”

“Steve,” Billy huffed like a laugh, but Steve could hear it stick in his throat. He hovered in the middle of his apartment, helpless to do anything but hold the phone to his ear. “I’m not arguing right now. Could you just…get in the car that comes to pick you up?”

“A car? What kind of car?”

“The driver will use the buzzer of your building. They won’t come up. Just get in the car and then the plane—”

“Plane? Billy, where did you go?”

He laughed again, a little of his voice leaking into it. “Steve, please. Can I see you or not?”

Steve croaked into the receiver, revolving listlessly in his apartment while his brain failed to keep up. “I-I—wha—um.”

Except, despite everything, like how very likely he would come back to only one or no jobs, it really wasn’t a choice for Steve. His chest ached for Billy. He missed the bastard’s smug smiles and longed for the animation he let fill his face when he relaxed with Steve.

And he felt the itch of being wanted. His ingrained eagerness to be with the person who needed him.

All of it scrambled in his brain so Steve wound up raising his voice while fisting his hair, “A plane? I have to pack! What do I pack?”

Billy’s voice came out breathily on the phone, like he filled it with relief. “You don’t need to pack anything—”

“I NEED PANTS, BILLY!”

Steve got in the car.

Steve got on the plane.

The stupid private jet in which Steve could have his own disco if he wanted because it seemed like only he and the pilot were on the damn thing. He brought the book Billy had gifted him about The New Yorker for something to distract himself, even though he mostly stared blankly at the pages while he waited for the plane to land.

A part of him expected to arrive in the middle of nowhere. Which, to be fair, they had to land in a private hanger outside of the city. But then the next car took him amongst grand buildings and turned into a narrow side street only residents would use. Steve burst upon the sidewalk, only hindered briefly by the receiving of a hotel key and the remark, “Room 532.”

Steve skipped the elevator. He wore heels in his spare time; he would’ve beaten the lift anyway.

As with any hotel, the key took some figuring out, but when he managed, he stepped into the suite. “Billy?”

It smelled like any other nice hotel. Cream carpets and matching walls. A splash of color on the rumpled bedspread amongst Billy’s clutter. Steve followed the floor plan of the sitting room to the bedroom and then the bathroom, where he heard the shower running. He knocked on the door, “Billy?”

And then louder, “Billy?”

“Come in.”

Steve carefully pushed into the room, unsure what he’d find…

What looked like two open first aid kits sat on the counter. Steve couldn’t read anything from those alone, but he didn’t have to because the shower was a large, glass cubicle. It stood big enough for four people. Billy sat on the floor, his chest wrapped in sodden cotton and gauze; barefoot underneath his black slacks. Steve opened the glass door as Billy lifted his head—

He knelt on the hard tiles, putting his arms around Billy’s neck to greet him, to hold him. Cool tendrils seeped through Steve’s hair, soft claws over his scalp until the water properly soaked his strands.

“Steve, your clothes.”

Instead of answering, he looked at the shower knobs and turned the hot water up. As soon as heat seeped over them, Billy melted against him. His head fell easily where Steve pulled him into the bend of his neck. Billy’s hands fumbled a little to find him, but all he could do was grasp onto him to avoid bending or twisting his injured torso.

Steve remained kneeling over him long past being soaked through.

He did not cry until Steve undressed, leaving his sodden raiment on the shower floor to retrieve the scissors from the first aid kits. He carefully snipped through the ruined gauze and medical tape. Soon a pile of white, and diluted pinkish-orange blood also sat on the floor. Whoever had stitched up Billy’s sides had done a good job, but Steve had to dry him off and rebind him.

After the first wince, Billy came undone. Steve wished he could say something to make it easier, but all he had were small reassurances and quietly given orders.

“Can you hold this here?”

“Lift your arm up.”

“Hang on. Almost done.”

An odd talent of Steve’s: tolerating pain with silent grace. A skill which Billy ironically lacked. But where Steve withheld, Billy knew how to release. Perhaps here was one of their bridges.

“Put your arm around me. Lift with your legs.”

The towels Steve put over their shoulders helped them grip one another. Once standing, Billy halted, “Wait. Take these off.”

To each of their credit, neither made a joke as Billy’s trousers and underwear landed with a wet slosh next to Steve’s pile. Steve wrapped his towel around his waist once Billy sat on the bed. With his hands freed, he went about drying Billy’s hair with his towel and opening the bed for Billy to fall into.

“Have you taken any meds?”

“Nothing spectacular.”

His head sagged on the pillow, following Steve to the bathroom, where he found an ibuprofen bottle and shook out two tablets. His eyes followed Steve’s hand raking his hair off his face, and the movement of his throat around a swallow. The filling of a glass at one of the sinks.

Billy let him wrangle a pillow underneath his body so he could swallow the pills with ease. Before he did so, Billy informed, “The blue pill bottle is sleeping meds.”

Steve went and read the label, even peeling the thing off to read the lengthy underside. “When did you last eat?”

“I’ll eat tomorrow. I need to rest now.”

But Steve went into the living room and pilfered through the mini fridge. He returned with apple juice and a granola bar. “If you take this on an empty stomach, you might vomit. I’m not letting you suffocate in your sleep.”

“They put that on there to avoid lawsuits,” Billy complained even while he accepted the juice bottle. He munched slowly, almost carefully on the sugar-glazed nuts of the granola bar while…

Steve got dressed. In Billy’s clothes.

He crouched right in between Billy’s suitcase and the open wardrobe to select one of his long-sleeves and boxer briefs. Billy blinked softly, feeling warmth blossom through his chest and sink through his belly.

Regardless, he sassed, “You’re not gonna sleep naked with me?”

Steve climbed next to him, facing him as if he intended to get up again soon. He tore into his own granola bar. “I don’t know what to expect with you. I’d rather not be forced out of the building naked.”

Billy’s hand touched his leg as he bit into the bar. “Nothing’s going to happen. There’s a menu on the table out there. Order room service.”

“Tomorrow,” Steve refused with a cheek full of almonds. “We’ll eat tomorrow. Or…when the sun’s up in two hours.”

Billy didn’t ask him to, but Steve stroked fingers through his hair after Billy took his sleeping medicine. “Don’t leave,” he moaned tiredly, the force of the little pill dragging him under.

“I’m not leaving. But you can’t octopus me in your sleep.”

Billy sighed, intending for more words to come out than the ones that did. “…test me…”

When his breaths came and went like the heavy sway of the ocean, Steve kept petting through his hair. Even though Billy couldn’t hear him anymore, Steve sighed, “Scared the shit out of me, idiot. I missed you. Don’t do that.”

Billy hummed in his sleep as if he heard him. Even drugged unconscious, the man tried to retort.

Steve leaned down to kiss his temple and tucked him in to keep him warm. When a knock on the door sounded, Steve donned one of the bathrobes and held a shoehorn behind the door as he answered. The shoehorn was a ridiculous ornate thing from the wardrobe; more like a walking stick than a device to help a heel slip into a boot.

The woman on the other side of the door dressed as expensively as Billy and appeared just as austere. Steve had never seen her before even though she acted like she knew him. “Is he well?”

“He’s asleep. What do you need?”

“To go over his intended schedule for today.”

“Reschedule it. He isn’t doing anything for at least two days.”

She did not look anxious. Merely…disappointed? “That will be…difficult.”

“He’s a difficult man,” Steve sighed, his posture tilting back into the room and warranting an end to this discussion. “Whoever expects to see him likely knows that.”

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington,” she dismissed.

“What is your name?” he halted.

“Elena Varma. Hargrove knows me as Elicit Vagina.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, and if she were anyone other than Billy’s secretary and personal guard, now would be the time to take his head off. Instead, she elaborated, “I’m a lesbian.”

“Right,” he nodded dazedly. “Are you single? I know somebody.”

Her dark eyes narrowed at him, but her mouth and brows moved with amusement. Like a test, she inquired, “Are they butch?”

“No,” he said a bit perplexedly, thinking of Robin’s amber blond bob and all of her many-colored Converse on which she doodled.

A pause. Then, “Does she have bad taste?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’ll be in touch.”

Steve exhaled, “Great,” under his breath as he shut the door. Crossing over to the living room, he set the shoehorn down and picked up the room service menu.

When Billy’s eyes next opened, it was to the beckoning of dishware clatter and summons of browned butter and tangy, aromatic cheese.

Steve sat much as he last remembered, sitting facing Billy while a tray sat where his pillows ought to be. A cart of more food stood by the food of the bed. Billy’s blurry gaze traveled back to Steve, who chewed on a croissant with a newspaper, of all things, in his hand.

It was perfect.

Minus the abhorrent headache and parchedness of his throat.

“Coffee.”

Billy couldn’t not smile at the wide eyes that lifted up to him. Steve rushed to swallow the lump in his cheek and handed him his glass of water from the tray. Billy shook his head. “No. Coffee.”

“Water first.”

Billy sighed and leaned over as much as his injured side allowed him to. He drained the glass. And he never got his coffee. Steve made him drink a strong cup of tea, as if that would replace Billy’s usual espresso in the morning.

“Your, um, personal assistant came by. She knows to reschedule all of your—whatever you do. I said you need two days.”

“Two days?” Billy chirped in the middle of grumbling over his tea. “That’s a vacation.”

Steve huffed a sound, but looked toward the window and it’s sheer, white curtains. “What street are we on?”

“What was that sound?” Billy diverted.

Steve looked at him. “What sound?”

“The sound you just made.”

“You mean the sound of you complaining that I work too much but consider two days a vacation. That sound?”

“Yeah, that sound,” he remarked. “I stand by what I said. You don’t need two jobs.”

“Billy, you got stabbed yesterday. Twice. Or whatever the hell happened to you.”

“I’ll have you know I was only stabbed once. The side mirror of a moving car clipped my other side.”

Whatever mirth he intended to be in that statement wilted in the face of Steve’s glare. Billy took the silent admonishment with grace and, after a moment, said, “I’m not the criminal you think I am.”

“I never said you were one.”

“Walking around with a stab wound and clear assault damage isn’t helping my case,” he responded with another unhappy sip of his tea. At least Steve put milk and sugar in it. Dessert for breakfast.

“Long story short: I got a job and the old man CEO noticed me. He liked me a lot. I was the one male secretary in the place; it was easy to notice me. The women liked me—”

“Women have always liked you,” Steve retorted quietly. But he set his things on the tray and laid across the bed to pillow his head on Billy’s thigh.

He gazed up at him while Billy continued, “It was easy. If the head of a building likes you, job promotions come fast. Training happens in the boss’s own office. Then the asshole died and both his heir, and the board, did not take it well to my name being in the will. I��ve been cleaning up a lot of their mess.”

Steve listened and processed, “This heir was driving the car?”

Billy snorted and instantly grimaced for the pain it caused him. Steve began to get up for the painkillers, but Billy’s fingers plunged into his hair; not gripping him, but softly holding his head. “Stay. I’m fine. No, I doubt the idiot even has a license. He can’t aim a blade, either. He’s running out of money, that’s why he’s so desperate.”

“Where is he now?”

Billy’s head tilted almost piteously at him. “Do you really want to know that?”

“Well I can’t decide which is more romantic: inviting me into a shit storm, or making sure I’m safe first.”

He could see some of the tension leave Billy’s face and shoulders as he reached for Steve’s tray and took his other croissant. “He’s in the hospital. But I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Steve could read between the lines. “Us trust fund kids. We’re not built for street fighting.”

That earned an animated frown from Billy, who spoke regardless of his full mouth. “You gave me a hell of a wallop once.”

“I lost that fight.”

“You didn’t have a homophobic, retired veteran waiting for you to bring your sister home. And this guy clearly doesn’t have a pretty boy waiting for him or he might’ve won.”

Steve laughed but it faded as he just…marveled at Billy. They had never talked this openly before. However proud of Billy he felt, though, the nagging dark corner of his brain turned his thoughts onto himself. He let slip:

“You work so much harder than me.”

Billy immediately wasn’t having it. His head tilted again but instead of pity, it was chastisement. “Steve.”

“No, no—I just mean I’m proud of you.”

“You can be proud of me without sounding like I’m about to toss you out onto the curb. I just told you the very idea of you helped keep me alive.”

“And I abandoned two jobs and an overpriced apartment to be here, so I hope you mean it. You might be keeping both of us alive for a while—Hey.”

In between thrown bits of croissant and grapes, Billy chided, “I’ve been. Trying. To convince you. That I mean it. And it takes a drive-by to. Get. Your. Attention.”

“Okay! Okay—this is disgusting. Stop it!”

Steve reared up only to be ensnared by Billy’s overstretched arms. Steve caught himself on Billy’s collarbones so he did not press on his chest, tugging the skin on his sides. “B! Be careful.”

A hand cradled the side of Steve’s head as a soft smirk lifted Billy’s mouth. “Let me kiss you.”

Steve, defiant till the last, pushed him down so he didn’t exert himself. Then he kissed Billy slowly, reverently. He liked kissing Billy a whole lot. Loved it. He liked Billy’s taste and the sound of their lips parting before meeting for more. He liked the puffs of Billy’s breath across his cheek and his hands reaching for Steve. Finding him. Holding him.

Eventually, though, Billy whispered against his lips, “Why did you ask what street we’re on?”

Steve rolled his lips together, perhaps seeking a balm for being chapped from kissing, or nerves. “It’s fashion week. We might be able to see stuff from the window.”

Billy claimed one more kiss and then released him to clean up the bed and scout the street below. Billy managed to reach the bathroom on his own, where he took another pair of meds and readied for a day in. With Steve.

Steve, who insisted he stay in bed.

Steve, who found a full-length mirror in the wardrobe and held it half out the window so Billy could see the horizon of the street reflected from his place on the bed. He watched Steve more than anything. His giggles at how ridiculous it was to hold a mirror out the window. When his features relaxed as he watched the traffic and people arriving to a place a few blocks down. When he asked Billy if

“Can you see the red coat? That thing’s massive.”

And, “Somebody famous just got there. The paparazzi are going nuts.”

Steve really should have expected the events of the next day, but Billy still faced the stern glare and long blinks when he sighed. “B, you’ve only rested a day. Your stitches could still tear.”

“One runway isn’t going to kill me. We’ll pop in and not attend the after party. Elicit’s already managed to get tickets—”

“Her name’s Elena,” Steve frowned with his hands on his hips.

“No, it isn’t,” Billy scoffed, and went to dissect Steve’s luggage himself...

He grasped the linen shoe bag, recognizing the shape inside. He lifted one of the Hot Chick 100s. “You took packing seriously, huh?”

Steve seemed to be really grappling with patience. “I didn’t know what you needed. A nurse or a kinky leg to hold onto.”

“So I got both,” he grinned.

A reluctant, little smile pulled at Steve’s face. “I’m not wearing those out.”

Billy had already set the pair on the living room table when he grimaced, “What? Why not?”

Steve glanced at the windows like they might hold an answer. “Because I’ll be giant and make more noise than anyone else in heels.”

Billy wasn’t buying it. He held onto the back of the couch to help himself stand and then made his way to his own clothes. “If there’s any time to wear what you want and get away with it, it’s fashion week. Come here, no one’s going to let you wear jeans beside a runway.”

Billy had way too much fun dressing him. A quiet little warning bell went off in Steve’s head over this, but he couldn’t listen to it without also admitting that he enjoyed himself. One of Billy’s silk button-ups around his body felt nice.

Intimate.

A black suit jacket over it made Steve feel chic and professional. And when Billy asked him to lift his foot onto the bed, Billy double wrapped the chain of his pendant around Steve’s ankle. Amber and opals on one side, and a golden saint on the other.

“If you’re tired or hurt at any point, tell me,” Steve lectured in the car.

“Yes, dear.”

“I mean it,” he insisted, but Billy’s hand on his thigh tightened.

“I know, baby. I’m okay. The show’s not even two hours long. Try to relax. You look real hot.”

Steve snorted and rubbed the silk of his shirt between his fingers. “Is this shirt new?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’ve never seen you wear it. And it would’ve matched my green shoes,” he added with slanted eyes at him.

“So what if I wanted to match my partner? Try and sue me.”

Partner. Steve caught his face in his hand, eyes aching with the moisture overflowing from his heart.

The car pulled up alongside a bustling street. Elena Varma accompanied them through the open double doors, but she kept to herself. She sheltered Billy’s other side while Steve slid an arm over Billy’s shoulders and held onto him. If a pair of eyes scrutinized them, Billy was hardly the only rich man with a pretty thing in heels on his arm. And people only had compliments for Steve’s classic choice in shoe.

The off-duty models sitting around them in the chairs along the runway were very sweet. Steve and Billy kindly refused their inquiries over attending the later afternoon events, but gratefully accepted their information about the show.

Models talk. And in this world where everyone knows someone who knows everyone, the models explained the architecture of the runway, the designer’s vision, the gossip about the model opening the show, and the model closing the show, etc.

“I like the butterflies,” Steve said, pointing to the ceiling, where a myriad of paper butterflies on wires fluttered with the air conditioning ventilation.

“I like you.”

Steve pointed flustered but narrowed eyes on him. “Are you even paying attention?”

“To the important things,” Billy replied, leaning back with an arm over the back of Steve’s chair. He did contribute, “I like the columns. The effect of the eroded marble and gold filigree is interesting. I enjoy looking at it.”

Steve leaned into him, resting a hand on Billy’s thigh as the lighting changed and the show began. The fashion proved largely sculptural instead of practical, but Steve pointed as models went by.

“My mom would know what that means.”

“If the designer was inspired by Greece, then it’s something mythological. Greece seems to be very in right now.”

“You read my magazines,” Steve accused with a smile.

“I smell the colognes.”

That earned Billy a soft nudge before Steve’s jaw relaxed in sight of a male model striding past them. “You’d look really good in that.”

“The gold speedo?”

“No,” he lightly slapped Billy’s knee. “The shirt.”

“I don’t really go for pastels.”

Steve turned soft eyes on him. He touched the underside of Billy’s chin with a fond knuckle. “You and your jewel tones.”

Then a model turned onto the stage wearing a sweatshirt totally encrusted with jewels. Steve and Billy exchanged looks, which ended with Steve covering his laughter and Billy pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve and Billy left the show with at least one pocket full of models’ agents’ business cards. Steve had taken the time to write the models’ names on each card along with a descriptor, as if they actually intended to remember and reach out to them later that night, should their plans change.

Their plan did not change.

If anything, Steve and Billy only more firmly wanted to retire to their hotel room after they ordered coffees—and Steve nearly broke his ankle stepping off the pavement.

“The puddle lied! The water lied to me,” he lamented through laughter, having thought that the water was far shallower than it actually proved to be. He powered through their venture in the coffee shop, but as soon as they were in the car, Billy pulled his leg up to inspect his ankle and Steve held up one of the shoes.

“Holy shit. Look at that.” The flat of the heel now had a harsh angle to it, as if he’d worn these shoes for a decade instead of thrown off his stride by a waterlogged pothole. Both shoes had water and grit on the insides too.

“I’m sorry, B. These might need some work—Oo!”

Billy had touched his ice coffee to Steve’s ankle. “Don’t worry about it. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” he said on a lighter note. “The ladies we sat with were really nice.”

“What about the show?”

That gave Steve pause. “Um. Honestly? They all walked too fast for me to really see much.”

Billy laughed so hard his stitches made him stop.

[thegreymoon]

Broker

Oh, ffs 🙄

***

YES!!

PLEASE, AND THANK YOU!

***

Ugh, I hate it when a show gets on a soapbox like this to make the main lead somehow morally superior through idiocy of this kind 🤮

NOBODY in their right mind goes and advocates for a nasty, jealous backstabber who has been making their work life miserable to stay in the workplace after making a critical mistake. There is being kind, and then there is being this fucking stupid. 

***

OH FOR FUCKS SAKE.

But richly deserved, nonetheless 🤬🤬 She should not have stuck her nose in here and should have let the backstabbing moron get fired. With that said, if Moron™ sabotages her experiment, I hope Xiaoshan murders her and dissolves her body in a vat of acid. 

***

LMAOOOOO, the dude has lost his everloving mind 🤣🤣

This was me, everyday, at my old job 🤣🤣 When it became incomparably difficult to restrain myself from beating my shitty boss and his fucking bootlicker with a chair, I decided to quit. 

***

LMAO, this has got to be the weirdest dick-measuring contest I have ever come across in dramas: competing who is better at implanting fertilized cells into mice 🤣🤣

Anyway. Go! Go, Xiaoshan!! I am rooting for you!! 🎉🎉

***

Who would have thought watching mice get inseminated could be this exciting 😅😅

***

The amount of privacy and confidentiality laws this fucking clown working in a GOVERNMENT HOSPITAL keeps breaking on a daily basis is just staggering. 

***

OMFG, they are explaining the fucking Schrödinger cat 💀💀 WHY? WHO CARES?? LET’S GO BACK TO INSEMINATING MICE, PLEASE!

***

I cannot even begin to describe how much I don’t care for the office nonsense, either at Jianing’s lab or the idiot sister’s hospital 🙄🙄 Come on, people, you know what we are all here for! Please bring LYX back! 

***

LMAOOO, WTF WAS THIS WHOLE THING WITH THE MUSCLE CAR 😅😅

Oh, Jianing, so you are also a special kind of insane, aren’t you 😬 I was kind of waiting here with a baseball bat to beat the living daylights out of Xiaoshan when he inevitably drags you into into his secret mobster lifestyle, but you would like that, wouldn’t you? 😅😅

***

Aww, babies had a quarrel and are no longer sitting together 🤗

The adorable angst of it! Let’s see if it lasts past this episode 😋

***

Baby won the stupid mice insemination bet!! 🥳🥳

Anyway, this whole thing was incredibly stupid. Imagine letting one of your best researchers go because of some bruised egos and ruffled feathers 🙄 All of this for some pointless drama. The whole thing is ridiculous. Mr Wang (or whatever that old man at the head of the lab is called) should have put a stop to this bloody nonsense immediately, but then again, he does seem very incompetent, considering he has been letting his underlings run around like a bunch of middle school mean girls and cultivating the most toxic of work environments 🤮

***

At least they are back to sitting together 😄

I love them together 💙🖤

***

LMAO, did Moli’s potential boyfriend just get Gege approved only because he watches the same cartoon as Jianing? 🤣🤣🤣

***

LMAOOOOO, and how would you like to be punished, cutie? 😏😏

LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND TELL ME HIS MIND IS NOT ALL THE WAY IN THE GUTTER 🤣🤣

***

Crying 🤣🤣

Asexuals unite!! I will never forget that one time in college when I was doing this stupid quiz with some friends and the question was whether I would choose great sex for the rest of my life, or great internet, and I of course chose the internet. I didn’t even need to think about it and only figured out it was the “wrong” answer because everyone was staring at me like I’d grown a second head 🤣🤣 But, of course, I too might be persuaded to make an exception for LYX 😋

***

LMAO, I couldn’t agree more!

Chocolate wins over men any day! 

***

His face 🤣🤣 I can’t stop laughing 🤣🤣🤣

This is the first time this pair of clowns has been actually funny since the show started 🤣🤣

***

OMG, they are also advertising Wolong nuts 🤣🤣

This episode is turning out to be unexpectedly satisfying and hilarious! 

***

OMFG, she’s such a goddamn moron 😫

I have never in my life studied chemistry nor been in a lab and even I know that you have to go in appropriately dressed, and you’re telling me that this idiotic woman is supposed to be an expert in this field?? 

With that said, she is so inappropriate, immature and irresponsible. Sun Lei has all the points in the world for wanting her gone. Seriously, how does she still have a fucking job?? And what the absolute hell is wrong with Jianing, taking her on a CRITICAL fucking project that she’s absolutely going to try and sabotage because she’s a resentful, ungrateful idiot 🤬🤬

***

The cafeteria gossip bores me out of my mind. It’s so base and inane 😑 Please, let’s go back to the lab to grow things! 😭😭

***

Okay, so the two of them have an insane amount of chemistry 🔥🔥 

I AM SHIPPING, SHIPPING, SHIPPING 🛳🛳

***

God, she’s so hot in her pink suit, I will cry 😭😭

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Let It Die

Chapter 2: If You Love Me

Summary: Loki makes a plan with Thor to win back Reader’s heart.

Your room had become your personal ice castle. Small frozen ice sculptures were decorating your window sills while a light ring of frost surrounded the window panes. Snow lightly covered your dresser and nightstand while your bed was piled high with thick blankets. Not that you really needed them. As an ice queen once said: the cold never bothered you anyway.

Not that your were like the ice mutant on the X-Men team; you couldn’t turn your whole body into movable ice. But you thrived when the temperature dropped. Which was also a downside. You could never go on missions in desert areas. No moisture in the air meant no powers for you.

When you met Loki, you felt all your dreams came true. You never had to worry about accidentally freezing him in your sleep. And with your mutation, his frost giant skin never harmed you. Not that he showed that form very often.

He had a sweet side to him no one else had seen and could make you feel like the most important person in the world. Loki also had the bad habit of cutting you into pieces, as if dissecting you would help him understand humanity better. All he accomplished was cutting into your self esteem.

You couldn’t understand why you were so upset. It was no secret that he would have outlived you without even trying. There were rumors, whispers that there were ways to make a mortal live as long as an Asgardian - er, frost giant. But since Loki never once brought it up in the two years you had dated, you just assumed there was no truth to them. And you hated the idea of looked so old and worn next to him in 50 years while he looked untouched by time.

There was a gentle knock on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Hey hon. Can we come in? We promise mortals only.”

You smiled and shook your head before opening the door to let Natasha and Wanda in. “Hey guys. Sorry about earlier. I just wasn’t in the mood to look at yet another gift from the dumbass.”

“Don’t worry about it. If anything, it’s been the liveliest we’ve seen you in months!” Wanda sat down on your bed and immediately wrapped a blanket around her. Nat followed suit. Both of their breaths were visible.

“Well, sorry about the temp in here, then.” You chuckled as you sat back down. “I guess I don’t have many guests in here as of late.”

“It’s ok, really. Your comfort is number one right now.” Nat tried to reassure you. “Besides, we were hoping to get you to leave your igloo tonight.”

You laughed again. “Ok, ok. I get it. My powers have been out of control lately. Every time I think I’m back to normal, Loki comes around and fucks it up all over again.”

“Want me to kill him?” Nat asked, deadpanned.

“Thanks, but that won’t help. My problem is I still love the asshole. And I don’t even know why! Yeah, he could be really romantic at times and-“ you paused and gave the girls a side glance, "other reasons as well. I’ll spare you.”

“Thanks,” Nat pretended to gag. “I personally don’t see it, but I also had to battle against him at one time.”

You smirked. “Fair. But man, he could really be a douche at times. I don’t even think he realized he was doing it half the times. I’d do something and instead of being proud, he’d point out what I did wrong. Made me want to punch him in the nuts.”

“So why do you hang on?“ You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I mean no offence, but it seems like there a small part of you that still hangs on. Like I get you still love the guy, but what’s there that’s making you hang on instead of trying to move on?”

You sighed and leaned back into your chair. “Ok, so maybe I do know why I still love him. Loki…. has this side that no one but Thor and I have seen and I wish he would let it out around more people. He has an amazingly kind heart. Yeah, I know, I know.” You held up your had as Nat opened her mouth. “I literally just said the man could be a douche at times. The times he criticized me, it was for things that pertained to our job. I didn’t throw the knife right. My stance is too wide. I breathe too loud, the enemy will hear me. But when it came to everyday life…. he could’t praise me enough. He loved to watch me cook and listen to me sing. Snow days…” you sighed, “those were my favorite. But I wanted his approval for work. How could we work together on a mission when all I could think about was how I wasn’t doing something correctly? And then the mortality thing….”

“It all comes down then to if he can reign in how much he criticizes your work would it be worth it to try again when he’ll just outlive you?”

“Pretty much. But I doubt that will happen. That man likes to think he’s the best when it comes to fighting and war. Just because he’s a freakin’ god.”

Wanda looked over at Nat and nodded her head. “Ok, sweetie. Enough moping! We’re getting your out of here and clearing your head. So get dressed, it’s time for a night out!”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Yeah, maybe that is a good idea. If I clear my head maybe I’ll be able to control my powers better even if I never make a decision about Loki.”

“That’s the spirit!” They left you to change your clothes and you opted for dark black pants, black and silver boots, and a icy blue top.

You met the girls in the common area and Nat had opted for a stunning tight, black dress while Wanda wore a dress the same shade of red as her hair. The three of you piled into a car Nat had hired for the night and headed into town. Wanda picked out a very upscale club and the three of you managed to talked you way in past the bouncer and the incredibly long line. The place was packed but the three of you managed to make your way over to the bar to grab a drink before trying to find a table.

“Man, it’s hella packed in here! Maybe we should have invited Stark so we could abuse the VIP section.” You shouted over the music.

“You rang?”

You whirled around to find Tony at your side. “What are you doing here?”

“Night out, of course! I even brought my own lady.” Pepper looped her arm in his. “Actually, Nat told us what she had planned for tonight and we decided to tag along. We’ve been worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Tony leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re all here tonight.”

“We?”

Tony just smirked and held out his other arm. You couldn’t help the grin as you took it so he could lead you across the crowded club. People immediately parted out of the way of your entourage as you made your way to the VIP corner. There a mix of your friends were waiting for you: Sam, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Rhodey, Vision, and Maria.

“Young Mr. Parker sends his regards. He was dying to come here, but I wasn’t about to break the rules to sneak him in.”

“Glad to hear you’re trying to be a good influence on the kid, Stark.”

“I have my moments.”

You climbed into the booth next to Thor while Tony and Rhodey pulled over another set of table and chairs. “So you guys subjected yourself to an overly crowded club just because you were worried about me?”

“Of course, Dear ____!” Thor’s voice easily boomed over the music. “We are your friends and we care about you.”

You looked down at your drink as you spoke to Thor. “And what about your brother?”

“Loki sends his regards if you’ll have them. He acknowledges he has been an ass to you lately.”

A corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “It’s what he does best.”

“If I may, I would like to say something on his behalf.” You took a deep breath but nodded your head yes. “My brother is not the best at expressing his feelings. A trait, I am afraid, he learned from Odin. You do not have to give him a second chance, but I would hope you could at least have one last conversation with him before making your finally decision.”

You took a long gulp of your drink before answering. “Alright, I will. For you, Thor. You’ve always been like a brother to me. If this means so much to you, then I will.”

Thor’s face lit up as he smiled at you. “I was hoping you would say yes. Now we can get to your surprise!”

“My what?”

Before Thor could answer, the DJ’s voice rang out through the speakers. “This next one is a request. Dedicated to the Icy Monarch from the Frost Giant!”

You whipped your head to look at Thor. “Loki’s here?! What’s going on?”

Thor held up one hand. “Just listen, Dear _____.”

The song began to swirl around you:

I cut you into pieces Searching for your imperfections I had plans to make you whole But all my threads couldn’t stop the bleeding There’s nothing left, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

You’re breath caught in your throat as you listened to the lyrics.

I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Your eyes stare right through me Ignoring my failed attempts to Breathe back life into your veins But I can’t start your cold heart beating You’re so far gone, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

It was like your relationship and the last two months following the break up coming to life in front of your eyes. And then he walked into your line of sight and goddamn, he could always make a suit look good. Black suit, black shirt, a tie as green as his eyes, and a small black box in his hands. Your heart raced as he quietly walked up to you and set the box by your drink. Everyone at the table sat as still as statues, not wanting to disturb the scene in front of them.

You reached for the box and began to open it as the end of the song rang out:

And you left me more dead Than you’ll ever know When you left me alone I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Inside the box was a single gold apple. It was the oddest thing Loki had ever given you and you weren’t sure as to what it was. Picking it up, it was instantly clear that the apple was far lighter than you expected and softer as well. As if you could actually eat the golden fruit.

You raised your eyes back up to the Trickster God. “My dear, I have behaved horribly towards you. You loved me more than I ever deserved and I couldn’t even give you what you needed. If it is possible, I would like a second chance to prove I can be worthy of your love. And in exchange, I present the Golden Apple of Idun’s orchard.”

“I’m-I’m sorry. A what?”

“A golden apple. It is to be consumed by a mortal wishing to extend their life. Forgive me, I never brought them up before as I feared you would only want the apple. Not me. No one has ever wanted me for what I was.”

You looked up into his eyes. “I did. In any form you would give me.”

He knelt down by your side. “I know that now and I am a fool for not seeing it sooner. I know it is asking for the world, but I would love to give us a second chance. Because you are my world.”

Your lower lip trembled and you placed the apple back before closing the lid on the box. Loki’s face fell. “I cannot accept this apple.”

“Of course. I understand.” He lowered his eyes.

“Loki, please let me finish.” You placed your hand under his chin and lifted his face so he was looking at you again. “I will not accept this apple at this time. We first need to talk about the problems we have and if it’s possible to fix them. Only after we have gotten our footing back will I eat the apple for you.”

“So…”

“Yes, Loki. I will give us a second chance.”

Loki’s joy was clear on his face and beyond words. He stood up, pulling you with him, so he could engulf you in a hug. “I promise to make myself worthy of this chance. You are my love.”

“And you are my Frost Giant.” You gave him a quick kiss.

[merryfortune]

Blue since the day we parted

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt: #13 Blue

Ship: Ai/Shoichi/Yusaku

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: T

Warnings: Choose Not to Warn

Tags: Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending, Missing Scene Fic

   A tear glistened in the corner of Playmaker’s eye as he reached out into that cloudy, blue sky and touched Ai, plucking him from the digital space.

   Ai convulsed inside his hand. Just an eyeball. Reconstructed, refigured, recantered and then he remembered. Playmaker’s heart lurched with worry as he cradled Ai, standing into the wind and letting it roll off him as he waited for Ai to say something. To do something. Anything. And then a tear to match the ones dripping slowly down the side of Playmaker’s face welled up on the rubber duct of Ai’s entire eyeball.

   “Yusaku…?” he murmured. “Yusaku! Yusaku! My Yusaku!”

   “Y-Yeah, it's me, Ai.” Playmaker beamed and Ai was happy that such a wide smile would be his first memory in this refreshed, new world.

   “I thought… I thought I was a goner.” Ai mumbled, grateful to be alive but grim in his certainty that he was very much not so supposed to be alive.

   “You know me,” Playmaker shrugged, “once I decide something, it becomes my purpose. Be it for three months or ten years, I just get absorbed in that one singular desire. Looking for you, piecing you back together, that was my one desire this time.”

   “And I bet it was just as destructive for you than if was just plain ol’ revenge.” Ai replied.

   Playmaker didn’t have a verbal response to that but the guilty look on his face spoke volumes. Ai nodded in his hands, moving himself up and down against Playmaker’s palms.

   “I thought as much.” Ai mumbled. “You never really change and yet…?”

   It, too, was written all over Playmaker’s face just as much as the guilt of having pushed aside so many of his connections just so he could reconnect to this one. Playmaker found it worth it though. Unbelievably worth it. He kept smiling, even if his initial grin had shrunken in on itself and steeped with guilt.

   “I can’t help it, your right,” Playmaker replied, murmuring, “Ai means to love people but I feel like I can only do it when I have…”

   “Ai?” Ai piped up hopefully.

   “Yeah, exactly.” Playmaker told him.

   “Oh, you incorrigible…!” Ai complained and he seemed rather cranky in Playmaker’s hands now, frowning and pouting but then he let up on it. “I love you, too. Thank you for bringing me back, for having hope.”

   “My pleasure.” Playmaker replied.

   “So, what now?” asked Ai. “Am I going to be stuck like this forever? My handsome visages? Gone, perished, truly a fate worse than death.”

   “I’ve got that all figured out,” Playmaker assured Ai, “So let’s log-out.” He shifted slightly and an admittance followed, “There’s someone else I really want back now, though, as well. Its kind of co-linked to getting your body back, too.”

   Ai had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what that meant so he perked up immediately, “Let’s get to it then, Playmaker! Seize the wind, already!”

   Playmaker laughed and it was such a lovely sound to Ai. It was unrehearsed and croaky but it was laughter nonetheless. They logged out together shortly afterwards. A cavalcade of pale blue data turning into sparkling shards of data before disappearing entirely.

   When they resurfaced, the location was not where Ai expected. He was still in the palm of Yusaku’s hands as he ventured out of a dark niche where his Link VRAINS rig was set up. It was familiar but it wasn’t home - or at least Yusaku’s apartment, even if it had never really felt like home until the end, when it was more about the emotions imbued in the walls than the walls themselves.

   Looking around, the first thing Ai saw, through the guards of Yusaku’s fingers, was the ocean. It was about midday, early afternoon, and the ocean was sparkling. It was a rich azure through the silver railing and the framing of the huge doorway into this building that Yusaku had made his next hovel. Ai realised where they were; they were at the site of their final showdown, if not a warehouse or two either.

   Ai wriggled in Yusaku’s hands so he could look up to him, “What happened to the apartment?” he asked. “Wh-Where’s Roboppy’s shell?”

   “Somewhere safe, don’t worry,” Yusaku replied and then he shrugged, his gaze grew distant, “I’m not sure what happened to the apartment. Landlord never tried to contact me when I bailed, I left behind whatever I couldn’t bring with me so I could stay here. It was easier than trying to move all your stockpiles there. Mightn’t be the most luxurious of places but its quiet here.”

   “Yeah, nothing more soothing than the sounds of construction.” Ai complained because he knew, for one, that he could hear the sound of jackhammers somewhere along the industrial pier.

   “Okay, serene.” Yusaku corrected himself.

   “But if there’s people around… how are you…?” Ai’s voice trailed off.

   “It’s not easy but I’ve managed alright to hide out undetected. I think the workers enjoy having a ghost around. So long as it doesn’t touch anything important, they don’t care if some electricity is pilfered.” Yusaku said but he brightened up, returned his gaze to Ai. “But now that we’re together again, let’s try and find somewhere really nice to live, yeah?”

   “Yeah.” Ai excitedly replied.

   “So let’s get you into your not-meat suit.” Yusaku said. “I don’t have all the means to give you back your Ignis body but take your pick of SOLtiS bodies.”

   Yusaku drifted through the vast, freezing warehouse like it was his home, showing Ai to one of the many stashes of cold, lifeless bodies that belonged to them. As eerie as it was to have so many empty SOLtiS androids around, Ai jumped into one enthusiastically. He wormed and wriggled his way into their shell and the eyeball became a beating heart. Yusaku watched, breathless, as a dressed and ready Ai appeared before him in the form of his dashing persona as a human.

   Whilst Ai may have been groggy and vague at first upon revival, he was really in the swing of things now as he popped up on his two legs like he was born to walk. Yusaku smiled gently whilst Ai stretched out all his nuts and bolts, making sure his limbs hadn’t rusted and got as close to limber as a robot could be and at the very end, made a very satisfied sigh.

   “Alright, what’s next?” Ai asked.

   “I think you know,” Yusaku said and though his heart thudded in his chest, a beg not to, he reached out to take Ai’s hand, “let’s go.”

   “Of course, partner.” Ai replied affectionately.

   Their fingers intertwined and linked together and then they were off with the wind. Not forever, obviously, Yusaku wanted to circle back later to grab Roboppy and a few other things that would be difficult to replace retroactively but for now, he and Ai were really putting the blues of the warehouse behind them both. And they both knew where they were headed on the interim, following the winding, concrete paths that allied themselves with the ocean so down below at the base of the steep cliffs here.

   When they arrived where they wanted to go, they still arrived looking like they ought to be dead. A corpse and a ghost: neither sure which was which but it was worth it.

   Cafe Nagi’s van was set up to the side of the Stardust Road. The last of the lunch time rush customers were trickling in and out, a waiter with a fluffy ponytail darting around them, fetching them refreshments and the like who paused to stare, puzzled, as his brother abandoned his post behind the grill.

   Yusaku smiled, tears in his eyes again that turned his smile creaky and all the more sincere, “Hey Kusanagi,” he said as Shoichi rushed towards him and Ai with a disbelieving smile, “I-I’ve missed you.”

   Before Yusaku knew it, he was swept up in a big bear hug from Shoichi. His arms surged around Yusaku’s scrawny frame and were so warm, Yusaku couldn’t have been more thankful for it. He buried his wet face into Shoichi’s chest and wrapped his arms around Shoichi’s waist. He felt so cared for as Shoichi’s hand cradled the back of his head, his fingers in his blue hair - and Ai, Ai was involving himself in this hug one way or another, too. Trying to reach both Yusaku and Shoichi but Shoichi was hogging Yusaku but Ai didn’t mind.

   “Never - and I mean never - do that to me again.” Shoichi growled. He was angry and sad and happy and relieved all at once. All that really broke through the barrage of emotions that he felt was love.

   “I promise.” Yusaku replied. He hugged back tighter. “I absolutely promise, I - I don’t want to be separated from you or Ai ever again, both of you are my precious partners.”

   “I believe you, Yusaku.” Shoichi consoled him. His head shifted to the left slightly, “And I mean it, Ai, I’m glad to see your back as well. I don’t want you running off either.”

   “It’s good to see you again, too, hot dog man.” Ai mumbled very fondly and with something of a tint of sadness. “And trust me,” he added, “there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now with you two.”

   “Same.” Yusaku mumbled.

   “I’m glad,” Shoichi replied softly and though he didn’t want to, he loosened his embrace of Yusaku so he could see his face properly, his cheeks were red and he looked dishevelled, there were bags under his eyes, “Yusaku? Ai?” Shoichi murmured.

   “Yeah?” Yusaku mumbled.

   Shoichi tilted his head to the side slightly, “Do you want to come live with me?” he asked. “Me and Jin?”

   “I’d love to.” Yusaku replied.

   “Me too.” Ai added on.

   Yusaku hugged Shoichi again. He couldn’t wait to move in with Shoichi and together they could get Ai his little Ignis body back too. It was all happening and Yusaku couldn’t be happier. He had been so depressed and angry since Ai died. Everything else became a blur to him. Lifeless, miserable. He didn’t want that anymore or ever again. So, he was determined to never let go of either Ai or Shoichi ever again and then, like an armory, the legendary spear and shield to pierce and protect and their tentacle monster too, they could go forward and progress. Reconnect and co-link. That’s all Yusaku wanted.

[mirrerover]

Big Plans

“You know shit’s never gonna fucking change, right?” Jason makes to grab for his Zippo. Remembering Dick will happily remove his nuts from his waxed sack for even contemplating smoking inside Dick’s apartment, he stops. His fingers twitch with irritation, nothing like a little nicotine deprivation to start the day. “Gotham’s a gothic nightmare where corruption runs thicker than blood and Blüdhaven’s worse, somehow. Like looking in a funhouse mirror. Uglier. More warped.”

“I really do enjoy our little morning pep talks,” Dick replies, closing the last two buttons on his dress shirt before tucking the fabric into the waistline of his pants. In general, Jason would say he prefers the Kevlar-enhanced, ass-hugging suit Dick prowls the night in—but there’s something to be said for a crisp, white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, forearm veins on display. He doesn’t know how the Blüdhaven criminals are faring but, personally, he wouldn’t mind letting Detective Richard Grayson slap some cuffs on him. Let Dick work him over hard in a surveilled box until Jason cracks, raw and bloody under the harsh fluorescent lights. 

“These fucking places,” Jason grumbles, tired and cranky from watching Dick getting ready to leave, all that warm, gold skin about to slip right out the door. “It’s not something anyone can fix. Nothing short of dropping a bomb on the damn place and razing it to the ground.” 

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s getting longer, strands brushing the bone of his jaw. He’s no stranger to this; Jason and the trash he talks. Words pouring out of him sharp as knives, the blades full of blood. Just endlessly spewing shit.

“No point to it all, huh?” Dick leans a hip against the dresser, arms folded, eyebrow raised. There’s an ease to him that’s inherent; the way he owns his body, his space, every room he’s in. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to lure me back to bed.”

 Jason thinks it over. Admits, “not originally,” and lets his legs fall apart slowly. Nude body lounging against cheap, synthetic pillows, he’s got Dick’s low-rent sheets strategically draped across his crotch, all tasteful and shit. Just like the Renaissance paintings cluttering the hallways of the Wayne Manor. None of the shameless, naked peacocking Dick gets up to after sex. No, Jason’s classy. Artful. The signature Jason Todd brand. “But are you feelin’ down to fuck?” he asks. 

Dick throws his head back and laughs. Really fucking laughs. Eyes scrunched up and shoulders shaking, all charisma and beauty and warmth. Laughing like that, it’s suddenly easy to see how a group of metahumans chose Dick as their leader despite his lack of superpowers or how the Blüdhaven Police Corps would accept him as their own despite him being the ward of Gotham’s favourite billionaire asshole. There’s something about Dick like there’s something about Bruce. Something captivating and inescapable that would make you launch a thousand ships for them. Burn down entire worlds for them. Jason’s not sure Dick’s aware of that. And in a way, Jason thinks he understands the Joker better than Bruce ever could. 

Dick’s laughter fades too slowly, and Jason would be annoyed but there’s a tightness to Dick’s pants that wasn’t there two minutes ago, and Dick’s always laughing. Joyful and happy. Like those are easy feelings to conjure and easy feelings to have. As if getting out of bed isn’t like crawling out of a dark pit every morning and as if life isn't like taking a suckerpunch to the gut, over and over.

“Wish I could,” Dicks says, and Jason swears he sounds like he means it. “But I got big plans today. Gotta save a city.”

“‘Save a city.’ Jesus Christ. More like go get shanked in the gut.”

Dick shrugs and slips on a watch. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The other bats all have their day jobs. The Police Detective, the Socialite, the rising Tech Wunderkind, and Jason’s personal favourite: the Student. Jason derives no small amount of pleasure from knowing that Bruce and the Demon Spawn get to suffer through the worst of it. Like an ill-fitted suit, Jason hopes it pulls and itches every time they’ve got to slip their disguises on. It shows how removed they are from the rot and the grit and the filth of what is Gotham. The gore at the core of it all. 

That’s where Jason lives, at its epicentre. 

He’d fallen into it naturally, being a crime lord. It had been a logical first step when he’d come home, head full of green fumes and rage. He’s proud to say, he puts the organized in organized crime. Outshines even the worst of them in calculated vicious violence. The crime part of the job, Jason can admit he’s gotten more discerning about. There’s no peddling drugs to kids or bleeding junkies dry, no people traded like cattle, and he doesn’t like selling guns to the lowlifes clogging Gotham’s streets. So, he’s become a parasite instead. Infiltrates a crime organisation and eats it from the inside out till it finally collapses. Scraps the dead beast for parts and money.

It’s not something Jason talks about with this version of Dick. His shady deals, his underground moonlighting. Never with a cop like the one making his way to the bed right now, uniform tight over thick thighs and a sway in his hips that’s nothing less than sexual warfare. 

“Try smoking in my bed again, Todd,” Dick warns, looming over him. He stops whatever threat he was going to utter, disrupted by Jason grousing at him to fucking let that go already. Perfectly pleasant, Dick does exactly that. Just stares at Jason with a face far too naked and utterly too fond. Something’s creeping under Jason’s skin at the sight of it—an itch he doesn’t know how to scratch, unable to decide whether he wants to kiss the prick or break his perfect face instead.

A little lower, there’s a bruise peeking out of Dick’s collar that looks like a handprint. Jason had put that there last night. Violently. Not even the fun kind of violent but the messy kind. The kind where something hunts Jason through nightmares and his body acts before his sleeping brain has had the chance to catch up—that kind of violence. Maybe a better person would wallow in the guilt and remove themselves from the situation. Not Dick and Jason. They just get better at hiding the batarangs and guns. The 200 pounds of well-trained muscle and murderous reflexes are a little harder to counteract but Dick’s no babe in the woods. Besides, Jason’s not exactly the first lethal bitch between Dick’s bedsheets.

Dick smiles. A teasing thing full of soft edges. “Mornings are hard. Aren’t they, Sugarplum?”

“Fuck you to hell.” Jason groans with feeling, hating the hard lumps of Dick’s mattress when he sinks back into them. “Just get lost already, Birdbrain. There’s no fucking point to you with your clothes on.”

“Nice to know I’m not completely useless.”

Jason wants to fight that far too favourable self-assessment. Would fight it, were he not half a pack of Lucky Strikes and three cups of coffee short of mustering the energy. Which is also the only reason he’s letting Dick press an off-centre kiss to his forehead. A shitty place for a shitty kiss from a shitty person, if you ask Jason. Very much Dick Grayson’s style.

“Try and behave, Little Wing.” Dick’s already moving away from the bed and shrugging on a jacket. “I really like this place. Got three South facing windows and none of the neighbours run a meth lab.”

“Prime Blüdhaven real estate,” Jason mutters darkly.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Dick takes one last look at himself at the mirror, shoots Jason a tacky wink because his existence is a curse, and promises under his breath something that sounds suspiciously like I’ll be back or I’ll miss you. Another twenty seconds later and Jason hears the front door lock click back into place.

His day is wide open now. 

There are things to do but there are always things to do. At any time, Jason’s got about forty things in various stages of motion. Always working on something. Someone. Bigger games than the one he’s running on Dick right now, lighting one up in his bed.

Blowing smoke up into the air, Jason decides that today he’s going to crack the safe Dick keeps behind the panel in his closet. Perfectly harmless, really. Just him fishing through some of Dick’s case files—maybe even solving a few, if he’s feeling charitable. And for tonight, there’s that Malaysian place three blocks over that does a better Rendang than anything he’s found in Gotham. Dick never shuts up about it. Like he’s never going to shut up about the cigarette smell seeping into the wallpaper.

Jason smirks. Solid options. He still has last night’s terrors painted on the back of his eyelids and the feeling of Dick’s neck under his hand but they’re slowly fading. And Dick’s got him covered, said he’d take care of the big plans, so Jason doesn’t have to. And next time, when Jason’s Dick and Dick’s Jason, he’ll have Dick covered too. Jason will tackle the big plans while Dick raids Jason’s fridge and leaves wet towels all over his apartment. Jason knows it’ll happen. It has happened. Just not today.

Maybe tomorrow.

----------------------

@wethatake thanks for being the beta and basically a co-writer. You suck but I love you. <3 Here’s to hoping that your sad little sack of a co-worker doesn’t kill you. XD

[thetriggeredhappy]

How about the team agreeing to play baseball with Scout for his birthday? Because they always admired how happy and free he looks when he's running. (SniperScout in between if possible would be great)

pushed up in the requests backlog for reasons. team bonding fic is best fic

(warnings for alcohol mention and passing non-graphic cartoonish violence)

-

“The hell is he so excited about?” Demo asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over his shoulder towards where Scout was laughing his way down the hall.

“No idea,” the Engineer said, shuffling the deck neatly. “Been all high-energy high-spirits the whole damn day.”

“Unfortunately,” Medic agreed, a little bitter. That garnered several more raised eyebrows from around the table.

“Twice in one day Doktor has to fix broken leg in fighting,” Heavy explained, placing a placating hand on Medic’s shoulder. “And Scout takes many bad risks. Overconfident.”

A questioning noise from within Pyro’s suit. “I’d sure like to know why, as well,” Engie nodded. “Tryin’ out some new energy drink, maybe?”

“High spirits and hubris from consistent victory?” Soldier suggested.

“You’re joking,” Sniper suddenly cut in, glancing around the table, who all looked right back, surprised to hear him cutting in on the usual gossip. “...You lot really didn’t remember?”

A snort from Spy, a vague shrug from the rest of the table.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

A pause, then noises of surprise, shock, and from some of the table, alarm. “A repeat of last year, how very unfortunate,” Spy hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

Pyro shouted something with no small amount of conviction that might have been along the lines of “this is terrible!”. Demo seemed to agree, from the shock on his face, the widening of his eye.

“Oh no,” Heavy rumbled, looking legitimately worried. Medic’s eyebrows were furrowed.

“I can’t believe you,” Sniper deadpanned, glaring at all the other mercenaries sitting there. “First year, you don’t bother wishing him a happy birthday. Second year, he plans a whole damn party for himself so you lot wouldn’t forget again and half of you don’t plan ahead and we get scheduled out on a mission and leave the bugger all alone all weekend. And you promise you won’t forget again. And one year later, here we are.”

Pyro appeared to be in a state of panic, pacing at high speed behind their chair, tugging at various points of their suit in high agitation. The Engineer’s face was largely hidden behind the hardhat and goggles and the hand clamped over the bottom part of his face.

“Perhaps he won’t be upset,” Medic suggested. “We all simply wish him a happy birthday and have drinks.”

“We do that every other weekend,” Demo pointed out. Soldier murmured in the affirmative.

“Sniper has remembered,” Heavy noted, looking at the man in question. “Maybe team helps with plans?”

“I already got him a gift,” Sniper mumbled, fidgeting with his hat. “But I don’t think we’ll manage to pass it off as from the whole team.”

“He’s gonna be so disappointed if he finds out that we forgot again,” Engie sighed, head in his hands. “It’ll break his damn heart.”

“So once again, it seems that I’ll need to step in and save you all,” Spy drawled, putting his glass down and reaching into his jacket, pulling out and unfolding a sheet of paper. “With your collective track record regarding this specific event, I assumed you would all forget again, and so took some steps to ensure that there would be a backup plan when the event arises and we wouldn’t need to deal with moodiness and general malaise from the team for the next several weeks.”

The Engineer took the paper, holding it so Medic could read it at the same time as him, Heavy leaning to try and get a look. Eyebrows began to rise. The paper was passed around the remainder of the table.

“You think this’ll work?” Demo asked suspiciously.

“Obviously. Well, and to be fair, you don’t exactly have any other options.”

He had them there.

-

“—Just totally can’t believe you talked Miss P into lettin’ us do this that’s just the coolest shit in the world lemme tell ya, like seriously that’s completely nuts and I can’t even believe it, she’s the best—!“

Scout had only stopped talking long enough to breathe over the course of the entire walk from the base to the makeshift baseball pitch that the Engineer had propped up overnight, absolutely bubbling and more high-energy than any of them had assumed to even be possible—even for him. And most of them had anticipated already hating the idea by the time they got to the pitch, but so far things were actually going rather well. The uniforms that had been shipped in (in their team colors, obviously) all fit them correctly and weren’t nearly as embarrassing as expected, in particular since most of them opted to keep at least one part of their usual wardrobe in the mix, such as masks or helmets or hats. Pyro, for one, just put the baseball uniform on over their entire flamesuit, but nobody was particularly surprised.

They crested the little ridge and got a look at the pitch, and for a moment, Scout went silent, eyes wide and mouth agape. Demo elbowed the Engineer to get his attention and flashed a thumbs up, making him grin and fluster a bit, mumbling about how it was nothin’ special, really.

“Alright,” Scout finally said, turning to them with his hands on his hips, taking on an authoritative tone. “So who here knows how baseball works?”

The Engineer and Soldier raised their hands. After a moment, Sniper and Pyro tentatively did the same. Demo made a so-so motion with one hand.

“And who knows how sandlot baseball works?”

Everyone but the Engineer dropped their hands, and even then, he looked a little doubtful.

“Alright,” Scout said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “So we don’t exactly got enough people to make a real team—need twelve for a standard six-players-a-team. So we’re gonna be improvising a little bit.”

He looked around, and started addressing each of them with a pointed finger.

“Heavy,” he said, and the giant raised an eyebrow. “You’re catcher, all you gotta do is stay behind first base and catch the ball so it doesn’t roll away. I know you’re not gonna flinch when you see somethin’ speeding at your head, yeah?”

Heavy nodded thoughtfully.

“Cyclops, first base,” Scout said next. “Fucks with your blind spot the least, and you know how to throw shit. Mumbles, you’re on second, Helmet-Head on third.”

Demo flashed a thumbs-up, Pyro clapped their hands together, and Soldier raised an arm in a sturdy salute.

“Doc, right field. Odds are, none of these chuckleheads are gonna hit anything too far to the left or right of normal, but if they do, you’re like practically as fast as I am and can handle it. Spy, you hang out back there in left field. I know you’re probably not gonna catch shit if it comes at you, but hey, it’s worth a shot and you won’t gotta deal with much anyways.”

Medic nodded at the compliment and Spy raised an eyebrow at the insult.

“And Snipes, you’re the pitcher,” Scout concluded, hands returning to his hips.

There was a snort from Demo. Sniper elbowed him.

“Figured you know how to throw shit and won’t straight up brain anyone,” Scout continued, not noticing the squabble. “And I’ll be first up to bat, and we’ll cycle through everyone in that same order, starting as soon as you guys can stop me from running all the bases, then we’ll play normally from there, how’s that sound?”

“You’re sure talkin’ yourself a big game there, son,” the Engineer observed, eyebrows raised.

“Damn right, I’ve been playin’ this shit since I was three,” Scout said, grinning wide. “This is gonna kick ass.”

-

Indeed, the first eight pitches went by in pretty rapid succession. Two because they fumbled and hesitated and miscommunicated in their pitching and couldn’t beat him to the bases, two after that as Scout scored home runs, another general fumble, another home run, one where the ball landed a few feet away from Spy who outright didn’t attempt to catch it, only kicking it closer to Medic as he rushed up to get it, and then one where Scout didn’t notice until he was back at home base that Soldier had unintentionally thrown the ball directly into the side of Pyro’s head (who was distracted by drawing shapes into the dirt at their feet).

They just barely managed to get him out on third, and then it was Demo’s turn.

Overall, by the first circuit through the whole team, they were surprised to find that they were actually having fun, even and especially with the odd shenanigans that ensued during the course of the game. There was one point where Soldier full-body tackled Demo at first base (just slightly confused about a few of the contact rules), and another where Sniper thought it would be funny to throw a hard ball of clay from at his feet, sending the team laughing as it exploded all over Pyro’s suit and they needed to stop to wipe the lenses on their mask clear. Demo surprised all of them with the first bunt of the game, and the Engineer with sending the ball soaring nearly into a homerun, with him sheepishly asking if using the Gunslinger to swing was allowed after he’d already run the bases. Then there was Pyro calmly stealing their way to third after the team thought their turn was over, and Heavy accidentally cracking the bat, and Medic absolutely eating shit as he tried to take off towards first. And nobody for sure knew how to react to the one time that Spy actually caught the ball, all but diving to catch it and send it to second just in time to get Soldier out. And of course, all of them were left just slightly in awe as Scout sent home run after home run sailing towards the stratosphere.

They finally had to stop when it was getting dark and Heavy informed them that they didn’t have any more baseballs left in the bucket for all the ones sent sailing far foul or off into the distance with a homerun. Soldier and Demo promised to go pick them up the following day and they all began their trudge back to base, covered in the bright orange loam of the desert and already slightly sore and feeling like they were in much higher spirits than any of them had expected. Scout, most of all, seemed... contented. Not just cheerful, not just bubbly, but contented, satisfied. Happy. He seemed so very happy.

Several of them, glancing around between themselves, considered telling Scout the truth, that they hadn’t put in nearly as much work as he thought they did. But most of them just settled in for saying happy birthday a few more times over assorted bottles of booze and maybe even a movie.

Sniper, for one, was a little fidgety on the way back to base. Halfway there, he took Scout by the shoulder, pulling him to slow down just a bit.

“Had, er,” Sniper said once they were a good few meters trailed behind the team, eyes averted. “Heavy said we were out, but. Had, er. Had one ball left.”

He pulled the baseball in question out of his pocket, unfolded it from the handkerchief it was in, passed it over, a little sheepish. Scout took it, confused, turning it over in his hands.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The rest of the team slowed and turned as they realized two of their party weren’t with them. Scout’s mouth was agape.

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD—“ Scout babbled suddenly, eyes widening, practically starting to vibrate in place. “—is this a real actual serious legitimate gen-u-ine real signature? Snipes please tell me you’re not fuckin’ around right now ohmyGOD.”

“Nah, yeah, from the actual bloke,” Sniper agreed, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yats-rem-key, something like?”

“Only just jersey number eight, left fielder for the Boston Red Sox, five-time All-Star four-time Gold Glove winner and three-time batting champion, Triple Crown winner and overall MVP in the entire American Major League of baseball, Carl Michael motherfuckin’ Yastrzemski!”

Sniper faltered under the sudden weight of the entirety of Scout as he was all but tackled in a hug, Scout continuing to babble excitedly on about the man whose signature was on the baseball in his hands. There was a general chuckle and rolling of eyes from the team as they watched the scene unfold.

“And we’re sure Sniper’s not the catcher, then?” Demo asked lightly, and with Sniper not there to elbow him, the Engineer took his place, making Demo snicker.

“If you would please cease embarrassing yourselves,” Spy called over after giving them a solid minute, which made Scout look up and apparently notice the entire team looking at them, flushing red and promptly trying to pretend he didn’t just do all that. “I believe that Heavy has prepared some kind of cake and I for one would rather not eat it after Pyro has covered it in candles and torched them all.”

Indeed, Pyro by then had a good head start on the team, who all hurried to catch up. And they all bumbled their way through at least five nationalities’ rendition of a Happy Birthday Song, and each very nearly got through their slice before the first scrap of the night began and the rest of it was lost in the mayhem, and overall, Scout would remark the next day through the haze of his hangover that actually, that was easily one of his favorite birthdays in a long time.

[slimy-moose]

:People I would Fight and Whether or Not I Would Win:

Simon Snow: 

Why? He was the chosen one and I just want to know what Baz found so appealing.

Would I Win? Absolutely not, I would try though.

Jon Kent:

Why? I just want to see if he’d hit me back.

Would I Win? This has three possible outcomes. 1. He doesn't hit me back and by default I win 2. He hits me back but only once and then again, I win by default. 3. He holds no qualms about hitting girls, and I get obliterated.

Severus Snape:

Why? He bullied an 11 year old because he couldn't get his dick wet and then stepped over her husband's body to cradle her corpse after she told him to stay far far away from her.

Would I Win? Depends, two outcomes. I'm short, I could slip under his weird robe and punch him in the nuts, then I win. But he could also hex me and I'm a filthy American and wouldn't know what to do if British man was yelling gibberish at me so I accidentally let him and I’d lose. 

Lamb:

Why? He flirted with Baz, knowing he was like 60 years older than him. I smell a pedo.

Would I Win? With his super human speed and strength, I’d lose but what do you tell your high class vampire friends when you come back with a ripped suit and a missing finger? (chompity) That you got jumped by a 5’3 14 year old from the south? No, he lies but we all know what really happened and he has to live that shame forever (literally). 

Sokka:

Why? I just want to try, but he wouldn't even hit me, as I haven’t committed a war crime (yet).

Would I Win?  If he were to actually fight me, I’d lose terribly but seeing as I’m not a criminal (to the extent of his knowledge) he’d try to talk it out and, by default, I’d win.

Zuko:

Why? I just want to say I did it.

Would I Win? This also has multiple outcomes. 1. If i catch him on a Bad Brain = Bad Thoughts day, he’d just let me hit him, thus, I win. 2. If I try to fight him at the Jasmine Dragon, Iroh steps in and they whip my ass together (family bonding <3) 3. If I try to get at this man while he's in his throne room, I get my ass beat by him plus the Royal Guards and I barely come out alive 4. I get him before the redemption when he has no qualms about murdering children, and I get whipped. 5. I meet him as an older gent and he tries to stop me and when I don't, he wipes the floor with me.

The Queen Of England: 

Why? She's so fucking old I need to see if one punch dusts her or if shes immortal.

Would I Win? Depends. 1. I shatter her frail old lady bones and win 2. Her royal guards catch me and throw me in bad boy jail 3. She turns out to be immortal and she Super-Sains me into a new dimension.

Kyle Jenner:

Why? Her shitty face wash and make up made me break out so I have a score to settle.

Would I Win? Yes. She's so used to being loved and famous, she wouldn't be prepared for me to leap out of the adoring crowd and try to rip her eyelashes out. Her bodyguards pull me off and I go to bad boy prison but she has to live with the fact she got her eyelashes ripped out by a southern 5’3 girl over her shitty face wash.

Stormy:

Why? She's so goddamn smug all the time and i just need to show her what the real world is like

Would I Win? She's like 4, so yeah

Dream:

Why? I just want to say I beat up a Minecraft World Record Speedrunner

Would I Win? Depends. 1. He doesn't hit girls so he picks me up and removes me from his presents, I lose, both the fight and my pride. 2. He doesn't hit girls and I win by default. 3. He holds no qualms on hitting girls and I lose terribly.

Technoblade:

Why? Pig man with God Complex, crippling self-hatred and a potato addiction needs to be hit by someone who is not on his same skill level.

Would I Win? Two outcomes. 1. Absolutely not and he wipes the floor with me. 2. His respect for lesbians is too high and he refuses to hit me, thus I win by default.

Eret:

Why? I just want to try

Would I Win? No, he's 6’5 and would just chuck me through a nearby wall

Sapnap:

Why? I just want to see if he’d hit me back

Would I Win? Absolutely not, he’d light me on fire

Richie Tozier:

Why? There's not really a reason, I just want to punch him very badly

Would I Win? Depends, he ruthlessly mocks me and i collapse in a fit of emotional abuse or I get the first hit in and goes out like a light

Donald J. Trump (The J stands for Jenuis/Jewish)

Why? He’s a racist, homophobic, Islamophobic Cheeto puff in a taupe

Would I Win? Abso-fucking-lutly. He's built like a ballsack and probably smells like one too.

Damian Wayne:

Why? He’s a CHILD with a God Complex whose (BF)F is an alien, he deserves it. He also isn't used to being hit by someone his own age so it'll  be good practice

Would I Win? Absolutely not, he turns me into a kabob and I do not survive 

Timothy Drake:

Why? Him and his marshmallow flavored coffee can catch these hands

Would I Win? He's 5’2 and 90 lbs. I take his coffee pot and he collapses within the hour from exhaustion. I win.

Adam Sandler:

Why? He has a very punchable face which is proven by all the movies his in where he gets punched in the face

Would I Win? No, he fights dirty and takes out my kneecaps the moment I look at him wrong

[wizardofrozz]

The Perfect Pair

Warnings: swearing, angst, mention of violence (please let me know if I miss something!)

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: There’s a good chance I’ll post the next chapter too today 😊 *Character’s thoughts are in italics*

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 2: Mutual Goals

(Violet POV)

I woke with a start, panting as I looked around the room. I sighed when I remembered I snagged a room in Knowhere to sleep for the night after my encounter with that pain in the ass God. I tried to shake away the dream of him as I sat up in bed, but his irritatingly handsome face still lingered in my head. I pulled the blankets off my legs to slid out of bed, grabbing a robe and wandering over to the bathroom, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I walked into the bathroom, realizing there was another door on the opposite side. Hm must be a shared bathroom. I shrugged, hoping the other person would stay out for 5 minutes, and as if jinxing myself, the other door opened.             “Oh, you’re fucking kidding me!” I yelled, my head falling back. His eyes opened wider, any trace of sleep gone now, as the reality of the situation hit him.             “What are you doing here?” his eyes raking down my body. I crossed my arms, hiding the fact that I didn’t have a bra on under the robe I found. Loki shifted uncomfortably across the bathroom, shaking his legs slightly.             “I tried to get some sleep; what are you doing here?” I spat back at him.             “The same thing,” he raised an eyebrow.             “What are you doing in Knowhere?” I narrowed my eyes at him.             “Running an errand so I can move onto the next stage of my plan,” Loki said in a very nonchalant tone, leaning against the sink.             “Oh, and what would that be,” I said as I climbed to sit on the sink. I watched Loki’s eyes travel up my legs before he quickly locked eyes with me again.             “Rule Earth,” he smirked, his eyes sparkling.             “I’m coming,” I clapped my hands together, climbing off the sink.             “Did I miss the invitation you think I offered?” Loki asked, irritated.             “Oh no, but it lines up with my plans. I need a way there, so I’ll pledge to help with whatever gets me there,” I smiled over my shoulder. “When are you leaving?” I yelled from my room, sliding my leather suit up to my waist and dropping the robe to the floor.             “I didn’t agree-” Loki broke off. I turned around, still naked from the waist up, to find him standing in my doorway; his eyes widened as they traveled to my bare chest.             “Change your mind?” I snickered.             “Uh…I,” Loki stuttered. I broke his trance by pulling my sports bra over my head; his eyes snapped up to mine, watching me.             “Come on; maybe I’ll even sleep with you,” I winked, but his expression hardened.             “Sex won’t always get you want, whore,” he spat at me.             “That stings,” I overplayed the hurt before my face fell into a bored expression. “I don’t use sex for anything; I’m powerful enough that I don’t need to. I thought maybe if I offered a little reward for bringing me along, you might change your mind,” I smirked.             “And why would you think that’s the reward I’d want,” he narrowed his eyes, anger radiating off him.             “Your boner gives you away.” I nodded my head towards the bulge in his pants before pulling up the rest of my jump suit. Loki’s eyes widen, and his mouth fell open as he used both hands to cover himself, a bright blush creeping over his cheeks.             “Fine, I will not hesitate to kill you if you get in my way,” Loki said flatly.             “Gods, will you just decide. Do you want to kill me or fuck me? I can’t tell anymore,” I threw my arms up, turning my back to him.             “Both,” he finally said, walking back into the bathroom towards his room.                                                 /// 6 months later I followed the green cape down a damp cave, kicking rocks out of my way as I went.             “Are we almost there?” I groaned.             “Shut up,” Loki said over his shoulder, irritation lacing his voice.             “Bitch,” I spit out, but he ignored me. All of these errands were wearing my patience thin; Loki finally got the scepter he was pinning after, but we still haven’t made our way to New York yet. Nevertheless, the past six months haven’t been that bad; Loki sometimes can be warm and let it slip that he’s not entirely cold-hearted. *** I ordered Loki and me a drink from the bar, hoping to loosen him up.             “What is this?” he sniffed the drink, raising an eyebrow at me.             “Asgardian liquor, somehow they had it,” I smiled, taking a sip.             “Hm, the black market probably,” Loki took a sip of his drink and sighed. After at least three drinks, Loki and I started to feel the effects of the alcohol.             “What’s your favorite animal?” I giggled.             “Snakes,” Loki raised an eyebrow before snickering a little. “Reminds me of a time I played a prank on Thor. I turned myself into a snake because he loves them too, he picked me up, and I turned back into myself and stabbed him,” Loki laughed, honestly laughed. I was taken back by how much I enjoyed hearing it and how my chest tightened when he smiled. I laughed at the story Loki told me, just imagining Loki as a kid stabbing his brother.             “I miss my snake,” I finally said. “She was beautiful,” I sighed.             “What happened to her,” Loki cocked his head to the side.             “My father killed her,” my nostrils flared at the memory.             “Should’ve killed him instead,” Loki muttered, and I snorted. Loki kept telling me stories as we drank, opening up more and more as the alcohol flowed; I was surprised at how much we had in common and how easy it was to talk with him. We finally wrapped up the night, realizing I had way too much to drink; I stumbled a little as we made our way towards the rooms we rented. “You okay?” Loki’s brows pulled together, what seemed like concern on his face.             “A little too drunk,” I giggled, stumbling again. Loki instinctively reached out to grab me; after a few seconds he huffed, but picked me up, bridal style, and carried me the rest of the way. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat; he started humming quietly as he walked. I listened to the lullaby I remembered from my childhood and drifted off to sleep. ***  I momentarily smiled at the memory, but it lasted only a second when the irritated around this trek through the dark cave came back; I grumbled to myself, willing this fucking trip to end. I happened to notice a small pool not far in front of us; as we got closer, Loki stopped walking, holding his arm out, assuming I wasn’t paying attention. He was right; his arm slammed into my chest, stopping me before I walked into the pool.             “Will you ever learn?” Loki tried to hide his smirk.             “Unlikely,” I shrugged; he rolled his eyes but left it at that. Loki’s eyes fell shut as he concentrated on the pool in front of him; the small pool took on a slight green tint before Loki pulled his magic away.             “Let’s go,” Loki said, turning around.             “Where?” I looked back and forth between Loki and the pool.             “The room,” he looked over his shoulder, confused.             “What the fuck did we trek up here for! To waste our fucking time!” I yelled at him. Before I could react, Loki had me slammed up against the wall, his hand around my throat, his face inches from mine; I couldn’t help but squeeze my legs together when warmth started to grow between them.             “Watch your tongue, pet,” Loki barked at me.             “Make me,” I growled before spitting in his face.             “Oh darling, don’t tempt me.” A wicked look crossed his face as he wiped my spit off his cheek. For a split second, I thought I had finally gone too far, and he was going to kill me, so I figured I might as well make it worthwhile.             “At this point, I’d rather you kill me. Has to better than wandering around like an idiot because you can’t trust me enough to tell me anything!” I yelled in his face.             “Hm, I don’t think I will. I think the torture of the situation is much better,” Loki’s smile was downright terrifying, but I was too angry with him to care.             “Gods, I fucking hate you,” I spat at him. I tried to kick him in the nuts, but he closed his legs, only he wasn’t fast enough; my shin still hit them enough to get a reaction from him. His expression took on a different look that I couldn’t place; pain but something else too.             “You’ll be very sorry for that little one,” Loki’s voice was husky, rough.             “Aw, do you need me to rub them?” I mocked him. I reached down without him noticing and grabbed his balls hard enough that he sucked in a breath, and I saw discomfort in the lines of his face. I was sure he was going to kill me now, but his expression changed when I loosened the grip on him, my hand still hovering close; I watched his pupils grow, pushing out the bright green color of his eyes. Was his face even closer than before? “Loki?” I let out a strangled groan. He snapped out of his trance, blinking a few times before letting go of my throat, letting me fall to the floor; he stepped away from me and walked towards the way we came. “Don’t worry; I’m fine down here. I’ll get up myself,” I mumbled.             “Here,” he rolled his eyes but reached out to help me up. He didn’t step back when he helped me to my feet, so I was chest to chest with him when I stood up. I looked up, locking eyes with him, realizing how close our lips were. “Vi?” Loki whispered the nickname he used for me.             “Grow a pair and kiss me, for fucks sake,” I whispered harshly. My wish was his command; his lips crashed into mine, hard and urgent. My hand was still engulfed in his between us, holding me close; his free hand moved to the back of my neck, clamping down hard, holding me there. Our mouths moved together, our tongues dancing; I couldn’t hold back the moan that left my mouth. Loki responded with a slightly louder moan into my mouth. His mouth moving against mine sparked a strange feeling throughout my body; my skin felt too warm, too tight but at the same time perfect. Loki ripped his hand away from mine before pushing me back into the wall, his body holding me against the rocks, a bulge growing in his pants; I ran my hands up his chest, wishing he were wearing less. His hand moved from the back of my neck back around to my throat again, holding me against the wall; I bit his lip as I pulled away from his intoxicating kiss.             “Fuck,” Loki groaned, a shiver running through him.             “Loki,” I whispered, waiting for him to look at me.             “We should go,” he said, letting me go again, walking away.             “What the fuck?” I threw my hands up but begrudgingly followed. “Seriously, Loki, what the fuck was that!” I pointed back at the spot where we were just standing, but he ignored me. “Loki!” I yelled this time.             “Why aren’t you scared of me!” Loki turned abruptly, screaming in my face. I could tell he was hoping I cringed, but I stood in front of him with a blank expression.             “Why do you care about me?” I shot back, catching him off guard. He physically stumbled back at my words, not expecting me to say that. “I don’t know why I’m not scared of you. Maybe I welcome death. Kill me; it won’t make a difference. Or I just have no fear,” I kept my eyes locked on him the whole time.             “I don’t care for you,” he finally said, and I laughed at him.             “Could’ve fooled me,” I continued laughing, walking past him, back towards the entrance to the cave.             “What does that mean!” he yelled as he tried to catch up.             “Forget it, Loki,” I waved him off, continuing to walk out of the cave, listening to his footsteps behind me.

_____________________________________________________________

Series Masterlist | Chapter 3

Taglist: 

@criminalyetminimal​ @kendallthesimp​ @marvelfansworld​ 

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Good day to you, would like to offer some oil for the fire:

Master Kohga summoning his clone and then both of them going down on Sooga

Oooh that’s actually some BIG brained stuff right there? Let’s go???

Sooga was such a prude. Sure, he’d do kinky shit with him occasionally, and he’s had pervy dreams, but for someone with THAT fine of a body, he did almost nothing with it. By which Kohga meant; Sooga would NOT do threesomes with him. Now don’t get Kohga wrong, no meant no, but Kohga knew Sooga would LOVE getting railed by two dudes at once. He had the body, the stamina, the desire for it. But everytime Kohga chatted someone up, it was always ‘they aren’t worthy enough to touch you’ or ‘I will not take away any attention from you like this’. And while it was sweet, it was lame. Kohga wanted Sooga to get plowed while someone hit it from the back, or someone to make out with him while he bounced on his cock. Just SOMETHING to spice things up. Thankfully, clever Kohga had just the idea. Something that Sooga couldn’t at all say no to.

“You summoned me, Master Kohga?”

“Yes, Sooga, get in here! Lock the door!”

Sooga obeyed, and upon being prompted, sat down in front of Kohga.

“Your summon sounded important.”

“It is! I feel like showing you one of my famous techniques today!”

That had Sooga’s attention. Here was a fun piece of trivia; Sooga learned MANY of his abilities from Master Kohga one on one training. Sooga’s binding attack was taught to him by Kohga, and he had since perfected the very rare gift. Every member of the Yiga was capable of unique, special abilities, if they are deemed worthy to be taught as such by Kohga, and only Kohga. It was why Sooga would never turn down the opportunity to see more of Kohga’s incredible skills. Sooga gave a bow of his head, eager.

“I am very honored, Master Kohga. Please, show me.”

Kohga nodded, keeping his palms flat, and pressed together.

“Now, watch. The order of the hands is super important, as well as the speed. I’m going to show you how to do it properly, then we’ll do it step by step after. Watch.”

Kohga moved his hands quickly, forming them in all kinds of poses and patterns. Then, out of thin air, his clone appeared. It was a trick he had seen many times, but to see the actual process astounded Sooga to no end. Sooga stared at the clone with fascination, almost doing a double take between the both of them.

“It’s incredible, truly, Master Kohga. I almost can’t tell the difference.”

“Well I mean, I’m the handsome one, but yeah I see what you mean. Pulled this trick on my mother when I was a kid, nearly killed her.”

“You did this when you were but a child?”

Kohga always loved how easy it was, impressing Sooga. He shrugged, letting Sooga poke and prod at the clone, who seemed to just sit there.

“You did THIS? As a CHILD?”

“Yeah, but it was a pretty spotty clone back then. Not stable, only lasted for a few seconds. Now, he stays until I make him leave.”

“That’s incredible. Is his...face, your face?”

“Yep, lips and all, watch!”

Kohga’s clone (which we may refer to as Kohga2) lifted his mask up a bit, and leaned forward to kiss him. It was a small peck at first, just enough for Sooga to lightly nod his head.

“It...IS like you. How-”

Then the clone kissed him again. And again. Sooga seemed to have no protests, kissing the clone in return, before he pulled away, clearing his throat.

“It’s...quite like you. Very...physical.”

Kohga chuckled. Sooga was trying to be appropriate, but Kohga could see it in his body; he liked the idea of this Kohga touching him. He wanted more, it was obvious. Kohga just needed to give him a little bit of a push.

“He is, he really is. He can do all kinds of stuff. He sometimes copies me, sometimes he acts on his own."

"That's...not dangerous?"

"Not really? He just does things that I'd personally do."

Kohga2 seemed to take the hint, crawling over to Sooga and burying his face in his neck. Sooga wanted to push him away, clearly wanting to be professional, but Kohga2 seemed to know just the spot, making him sit back, and make Sooga just SQUIRM.

"M-master Kohga, I uhm, do believe he's getting rather fri-fuck."

That 'fuck' at the end was so honest, so lust fueled, it made Kohga chuckle. He always did like nibbles to his ear lobe. Nice, slow, even a little bit of pulling, just to drive him nuts. Kohga chuckled, leaning over to cup the slight bulge in his suit. Sooga was trying not to like this, but with the way Kohga2's hands were wandering and roaming, it was hard to deny he was liking this. Kohga chuckled, ever so slowly massaging his bulge. Sooga kept trying to push Kohga2 off of him, but his effort was so half assed, it was adorable.

"Pretty neat, eh? Only thing better than me, is TWO of me. Don't you agree, Sooga?"

"Y-yes, but you were just trying to show me some techniq-"

He was silenced yet again by that weak spot on his ear, actually making him shake a little. Kohga got up, and stood next to Sooga’s face, starting to un do his hair. One Kohga was enough to make Sooga weak, but two? Was enough to just make him submissive.

"Easy. I just wanna show you how talented I am."

Kohga2 nibbled at his ear some more, while Kohga ran his fingers through his scalp, occasionally grabbing fistfulls of that long, pretty hair. Sooga was silent for a moment, clearly absorbed in the feeling of slow, loving treatment. He seemed to find his words after a moment, lightly shaking his head.

“I uhm...this is odd. Very odd display of-”

A little pull of his hair was all it took to shut his pretty face up. Kohga un did his clothes a bit, pulling out his cock. They just started, but he was honestly SO excited about Sooga getting touched by someone, that he was already super hard. He pulled his hair again, prompting Sooga to open his mouth, just enough for him to push his cock through. Sooga didn’t hesitate, sucking and groaning as Kohga slowly pushed his cock back and forth into his mouth.

“That’s it. You remembered to use a little teeth this time, just how I like it. Good, good boy.”

Kohga2 seemed to grow bored of his actions, especially since Kohga seemed to be hogging that nice face of his. So he got off of him, in order to scoot down to his crotch, grinding against Sooga’s hard on. It made him groan against Kohga’s girth, and damn did it drive Kohga crazy. Sooga was handling being shared like a dream, just how he thought it would. Kohga pulled himself out of his mouth, just to watch drool dribble down Sooga’s lips.

“Look at you. You LIKE being shared, don’t you? Like having two people with their hands on you?”

Sooga didn’t want to answer. He clearly didn’t like the idea of a threeway, despite the fact that he was grinding himself in sync to Kohga2’s movements. Kohga cupped his face in his hand, being serious for just a second (he hated doing this, but it was the top’s job to take care of their bottoms).

“Why are you so against this? You LIKE being touched, I can tell. You’re into getting felt up and groped. Why are you so hesitant?”

Sooga tried to think amongst his hazy lust, and finally seemed to muster something.

“I just, don’t want you to think I belong to someone else. Don’t want you to think someone could take me away from you.”

Oh what an absolute sap. Kohga rolled his eyes, lightly pinching his cheeks.

“Soogy...you idiot. I was NEVER worried about that, ever. I want people to see you because I’m proud to call you mine. No one could take you away from me. You could even try to leave me, and I wouldn’t give you up. You body’s mine, remember?”

Kohga’s hand moved from his cheeks, to his throat, having a nice, good grip. He could watch the lust in his eyes. He wanted to get just FUCKED, and Kohga was happy to oblige. Kohga motioned for his clone to switch him, and Kohga2 seemed happy to stuff his cock in Sooga’s mouth, though he was far more greedy, nearly smothering Sooga’s face with all he had. Kohga meanwhile, worried about slipping those clothes off, finally getting to that nice, tight ass, and those long, strong legs. After making sure Sooga was ready (he didn’t need much prepping, but one couldn’t be too careful), he threw those legs over his shoulder, and didn’t hesitate to pound into that ass. Kohga’s grips on his thighs were nice and firm, keeping him in place as his cock not only stretched his ass, but hit right up against that prostate of his. Kohga2 didn’t seem to be nice either, holding onto his hair as he fucked his face, only stopping here and there for Sooga to gag around him. You think this would be too much for one man. You’d be wrong.

Sooga accepted both of them eagerly, even pumping his cock to help push himself further (not to mention giving them both quite a show) to orgasm. Not that he was being selfish. He kept his other hand on Kohga2’s ass, as if he was begging not to let him go. Not to mention he was pushing himself against Kohga’s thrusts, really making sure he got deep into that ass. Kohga chuckled, loving just how messy his boy was. Sweaty, soaked in his own drool.

“You like being a messy boy, don’t you Sooga? You like a nice, juicy cock to drool over? You like that same cock fucking you right in your ass? It good enough for you to cum already? Huh? You gonna cum like a good boy?”

Sooga of course couldn’t respond, but he could tell he was listening. The way he started to quicken the pace of his hand, the way his precum started to get slick all over his eager hands. Kohga expected him to cum as quickly as he did, getting a hot load of cum on his stomach. It was a nice sight, watching all that cum decorating his eager, totally built body. Kohga was going to finish in that ass, when he realized; he really didn’t want to forget this moment. He pulled himself out, making Kohga2 do the same. Sooga whimpered, not just from the fresh orgasm, but from the fact that he wasn’t gifted any of theirs. Kohga pointed to the floor, and Sooga obeyed, although a bit clumsily. He looked confused, before he felt both their cocks upon his face, observing them as they quickly touched themselves.

“Open nice and wide. You want it, don’t you?”

Sooga didn’t have any shame in opening his mouth nice and wide, nearly begging like a dog for scraps. He didn’t have to wait long. WIthin a few moments, they both came, shooting hot loads on his mask, his chin, and all over his tongue. He watched as Sooga panted, nealy fawning over how much cum he was decorated in. Kohga grabbed the data pad from the nightstand, chuckling.

“Say cheese, pretty boy.”

Then he snapped a nice, pretty picture. Ooh, this was a keeper. He looked it over, snapping his fingers, and making Kohga2 disappear. 

“Mmm. You look SO good in this one. Nice and pretty. So, this mean threesomes are on the table?”

Sooga closed his mouth, swallowing the load, just like always.

“I...suppose it depends. It sounds like you have someone in mind.”

“How about Link?”

“....maybe.”

“That's My Soogy Woogy~”