#god knows where this would be in nyc or…. could it be somewhere else

[chimeofthecomet]

swappin’ tales around the fire

an hd png as i know the gif will get crunched beyond recognition

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 2

link to first post

Masterpost

(the one where Peter Parker wakes up post-snap in a LoA lazarus experiment)

It was New York City. Peter thanked his blessings and the transportation gods. He didn't wait for the train to stop because he was kind of afraid that it wouldn't and he'd get carried somewhere else.

If he'd been a regular teen, it would have been like, super dangerous to jump off of the top of a moving train and land on cement. Peter rolled like he'd been taught and came up safe. He shook his wrists a little as he straightened and tried to figure out where he was exactly.

Okay. Operation solo hero was a go. Here he was, in NYC. He didn't have any help. But he was Spiderman. Peter tried not to feel discouraged about losing all his tech, his friends, and his mentors. He could remake his web shooters and a suit. He needed access to materials, but he could do it. His first formula had been made in a school lab. 

'But I wasn't homeless and undocumented then.' 

Oof, that felt bad. 

'Can I even keep my name? I can't exactly go to Midtown and tell them to make Peter Parker plural.' 

Yikes. That was a whole lot of yikes.

Well. One problem at a time, right? He needed to get himself into a more stable position for survival first. Now that he knew where he was, he could change his strategy from calling for help to becoming self-sufficient. 

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. The first thing that came to mind was that he needed more clothes. Even if he had liked this outfit, he definitely needed more than one set. This was gross. And honestly? He was kinda cold. And he was increasingly uncomfortable about not wearing underwear.

'I don't have any money and I can't borrow some. I can't steal from anyone. What can I do?' 

Peter racked his brains. Go through the donation bins for a thrift store? That seemed wrong. But … stores throw things away. 

'Department stores get new things all the time. They must be throwing away old clothes. If I check their dumpsters, I bet I'll find something.' 

With a plan in mind, Peter made his way to the closest big store he knew about. Even though he was stranded, at least he was in his city. New York City was way more comforting than Metropolis had been. He navigated by memory to a store he knew called- 

Huh. The store was where he thought it would be, but it had a different name. Peter quietly read it aloud, wondering if this place would have the same bland, safe fashion as where he'd meant to go.

Well. There was only one way to find out, and it wasn't by going inside. They were locked up for the night anyway.

He found the dumpsters. Peter braced himself for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

He didn't feel good about this. He didn't. Not morally- if it had been thrown away, it didn't belong to anyone– but looking at the outside of a dumpster really hammered in the desperation he was in. He was poor. He had nothing and he had no one.

Peter shook that off. "That's not true," he told himself. Hearing a human voice, even his own, helped a bit. "I have a great sense of humor and a positive outlook." 

Still, uh, he was ready for a lifestyle that included underwear. He carefully lifted the lid and rested it against the wall so that it didn't make any noise. Then he hopped up onto the rim and squinted into the bin.

There were big plastic bags full of fabric. His first impulse was to tear them open and look, but he refrained. It would make a mess for the garbage workers. Instead he painstakingly untied the string at the top and opened a bag. Then he pulled clothes out one piece at a time and examined them. 

His heart fell. He'd been right. These were all perfectly good, unused clothes with the tags still on them, so he could even sort by size. But someone had taken scissors to them all before throwing them out. Peter held up a t shirt and squinted at it. It wasn't that bad, really. They hadn't been super thorough. This one had kind of a snip through the middle. 

…it wasn't like he didn't know how to sew.  He'd done lots of repairs that way, and even made a Halloween costume one year. 

If he just stitched that up it would be kinda obviously repaired. That was okay, but Peter dug around until he found another T shirt in a different color. It was hard to tell in the darkness but he was pretty sure it was blue. It had a similar cut. 

"Okay," he planned aloud. "I cut them fully apart, even out the edge, and then sew them together so it looks like being bi colored is a fashion decision." 

He dug around for a couple more shirts, trying to get four different colors that in the daylight he could hopefully mix and match. Then he shoved everything back in that bag and tied it up. He hung his haul over the edge of the dumpster and started opening bags on a hunt for jeans. A pair of jeans and a pair of sweatpants was basically all the wardrobe a teenaged boy needed, anyway.

It took four bags until he found some, and they were too big. But the next bag under that had his size range. These had been snipped too, but Peter huffed a laugh. So what? Lots of jeans had tears in them as a style choice. He dug out two pairs and wiggled into them one after the other to check the fit. It was a relief to have his legs covered. They were kinda long but he was expecting a growth spurt any day now, so that was great. He was pretty sure one was black and one was blue, so that was a good variety.

He wanted underwear and socks. Maybe a heavier coat, if they had one. He searched and searched and came up with nothing. He did find a shoulder-strapped canvas bag that had probably been returned- there was a subtle stain on the inside. Peter would have preferred a backpack, but he shoved the clothes inside the bag anyway. This was a lot better than just walking around holding a handful of fabric. He put the little bag from the guy’s locker inside of it. He still hadn't even looked at what was in it.

Still. He stared mournfully at the clothes. No underwear, really? He was willing to compromise on socks, but underwear and shoes that fit were a big deal. 

"I guess they don't need to seasonally change those so much." Peter sighed to himself. "Wait- no. That can't be right. For socks maybe but shoes? They must throw out a ton of shoes." 

Just not today, apparently. 

Disappointed, he closed the dumpster back up and adjusted his haul over his shoulder. He left without looking back. He was already churning through possible solutions for his outstanding problems. Socks, shoes, underwear, and a sewing kit so that he could use his changes of shirts. 

'Fancy hotels have those little repair kits as part of the free goodies.'

Oh, man. Peter steeled himself for social embarrassment. He was going to have to wander in and out of hotel lobbies by himself, take a repair kit, and leave. 

'Maybe they'll think I'm a guest,' he thought hopefully. 'I don't look that bad. I look kinda like I'm going to school or traveling light.' 

Oh. That was an idea. 

'Lots of hotels have free breakfasts. I could just walk in, eat, and leave. Even if the desk staff thinks I'm probably not a guest, they probably won't say anything.'

It seemed kinda wrong. But it was a buffet. Leftovers were going to get thrown away. And he only had to wait until the morning.

Peter tabled the idea for later. It was going to depend on just how hungry he got. He was already really hungry, if he was honest about it. Whatever bodily numbness he'd gotten from the green jello stank tank had worn off.

'I'm going to get too hungry to manage before too long even if I have a huge breakfast every day. I’m used to running on a lot of calories. What would happen to my ability to be Spiderman if I can’t eat enough?'

He shoved the realistic part of him down and tried not to feel discouraged by his demanding metabolism. 

Focus. The first thing was fixing the clothes. 

'No,' grumbled a mental voice he knew he should recognize. It was coming through a fog of distortion. Shelter is first, Spiderman. Shelter, water, food, and then supplies like clothes.' 

He frowned and rubbed at his temples. He didn't know how to solve that problem. It seemed more practical to address the problems that he knew how to fix first. 

Well. A hotel buffet would probably have drinks as well, but they wouldn't be open for a while. He didn't know what time it was but it was actually night. 

At least he had a tentative plan for it. 

Peter steeled himself for embarrassment and started looking for hotels. The first one he found was too fancy- the amenities weren't placed in the lobby. He walked in and his attention was immediately caught by the soft golden gleam of a bell on the reception desk. It was under a strategic light.

'This one won't be good for breakfast either, there's nowhere for a buffet,' Peter noted. Thankfully, no one was waiting at the desk. He walked back out and realized that would probably be the case for most places at this time of night. 

He felt better going into the next hotel. This one had amenities out, but not a sewing kit. Peter took a toothbrush, two of the packets of wash products, and a cheap razor. Maybe this would be the time his facial hair started to come in and he'd need to shave. 

'I really need a wash,' he noted, not for the first time. 'So bad.' 

The green stuff didn't smell …too bad when dry. It definitely didn't smell as sour as it had tasted. But his skin itched and his hair was crunchy. 

The third hotel was the winner. He had the idea to look for a cheaper hotel aimed at business class travelers. It had free wifi, what was definitely going to be a breakfast buffet from 5:00 am, and it had the sewing kit that he needed. Peter took one gratefully, wondered if it would have enough string, and then took a second kit just in case. 

Okay. Next priority was getting clean. That would double up with getting water- now that he'd thought about it, Peter was thirsty enough to drink shower water from the faucet. 

He looked for a gym. He found a fashionable 24 hour one and dismissed it. Entrance was clearly only by key cards there. He needed someplace older. At least this was his city. He could guess the general area that would have what he wanted. Peter walked around until he found one and wiggled his way up to the third floor, heaved open a window, and went in search of a shower. 

"Good thing I grabbed this," Peter said, stripping all of his clothes and palming one of the tear-open packets of individual soap and shampoo. There was absolutely nothing in the shower in terms of amenities. Gym patrons probably brought their own stuff. 

He took the longest shower of his life, wished he had a washcloth or two, and ended up using both packets of soap to get his body clean enough. Then he hauled his clothes in, all of them, and washed them as best as he could using what was left of the shampoo. He wrung them all out and then put on his new jeans, totally damp. It didn't feel great on his skin. But at least it was clean. For now, he put on one of the black t-shirts. He'd apparently managed to grab two in black, one in red, and one in blue. This t-shirt had a v- shaped cut on the stomach, but he pulled the brown jacket over and zipped it up enough that it didn't show. It was all damp and very weird, but they'd dry quickly on him since he was moving around, right?

When he looked at himself in the mirror, Peter looked like himself. Sure, he was damp and messy haired. But he was clean! He shot himself a thumbs up. 

He left the rest of the clothes hanging to dry and wandered the gym. It was eerie but also really interesting. He'd never spent much time in an actual gym. 

That might be a cool hobby to take up. If nothing else, he could maybe find some classes. 

Oh! A clock. Peter squinted at it in the dark. It was 3:42 AM. It wasn't actually that long until the hotel breakfast bar opened, then. He'd been walking around all night.

'I need a way to tell time on my own. There's not that many clocks in public.'

The first thing that he came back to when he thought of his problems was money. Money, money, money. He needed it. And he needed ID- did the ID come before the money, or the other way around? He needed tech to be Spiderman and to live in general– man, it was weird to be without a phone– so, how? 

His first thought was to go to school and use the laptops there. But he wasn't a student. That would probably freak people out- or worse, draw attention to him. Was it more illegal to exist without documentation, or to be a minor who wasn't in school? 

Peter shuddered. Yeah, no high schools. 

But a public library? That had potential. The computers were always pretty old but they were free to use. 

That was most of an itinerary for the day, then, he realized. It made him feel better to have a plan. He was going to wait a while for his clothes to dry (should he point the blow dryer at them?), and shove them in his bag. He'd go back to the business hotel for breakfast and probably more soap, then go to the library. 

'I need to eat a lot at that buffet.' 

His stomach rumbled in agreement. Oh man, this was kinda bad. He had no idea how to get another meal today. 

Well. He could look into it when he was at the library. 

He ended up turning the blow dryer on his clothes to get them dry. They didn't seem any dryer than they'd been when he wrung them out. That made for a tense hour of pointing the little machine while his arm got tired and he kept jumping at sounds that might be someone coming to open up the gym. 

Stupid, Peter chastised himself. Of course a couple hours in a humid room wasn't enough to dry anything. They'd get moldy first. 

He got them dry enough to fold up and put in his canvas bag, and then he went out by the same window that he'd come in. 

'I hope they don't start locking that. If I don't have a place to stay soon, I'm gonna really need these showers.'

It didn't take him long to get back to the business hotel. It was somewhere between 5 and 6, which meant that the buffet was fully out but not busy. Peter walked in and beelined to the food, trying desperately to look like he belonged.  

Nutritionally, it was pretty good considering the circumstances. Peter grabbed an apple and a banana from the fruit bowl and got a glass of milk as well as orange juice. He wasn't going to get scurvy, at least! 

Glass containers had a selection of baked goods that honestly all just looked okay. He picked out a couple of plain rolls and then something that had walnuts in it. For protein, his options were some queasy looking sausages and a tray of scarily yellow scrambled eggs. He took a generous portion of both and finally started eating.

Whoa. As soon as he'd had a few bites, it was like the dial turned up on his hunger. Peter ate at record speed and caught himself looking back at the buffet.

No one was looking. There was only one other person in the buffet area, a young woman staring grimly into a cup of coffee and using her phone. The receptionist wasn't paying attention at all.

Peter felt worse, somehow, about going back for seconds than he had about coming here in the first place. But he was too hungry for shame. He grabbed two bagels and toasted them at the same time and stuffed his pockets with cream cheese packets. 

'I could take a bit of this with me. A roll or two and maybe a banana? Ugh, it's weird, but the cream cheese has protein in it…' 

He put another couple of packets in his pocket. No one was going to count and realize he was taking two of them out the door. 

While he waited for the bagels to toast he refilled his drinks and added a coffee and an apple juice. He felt ridiculous with four drinks, so he drained the milk and put the empty cup in the clean up bin. 

He filled a second plate of sausages and scrambled eggs (they weren't that bad) and piled the bagels on it as soon as they popped up. 

Once he'd eaten his second serving, Peter felt a lot more human. 

He also felt exhausted. Like, he was beyond tired. 

'I didn't sleep at all so that figures. And I don't have any idea where I can sleep today. So… maybe one more coffee while I wait for the food to give me energy I can use?'

He couldn't quite stand the idea of gulping down all that liquid right then. It seemed like a good time to see what was in the little bag he'd gotten from the probably evil scientist's locker.

'The guy worked somewhere that stores human bodies in rancid green jello. If he's not an evil scientist, it's only because he's an evil janitor or receptionist or something.'

That… It wasn't ideal but it made him feel a little better and a little braver. 

The instant he unzipped the little bag, Peter realized that the guy basically had his whole life in the bag. That included a phone, which was either turned off or dead.

"Whoops," he muttered. He considered turning it on but paused. Would that be safe? He might need it. But what if someone realized it had been stolen and tracked it?

He left it alone for now and looked at the wallet.

The first thing was a Metro City transit card. Peter looked at it and put it back in place. There were a couple more cards- credit or debit, an expired gift card, membership cards to three different pizza places and a gym, and an ID. Peter glanced around guiltily to be sure no one was looking before he checked the name and photo.

Richard DeWitt was blonde, apparently 5ft 10 inches, and 170 lbs. He had a lopsided smile and dead eyes in his photo. Brown eyes. 

DeWitt was 37- no, Peter corrected internally. He grimaced. He was 5 years in the past, so DeWitt was only 32. One of the ID cards was for work, which was a goldmine. Or it could have been, if the company name had been written instead of the initialism LOA.

Better than nothing, at least. He memorized the letters and logo.

The debit and credit cards were no good to him. Peter made a mental note to destroy them later, so that no one else could pull them out of the garbage and use them later. 

He paused for a long moment over the cash. He felt like a spotlight was about to shine down on him and an announcer would call him a thief. But he counted it: 87 dollars. That wasn’t Tony Stark money, but there were a lot of problems it could solve for him.

'The money isn't the same as back home.'

His eye caught on the one dollar bills. He picked them out of the pile to look at them more closely, like an inspection was going to make them change.

Assuming DeWitt didn't have fake currency on him, the US dollar was different.

Peter stopped. He belatedly processed that.

There was no way in a million years that the picture on the dollar had changed in the last five years. It had always been the same guy. 

But here it was, unmistakably a US dollar with a man Peter didn't know printed in the center.

That changed things. 

'I"m not on my earth, unless this is a hallucination. Where else could I be!?' 

He would like to stop having paradigm changing realizations, any day now. 

The only thing that kept him from having a total nervous breakdown was that he was in public. Sort of. There was no one directly looking at him, but that would probably change if he went into the fetal position and started wheezing.

This was bad. This was really, really, bad, actually. 

He needed to go back to the drawing board. For all he knew, there was no Peter Parker here, no Tony Stark, no one he could go to for help.

And the people who had kidnapped him-

Oh, hell. They could be anybody for all he knew. Heck, what if that was a government thing? If they didn’t even have the same presidents, he couldn’t assume this was the same country, in a sense.

‘I need to look into that, as soon as possible. What if I’ve got the universe equivalent of like, HYDRA or something looking for me? That would be a bad surprise.’

He had the address of that building, at least, and the name of an employee. That was something to go off of. 

Peter forced himself to exhale long and slow. He picked up his mess. He didn’t finish going through the guy’s wallet but he didn’t have the nerves for it right now. He stuffed it back into his satchel and left with a nod at the desk clerk. 

He needed information, and that meant the library was even more urgent. It was the only way he knew to access the internet.

The walk wasn’t too bad. His nerves were a knot in his throat as Peter crossed morning traffic on what had to be a weekday, but his memory of NYC didn’t lead him wrong. He bounded up the stone steps to a big library two at a time, shot a queasy smile at the man behind the desk, and ducked his head as he walked in and did a little tour of the place.

There were three floors. The first floor had a dedicated computer lab for students, and long desk with four computers for public use. Near it there was a little table with pitchers of coffee, water, and paper cups with a sign encouraging free usage. There was also a reading corner, a collection of tables for quiet group projects, and rows of media like DVDs. Wow, so old. Peter marveled at that on his way up the stairs. There was a huge papier-maché wolf on the stairwell for unknown reasons. He patted it on the head as he passed. 

The second floor had that intense library smell to it and a lot of signs strictly enforcing absolute quiet. He craned to see tall rows upon rows with labels like science and law, as well as a sign for reserved meeting rooms and bathrooms. The third floor was apparently mostly for group collaboration. Each table had a sign begging people not to bring in outside food and to leave their drinks on the table. Peter glanced over to the only table that had someone at it already, spied her huge coffee cup, and suppressed a snort. He didn’t see anything, but he could smell bacon and eggs. His stomach twisted into a knot.

Still, she didn’t seem to be causing any terrible destruction with her breakfast sandwich. He noted that she had four different colored highlighters next to her notebook, but tore his attention away before he felt like a creeper.

Okay. He had the lay of the land. It made him feel weirdly better. This library was now his base of operations, the center for his information gathering campaign and the subsequent plan… construction …campaign?

He’d workshop a name later. For now, he jogged back down a floor and went to the modern history section. He just read titles for a while, trying to paint a picture of what shared history he could confirm.

He saw lots of familiar country names referenced, and a few of the names that cropped up were familiar as well. The eerie feeling that he wasn’t home just got stronger, though, because there was no reference to half the modern wars and much less on WW1 and 2 than he'd expected. They were shelved in with books about the Justice League. 

Justice League?

There was a whole lot of scholarship on that, whatever it was. Maybe it was like the U.N., Peter guessed. He flipped open a book and flipped pages randomly, scanning for words that stuck out. Ah, nope, there’s a reference to the U.N. So, this was a different thing entirely.

Okay, well. That gave him a starting point of something to look up. 

He went back to the first floor and started a session on one of the public use computers. He had to write the time and his name on a check in sheet. He started to write ‘Peter’ out of force of habit and scrawled to a stop after writing the Pe.

For all he knew, that could be a bad idea. He shouldn’t leave any record that actually led back to him. 

‘...So what else starts with Pe?’

It took him an embarrassingly long time to come up with Peyton. He wrote that down, exhausted and relieved, and then realized he needed a last name too. Oh, heck. He wrote a random letter -K- and then searched his brain for a plausible sounding last name. He came up with Kensington and then sat down, idly wondering if that was actually a name or just like, a place in the U.K. or what.

‘...I only thought of that because it ended in ‘ton’ like Peyton,’ he had the delayed realization. ‘It sounds kinda cheesy together. Fakey.’

Okay. Realistically, no one was ever going to look at that register. So it was fine that he wasn’t good at lying on his feet. He probably needed to sit down and come up with a couple of fake names to use in future.

Well. Maybe he didn’t have to be that creative. He opened a window and searched ‘Tony Stark.’ His heart fell as he scrolled through the results.

Tony Stark didn't exist here.

There had been people with that name, don’t get him wrong. But they weren’t Mr. Stark. There was no Mr. Stark in this universe. He tried looking up current billionaires instead, just in case Mr. Stark had a different name. He flipped through their photos with a sinking heart. That guy was too bald, Mr. Stark would never have a mustache that silly, Mr. Stark wasn't that jacked, no, no, no. 

He tried other names- Happy Hogan, Jamese Rhodey, Virginia Potts (he initially forgot that her name wasn’t really Pepper and ended up on a site for kitchen goods).

The result? No result, more like. Not great.

He tried celebrities. Musicians, actors, philosophers, everyone he could think of. Weirdly, lots of them popped up.

The difference seemed to be around 1940. Historical names came up the way that he would expect them to. But anyone who was modern just didn’t.

Out of extremely morbid curiousity, he googled Anne Frank. He found a semi successful novelist in her 90s who lived in Prague.

Peter put his face in his hands. Okay. Okay, he knew approximately when the universes or whatever had diverged. That was wild.

His hands were shaking. He got up, realized he didn’t have a reason to stand, and then went to pour himself a paper cup of the complimentary water so he didn’t feel like a crazy person. 

This was a whole different world. He couldn't assume that his background knowledge was helpful. 

That made him feel so safe and secure. Thanks, universe. 

[fishsticksloser]

Can I have a request that the rottmnt turtles s/o died with karai by the shredder and then came back as a ghost to reunited their boyfriend as they got their hamato ninpo they can defeat the shredder

Ghost of You

Raph x gn!reader

Warnings: death, injuries, angst, comfort, yo'kai/mutant!reader, this is pretty long...

A/N: I'm only doing one turtle because I wasn't really sure how to do the others without sounding redundant. Reader is either yo'kai or a mutant due to the fact that when they unlocked their ninpo, NYC was in the orb. I skip quite a bit of what happens, but this is still pretty long.

You had gone to the lair because you hadn't heard from your boyfriend all day. You hadn't seen him since the day before the Battle Nexus Big Mama held in New York.

"Raph?" You call, walking through the demolished lair. "Raphael!?"

Something explodes and you are buried under rubble. You can't move, even breathing hurts due to the dust.

"Gram Gram!" You hear Leo yell.

"No! The Hamato must live on!" Raph tells him. You wanted to yell for him. You were trapped, you needed him. You hear a lot of commotion before hearing someone yell about the Turtle Tank.

"For the boys." Draxum sighs.

"For our boys." Splinter corrects.

You hear fighting. Still trapped under the rock. Everything stopped soon after. You heard the Foot Clan play a video.

"I've got the Empyrean." Draxum grunts.

"Draxum! I cannot believe you are doing this you turned out..." Splinter groans.

"You knew this day was coming, rat." You could hear Draxum's evil smile. "He hates me. I hate him. It's kind of our thing and now I win."

"Where is the Empyrian?" Shredder asks.

"Down there in the Hidden City."

They left. You were still trapped. There was no sign of help. You didn't know how long you were there before you heard someone run in. You heard someone else moaning in pain.

"Guys, I'm coming!" You hear April call. Rubble starts moving somewhere nearby. "Karai!"

"Stop, we don't have much time..." Karai answers.

"No no. I gotta help you, take you to a hospital..."

"I will not be able to finish this journey. Now you must teach the family..."

"How can I? I'm not... I'm not one of you!"

"Oh my child... You have always been one of us..."

You see a bright green light and you felt power.

"April!" You cough. "April."

"Oh my god!" You feel rubble sliding off you. "Y/N! What... Does Raph know you're here?"

"April..." You gasp, you felt like you were drifting.

"No... Oh, please. Hang on!" You see tears slowly fall down April's face. "I'll get you to the Hidden City and we can get you some help, okay?"

April pulled you out of the rubble and helps you stand. You both limp out of the lair and you stumble. You start to fall, but April catches you and she lays you down.

"You're not going to make it, are you?" April sniffs. You shake your head, trying to get your final thoughts in order. She presses her forehead to yours. "I'm so sorry, y/n."

"It's not your fault." You breathe. "Please... Tell Raph..."

You couldn't finish, tears of your own falling. You couldn't think, couldn't speak. Still April nodded and held you.

"I'll tell him..." Her voice breaks as you finally drift away. "I'm so sorry, y/n... You deserve so much better."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⋆｡❤️ ｡⋆꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Guys! Guys guys guys guys guys!" April calls, running up to the turtles. They were in the woods with Todd.

"April?" Leo asks.

"Oh my gosh! You won't believe what happened." April tells them. "I went to the lair which is totally destroyed and found Karai and she turned into light and now I hear her voice inside my head!"

"Wanna say that one more time?" Donnie sighs.

"Karai. She did a Hamato glowy light thing and now I think she lives inside of me?" April repeats, the boys hug her.

"Gram Gram's alive?" Leo smiles.

"Gram gram, it's Mikey I miss you!" Mikey yells into April's ear.

"Gram gram would like you to let go and never do that again." April shoves Mikey away.

"Okay new plan. Gram gram tells April to tell us what to do. Please instruct us April Gram Gram sensei." Raph decides.

"She wants me to teach you the art of pinpo—" She hums.

"Ninpo." Donnie corrects. They continue to discuss the plan and what happened at the lair.

"Hey, Raph... Can I talk to you, privately?" April mumbles to him. Raph nods and they walk away from the group. "Something else happened at the lair..."

"What?" Raphael questions.

"Y/N was in the lair when it was demolished..." April begins, looking at the ground, tears starting to fall again. "They didn't make it... They wanted me to tell you um... They love you and they believe in you."

Raph didn't answer. He walked away, into the forrest.

"Is everything okay?" Mikey asks, they all watched Raph disappear.

"Y/N's dead..." April chokes. The other boys run after Raph. They find him sitting, back against a tree, crying. His brothers kneel next to him and wrap their arms around their eldest brother, tears also falling from their eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Raph..." Leo mutters.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⋆｡❤️ ｡⋆꒱ ˎˊ˗

Slowly, Raph leans backwards, falling to the cliff. "Anatawa Hitorijanai.". Realizing this, his brothers jump after him, screaming at the top of their lungs. "RAAAAAAAAAPHHHHHH!"

Their markings begin to glow in the gorgeous light and their Hamato sign appears on their chest. Their clothing becoming black as night. Their bandana tails grew.

"Saving like a Boss!"

Leo, Mikey, and Donnie form a hand, Raph grabs it hand, and joins in the transformation. They land in the water, where April was watching. The turtles have gotten their true selves back.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⋆｡❤️ ｡⋆꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Hey Shredhead! We heard you were looking for some Hamato energy. Guys?" Raphael grins, turning to Leo and Mikey.

"Oh I think I got some for him." Leo chuckles, his trowels transforming into katanas.

"That's right it's us and we've had a bit of an upgrade." April smiles.

"Big time!" Mikey cheers, his rope transforming into num-chuks, Donnie's hoe turns into a bo staff.

"And this time around...." Donnie smirks.

"We won't lose." Raph chuckles, his hand rakes becoming sais. A drill erupts from behind them, explosions flood the sky.

"My drill is out of beta!" Donnie yells.

"Donnie nice. Now put it in action." Raph laughs.

"I did. It's just for hero poses." Donnie answers.

"Respect!" Leo applauds, leaning over Raphael's shoulder.

The fight begins, the boys and April flying around Shredder. Cassandra watches Splinter wither away. She knew she had to save him and eventually she has a change of heart. Casey attacks Shredder. She shatters one of the chains, the boys run to help Splinter. They join their mystic powers.

"Oh no it is not enough. I have failed." Splinter frowns.

"No dad we can do this. You may not have taught us everything."

"But you did teach us the most important thing."

"Be there for each other."

"Remember what your mom said to you that day at the park. You are not alone!"

"My sons I..." Splinter sniffs.

"Yoshi…" A woman appears, floating in front of them.

"Mom? You're here." Splinter smiles sadly.

"I have always been here."

More Hamato ancestors appear, grabbing the shaft of the spear. "We all have."

Raph locks eyes with you. He smiles wistfully, tears threatening to spill. The others see you too, all of them smile softly.

"Hot…" Yoshi's mom began.

"SOUUUUUUUUP!!!!!!" Everyone calls. The spear shatters the armour. Shredder is destroyed once and for all and Oroku Saki returns. Karai leaves April's body and hugs her father for the first time in 500 years.

"My daughter…" He breaths.

"Thank you my young Hamatos. We will always be with you." Karai tells the turtles.

Karai, her father and all of the ancestors bow to the Turtles and their family. With this, all the Hamato spirits fade away into the night. You stay. Raph rushes forward and hugs you.

"I'm sorry..." He sobs, pulling away to look at you. You hold his face in your hands. "I should've been there for you."

"I will always be with you, Raph..." You tell him, he leans into your touch. "I'll always love you."

[louisawells]

Part Three: Wildfire...

Part Three: Wildfire 

I fully intended to write and share this part three much sooner than this; directly following part two. But, there’s something to be learned about waiting to write or tell a story while it’s still in process. 

I leave for New York in three days. My two and a half (or so) months in Copenhagen will be coming to a pause. I say pause, not end, because for all intents and purposes, it truly doesn't feel like this is the end. I don’t see my time in Copenhagen as coming to an end but rather this is the end for this particular moment in my life. 

From the moment God fanned the flame that he ignited in my heart to come here, as soon as I landed it was as if I was being propelled forward by a wildfire ever at my heels. I jumped right into life in Denmark: going on dates within a few days of my arrival, buying (not renting) a used bike, and becoming a regular at a church where the sermons are in Danish (no, my Danish is not that good to the point that I can understand an entire church sermon). There were so many moments within the first month that surprised me in the best way. Meeting people who would become friends I’d confide in in moments of true vulnerability, being able to dip my toes into the photo industry here, and seeing how God is building his church (God bless everyone who shows up when sometimes the congregation is but 10 people in total). 

There were also many moments where I was brought to my knees in humility and looking back, that first month was the third time I can recall in my life where, at a very low point, I felt God showing me where I was not seeing myself for who I was meant to be. 

Going on dates (for the first time after many months of hiatus) helped me to see that I am worthy of so much love. 

Feeling “alien” in a city where, yes, English is widely spoken but to truly be part of the culture, an entire other language is needed, helped me see my own vulnerabilities as a human and learn to embrace the uncomfortable. 

Not knowing anyone in Denmark before arriving helped me to embrace an attitude of “yes” – I was saying yes to meeting new people and visiting places I felt nudged to go because of the possibility of something great on the other side of my yes. 

Those first few weeks, filled with all of the aforementioned trials and tribulations, the darkness seemed to be closing in. But I had been there before, and being somewhere before helps you develop a familiarity and a tenacity. I’ve grown to understand you can either embrace that same circumstance like an unwanted, artificial support blanket, or you can learn to try another way. There’s a verse in the bible that I love to read: “know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow…”(James 1:3-4a)

I let flames of the wildfire of my faith spur me on. I knew that God helped me get here (and get me out of my dark night of the soul last year) and so he surely wouldn’t leave me this time either. That’s not who he is. 

Many people have asked me, “what’s next?” To which I reply, I simply don’t know yet. I want to stay (or rather, come back). I can genuinely see myself living in Copenhagen for some extended period of time. There are various obstacles and barriers on the horizon to get there, but I also know that whatever is to come, though it may not be easy, will surely be good (check out Psalm 84:11). I’ll be in NYC for the foreseeable few months after that, we will see. If I could do this, I’m truly excited for what else is possible for me and where else I can go.

To end, I wanted to share an entry from my journal that I wrote on a plane a few weeks before my trip to Copenhagen. I often journal my prayers and thoughts as a way to look back and see how God responded later or to see where my mind was at (I am frequently amused at how fickle I am). 

--

Ellipsis

In the ellipsis, I wait for the answers to come. 

I step into the space from where and who I was to the ever-present becoming. In the ellipsis, I hold things with loose fingers, willing to trust that some items may slip from my grasp (truthfully, they were always God’s to carry anyway). 

In the ellipsis, I wonder if I’ve brought too much. Are my bags too heavy, did I overpack, overthink? I trust that as I move through the months, I can keep what needs to be kept close, say goodbye to the things that are ornamental, and still hold on to the questions that remain. 

In the ellipsis, I want my yeses to be yeses and my nos to be nos. With each pause and each breath, I become more authentically me. 

In this pause, I pause and rest. Simply because I can. In the ellipsis, I wonder how I say goodbye and hello. I recognize that some goodbyes will be periods while others will only be semicolons or commas. 

[brenpaidhi-blog]

Hell Hath No Fury - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Through The Looking Glass

Beth watched the activity on East 13th Street from a safe distance.

"It looks like someone beat us to it," Beth said as she watched the two detectives and the much larger number of uniforms comb the area in and around the building where four men and a collection of automatic weapons and cash had been discovered in the early hours of the morning.

"Are we sure it was one of Carmine's?" Julia's voice asked through Beth's earbuds.

"It fits the pattern," Beth answered, "and it was a solid source, and I guarantee that he was scared shitless when he told me. He couldn't have lied if his life had depended on it."

"His life had depended on it."

"You know what I mean; you know I wouldn't have killed him."

"Yeah, but he didn't know it."

"Which was the point."

Beth had not intended to kill him, but Alice was never far beneath the surface, and she had her own agenda and no guard rails. God help that man if Alice had been the one asking the questions. Julia knew Beth (and Alice) well enough to know how much danger the man had been in, and he had been right to be scared. More than one man had shit himself before or during an interview with Alice, and many of those men had died weeping in puddles of their own bodily fluids. She would always have the memories, even if she was mainly rid of the urges. She was still learning to redirect those urges when she felt them. Her twin sister Kate, who had demons of her own and knew Beth's struggle from the inside, had saved her. Whenever Beth would use those words with her sister, Kate would almost always say that they had saved each other, but sometimes, when the emotions became too much, Kate would hug her and wipe her tears onto Beth's shirt, and it was like they had never in their entire lives been apart.

Alice was largely a thing of the past. It was only her name that Elizabeth Kane kept now, a reminder, as the memories were, as the nightmares were, of what she had endured and survived with the help of the men and women closest to her, one of whom was speaking into her ear.

"Was this targeted at Carmine? Did we miss something?"

Carmine Falcone had enemies, lots of enemies, on both sides of the line. Some of them wore suits, like Kate or Bruce. Some wore badges like the men searching the warehouse a few hundred yards away. Some of them were Carmine's former business associates. It was that last group that was responsible for the regular, though not frequent, attempts on Carmine's life, a life he should spend in prison until death took him. But which group was responsible for fucking up Beth's plans was a mystery. A week's worth of work was wasted. That poor fucking guy she had scared half to death could have gotten a pass. Beth could have spent the week on a beach somewhere; the result would have been mostly the same. Mostly.

"No, there would be four bodies and a burning building if it were targeted directly at Carmine. This was something else."

"Something else like the recent string of something elses?"

The recent string of raids on locations like this. Someone was pissed, and taking it out on the criminal element of NYC, regardless of affiliation.

"Maybe, but, whatever it is, Carmine is going to be pissed, and he will be looking for somebody to blame, and we will definitely be on his list of suspects."

"Not a very exclusive club," Julia said.

Something else or, more accurately, someone else.

Beth raised the binoculars to her eyes and refocused.

Hmmmm.

That detective is definitely something else. He can frisk me anytime.

"What did you say?" Julia asked.

Beth's eyes widened.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

[mistergoddess]

never should have smoked that shit now i am dead serious going to move to nyc if It All Works Out... fuck... this is going to be Thing I Am Scared About #1 for the foreseeable future. but it's good :) it's very scary and will be very challenging with my Issues surrounding moving and major life/environment change always being a big trigger for the autismdepressiontrauma megacombo but umm :'))

idk i'm not like particularly passionate about nyc itself which is definitely something people cite as something u need to Make It there but i think it's a cool and good place and end of the day it is just a place . and i like cities, about as much as i like countryside (and i hate cities about as much as i hate the country...) so it's like. the Most city ever (well in this country at least) isn't it. so that'll be interesting. but most importantly bruh idk i'm just. young and have never left my home town and am relatively untethered... no pets no career no partners no real friendgroup car's on its last legs anyway hell i really don't even have any major furniture i'm attached to and need or even find valuable (the one piece of furniture i do find valuable and am attached to is just way too fucking massive to ever work anywhere in ny period so... rip. at least selling that would help expenses, and literally everything else i own is trash) so like.

this is the time man. i cannot just spend my entire life in my hometown and i cannot spend my entire life in the south this is The Time to get out into the world and get some worldly experiences and like having a friend in Big Important Culturally Lush City who may have a roomie slot opening up, which can help me get my feet under me easier than if i just tried to do it solo, is an opportunity i'd regret turning down for the rest of my LIFE like this is it it is The Time Of My Life where i am Supposed To Do Things and Get Out There and here it is and i gotta do it and i want to do it and i CAN do it (and i can afford to do it!!!!! i have Toiled with a capital T for my savings and shit like this is exactly why) so i'm 100% gonna do it but omggg :'))))))))))) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa......... i am but a lil ol southern boy... i am but a little fucking creature who does not know shit about shit...........

but the only way to ever change that is to Get The Fuck Out!!!!!! and big big city with literally anything you could imagine is such a good social and career prospect like. my city is truly very decently sized especially for the south we're one of the bigger/more major/noteworthy cities but also we're a pretty Crappy city compared to other big cities even in the south, like the social scenes and activities options here are a little meeehhhh and the career and economic opportunities here DEFINITELY mehhh so it'll be amazing to be somewhere with so MUCH where any culture or interest or subculture or hobby you can think of is represented and where any food or activity or manmade type of place to see you can think of is represented and where even a little fool like myself could find their way into some seriously cool work opportunities that could mean so much advancement in like skills and experiences and income...... and just like... god this is such a horrible term but literally networking!!! not in a BIG BUSINESS kinda way but just meeting interesting people who can help you and teach you and inform you and connect you to more interesting opportunities! wahh...

and i don't have to stay forever is the beautiful thing if it sucks i can hit da bricks and i think once i've made that initial breakaway to Leave Home like selling my car (genuinely even if i stayed here forever the car is on her way out so what better thing to do than move somewhere where car is not necessary... like if i stayed the car would fucking die anyway and then i'd be in the awful position of needing another one bc you can't not have one here so yeehaw selling her for moving/travel funds and being somewhere that's far less car dependent is the most auspicious move) and my furniture and putting my remaining possessions i can't bring with all at once in storage, then i'll be in a crazy good position to jump off from that point and go other places, maybe even the places i AM specifically personally passionate about and yearn for... so like... i'm GONNA do it...

but it's mad scary for real :) I Have Never Done This Before :)

[storiesofsvu]

law and order thoughts/spoilers

as usual, they're out of order thanks to citytv airing them weird, but OC/og/svu, here we go!

HATE that city tv airs these out of order. I would love to see SVU at the same time as everyone else for fucking once.

We stan a bad bitch wife. Even if she is the real villain. And this seems to be the theme of OC. But also why is this bitch’s hair always GEL SLICKED down like this?? -- WAS THAT A GAY THOUGHT?! OMG—

OKAY NOT THIS BITCH. THE DR WHO HARVESTED ORGANS WITHOUT PARENTAL CONSENT!?!!? Fuck…get your extra’s straight PLEASE

Okay. I GET Denise’s pov when it comes to this shit, ESP with Ayanna missing handoff time for what I’m guessing is not the first time post split. But like, why must we bury our gays yet again. Why can’t we just have a fucking happy lgbt relationship SOMEWHERE on one of these shows???

“two people aren’t that close for that long and never sleep together.” Stabler: “you sure about that?”

LOOOOOOLLLLLLL as much as I don’t want EO together at this point, I do love all the little easter eggs that they toss into the shows this season

Ayanna really not fucking around with these rats and girl… I fucking feel you

Course she lied to the police, saw that one coming. Like, this bitch is not dumb, she clearly would’ve dumped the phone and is going to help this guy, like, come on guys…

This bitch is gonna be dead before you get to the Canadian border…

OH SHIT. THIS I DID NOT SEE COMING. Shiiiiitttttt

I’m way more invested in this than I thought I would be. As usual, I think it’s because of Ayanna

Bruh, she’s better at de-escalation than olivia is, I said it.

This man is a CHILD. Like…a CHILD. I’m over him being the main villain of this season I’m over him, please let this only last half a season PLEASE.

I was JUST about to say “man, I think I liked this ep so much because there was so little Stabler” and then he goes and rage punches a mirror in a public bar bathroom. Bruh. You better be paying for that….

**

Mothership time!

Okay… wait… the girl Nolan was with… I could SWEAR that’s kat’s cousin/sister/whatever….but shit aint up on imbd yet so someone remind me to look this up later.

Also…did we *really* need t have two vicious subway attacks two weeks in a row guys??

Also also….sir… you are not a cop..you do not have a weapon…why are you running *toward* the shooting.

Great acting though dude, props to the shaky hands looking legit.

Cosgrove: where the hell did he go? Bruh… you’re asking that like you were in hot pursuit… he’s LONG GONE

 All they need to do to prove this wasn’t the shooter is run a quick gsr test… like…stop pushing that angle and work the other ones.

ROSSI??!! Jfc… lololol

Okay I’m 99% sure lacey’s mom was a vic on svu….like I get it, there are only so many actors, esp for extras and in nyc but like…cmon.. lololol (sidebar: I need imdb to update pls) (update: its not lol)

I bet that they didn’t tell the mom that kate knows sign and all of this could be thrown out by a lawyer later on, though they could claim its just lip reading but like, she did invoke and a good attorney would throw hands over this. (even if they’re not associated…I cant remember the proper word rn lol)

ACCOMPLIASE! THAT’S THE WORD!

Listen… I just don’t like jack mccoy. I don’t know why. And it’s more him in the new season, didn’t mind him in the earlier svu eps (minus him threatening casey’s licence multiple times but at least Donnelly had her back)

God Sam’s so fucking hot. I may need to rewatch the last season so I can accurately start writing for her… and that RED. PLEASE!?!

Okay Nolan and this other attorney defs fucked/dated in the past. There’s no questioning it

TAKING THE JURY ON THE TRAIN!?? Well…never seen this shit before…(I wasn’t paying attention prior to the train so like, if that was some weird imagine thing, pardon me lol) but like DAMN.

I need to have a couple of eps without Nolan. I want to see Sam take first chair or a solo case.

Yeah they definitely dated…

Okay that episode was heavy.. if you’re going to watch, be known that it could defs be triggering, both the opening segment, the main living victim’s testimony and the jury on the crime scene train was all a LOT

**

SVU fucking finally. Bring me my babies please!!

Therapy! Thank fucking god! I mean, she’d obvi have to be post shooting, but like, still. Thank fuck

Okay this amanda does seem like more early season amanda, like, the defensiveness, the closed off, please don’t be that closed off with your friends or carisi pls.

But also like, fuck. How hard it must be to deal with what happened when you’re at home with the girls when you can’t pick either of them up because there’s a hole in your stomach….

“we bring HOME” ???!!!! SO THEY LIVE TOGETHER NOW, RIGHT!?? UGH. THE CUTENESS. I ADORE PAPA CARISI

Okay I cant decide if amanda would be all over this case because of her obsession with social media/reality tv and the like, or if she would just roll her eyes at the way the girl was acting because she’s done that shit in the past like with… skye…I cant remember her real name but when the vics don’t see themselves as vics or want help amanda usually shoves them away

“she’s a millennial, they’re entitled” OUCH OLIVIA, OUCH.

YES!! MUNCY! YES!! I LOOVE when they bring in actors reality’s into their characters (and molly’s a huge sports fan)

Yeah right, “my daughter’s a huge fan” amanda?! Please. It’s you.

Girl…if you wanted to not be followed and not stand out why tf are you wearing a BRIGHT pink hoodie??

Liv looking *fire* thank god this season did her so much better

Ugh COUCH CUDDLES GOD LORD HEY ARE FEEDIN US WELL

Would have been made 10000 times better IF she was wearing the Fordham hoodie

Oh jesus fucking christ. I stand by what I said earlier; amanda could never have been coping through this without having someone else helping her with the kids cause she is not okay…

That ring is not gorgeous. It looks like a cheap ass plastic kids toy ring

This case is giving me major Spousal Privilege vibes.

Okay that *is* Tensley Addams mom…

HAAAAA!! I KNEW THE WARDROBE ADVICE WAS COMING lololol. Like, nick got told to shave INSTANTLY, this girls been walking around in jeans and baggy hoodies for way too long now.

Okay, I know this is “based” off the depp/heard case, and honestly, I’m (so far) super happy with the way they’ve done it. It could’ve been a LOT more obvious and this is like, the right way of taking “ripped from the headlines” and making it into a plot bunny for an actual episode.

Im sorry… THAT’S austin’s lawyer?!?! The so called “most expensive, best lawyer in the city?” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? No.. absolutely not. (and this isn’t even me being salty about rita not being around…this is just be thinking there’s no way she’s the best he could get…) (and no offence to her, it’s the costuming choice in her first scene…bruh…no..) (arraignment outfit much better)

YES!! YES!! THEY LIVE TOGETHER!!! (also there was so definitely more to that office scene and they cut it… FUCK)

Theres something going on with the red pants in the gallery, theres too many of them to it not be a thing…

 Okay, I was right for the red pants

She can’t close the courtroom??? Seriously?? I thought that was a thing? And was honestly already wondering why the gallery wasn’t cleared.

Eeeeecckkk I know carisi is doing exactly what he needs to for court, but like…that argument would be something that would directly affect and hurt amanda, esp the state she’s in rn. Thankfully, I don’t see her in the courtroom so at least she wasn’t witness to that…

THAT ROLIVIA SCENE OH MY GOD PERFECTION

So…the girl asks for a back exit from the precinct cause she think papp’s followed her, but she walks out the front stairs of the courthouse post verdict???

How tall is this kid!?? Like he’s bigger than carisi?!

Okay, we were fed WELL tonight besties. I am so thankful to finally see amanda realizing what her issues are and dealing with them while having the full support of her (presumably) closest friend liv and her love, like, this is healing, this is growth and progress. Do I hate that she’s going to leave in a few eps? Absolutely. But this is so much better than the past.

This week had yet another great episode.

[iwantutobehapppier]

We Will Wake Up

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: Steve and Bucky seemed to be everywhere you looked, certainly this familiarity between the three of you would only bode well when you seek refuge at their place during the Shutdown.  Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Steve Rogers, somnophilia, dubcon bordering on noncon. Please if any of this bothers you read no further. There will be more fics for Festival of Smut with little to no dark themes.  Word Count:  2,536 A/N: Happy 2nd night of Chanukah! I give you some dark/creep Steve. I have been tinkering with this one for a long time now. @sapphirescrolls​ really helped fuel this along with Tyler by the Toadies.

You know Steve’s there. He’s always there now. He knows you know. He parades around as if his presence is pure coincidence. It is equal parts laughable and concerning.

Looking out the corner of your eye you catch the tall bulky frame of his best friend Bucky beside him as they wait for their coffee. Bucky a man of little flourish in coffee grabs his cup and sits right across from you at the table outside of the little coffee shop. Outside seating more comfortable for you given the current pandemic. But your two shadows didn’t have any worry about the pandemic with the Super Soldier Serum.

Steve and Bucky were great people. Working with them when it came to PR had its challenges but overall a joy.  Not only that but you were pleased to become friends with them. That was months ago. Now they were showing up everywhere you went outside of the regular

Compound encounters. However, you had noticed Steve was sans his pal more often than not in recent encounters.

“You should stay in the compound with us,” Bucky offers a solution to your current dilemma. You frown at his suggestion. Steve’s waiting for his drink inside of the coffee shop they both happened to show up to this morning.

A coffee shop you had never gone to before in an attempt to test your theory about being possibly followed. The results, worrisome

“I mean,” Bucky leans over his cup keeping eye contact. “You’ve said it yourself, they’re starting the shutdown soon and you’re not sure how long you can spend being completely alone.” You look away at his intense gaze only to catch Steve’s eye as he sits next to you at the four top.

“What are you two talking about?” An easy smile falls over Steve’s face before he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Just that she should stay with us,” Steve nearly spits out his drink, and Buck chuckles at his expense. “You know, staying with us would be much more entertaining than being alone.” Bucky leans over the table looks at Steve directly when he stops.

Steve nods his head, taking the lead.

“You know the Compound ground fairly well,” Steve continues. “It’ll be fully stocked to last the shutdown and then some.”

Nibbling on your bottom lip in equal worry and contemplation you worked out in your head, ways to refuse the offer without coming off as a heinous bitch. 

“Wouldn’t you guys be coming and going during missions?” You scrunched your face up. “I think that would put me at risk of contagion.”

“That’s the greatest part about it,” Bucky leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “We’ll be there too. Unless the worst happens, and then we’ll get testing to make sure we’re not carriers before we come back home,” he pauses looking at Steve then you, “to you.”

Steve clears his throat shifting in his seat you tilt your head to the side watching him. “Are you okay Steve?”

“Mm?” he looks directly at you for longer than fleeting seconds. “Yes,” he pauses. “I really think you should consider the offer.” His hand rests on your knee, the heat emitting off him almost too much for the end of March in New York City. 

“We have a spare room in our apartment there,” He watches you nibble on your lip once again, he shifts to Bucky who just nods his head towards you. “We’ll get it set up just the way you want and I swear we won’t leave dishes in the sink.”

Bucky chuckles, “I agreed to no such thing,” Steve cuts his eyes at his pal. “Fine,” Bucky huffs folding his arms over his chest pouting.

You can’t help but laugh at the two of them, much like a married couple. Maybe having their banter around would be helpful to ease the worrisome a pandemic causes? Perhaps the following was because the two had so few friends outside the compound as is and they’ve often said how welcoming you make them feel. Without letting yourself fret any more over the decision you made your choice.

“Okay,” you nodded your head, Steve’s hand on you clasping around your knee. “When can I move in?”

The smile that illuminates Steve’s face bright enough to light up the sky of NYC you were sure of it. However, the grip on your knee makes something in your hindbrain whisper “Be careful.”

You had been doing so well, it was a month in and the situation was proving rewarding for all parties. You had a nice state of the art abode, they had a personal chef in you and you all had each other for company. 

Working from home was not an issue at all, they left you alone when you were working. You only saw them when you’d pause for lunch, where they always seemed to in the kitchen waiting for you. After work would normally be some type of movie to watch for them to catch up, sharing music or the rare occasion Steve drawing you as you read. 

It was nice and oddly domestic bliss but it seemed to change one drunken night when you kissed Steve. It wasn’t meant to be anything, you were drunk feeling good and he was making you feel good. With his compliments and attention before you knew it your lips were on his. He didn’t respond which left you feeling completely foolish. 

Not that you wanted anything to happen between you and Steve, you didn’t, right? He was handsome, and god knows he was packing with what your eyes have beheld when he comes back from his work on in his grey sweats. So maybe you did? Or was it the cabin fever?

However, after that, it’s a fat chance anything would happen as he avoided you the next day. Bucky told you it was just his nerves that “He’s never had a hot dame like you into him.”

Luck was on your side two nights later when Steve ventured out of his room for a movie night. A romance on no less, and Bucky suspiciously dipping out early claiming he was exhausted. That left you and Steve miles apart on the couch until Steve slid down to your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pulled you close and when you tried to pull back for some space for civility you couldn’t budge him. 

When the romantic duo of the film finally kiss you can’t help but look at Steve from the corner of your eye. Steve is staring at you, a light blush on his cheeks. He leans forward, and before you know what’s happening his lips are on yours. You’re quite shocked given the drunken kiss you gave him.

It takes only a moment for your lips to soften on his. The pleased sigh he emits warming your body up almost more than the kiss. With tentative movement, his tongue trails only your bottom lip, and your open your mouth on reflex. Then the flood gates are open, he’s pulling you into his lap, arms holding you secure as you both make up for the last quarter of the film.

As the credits roll you finally part, lips chapped and swollen. You feel your cheeks warm as you look away. Well, this certainly wasn’t your plan. Steve clears his throat and you look back at him.

“I had wanted to do that for a while,” You give a shy smile in response.

“I think,” you pull yourself off his lap. “It was worth the wait and just enough.” Needing to keep your distance before you let this go farther than it should. Sleeping with someone who was kindly housing you rent-free was not the smartest move in your opinion. 

Steve nods in agreement though his brow furrow with agitation. He was fairly certain his night would go somewhere else and the uncomfortable tightness of his pants had to be dealt with.

“I suppose you’re right,” he shifts on the couch and you pretend not to see the bulge in his pants that you had without a doubt felt just a moment underneath you. “I say we call it a night.” Steve veining confidence to take control of the night.

Nodding in agreement. “Good night Steve,” as you go to turn he stands up and grabs your wrist pulling you into him capturing your lips one last time. 

Letting you go when you pull apart he smiles. “Just had to have one more,” tucking your hair behind your ear you can’t help but smile, “Sweet dreams.”  He releases your hand as you turn once more to retreat to your room.

His eyes glower at your disappearing figure, eyes tracing the flare of your hips and lush back side. He wasn’t sure he could wait for another night to continue this path you two were on. One he desperately wanted. 

You were awake and abruptly so.

You felt, full? Oddly so? An ache and stretch in your lower abdomen the first sensations as you wake up. Then it’s the way you feel your pelvis flex against something. Eyes opening the room is still dark, your eyelids feel heavier than usual when awoken in the night. Are you sitting upright? What’s the warmth radiating at your back?

Warm muscular arms wrap around your body from behind, you yelp in fear. Your bareback is forced against a fuzzy chest. Wait, are you naked? Thick thighs flex below you and that ache in your lower abdomen is clearly all the way to your pelvis becomes clear. Your gasping for breath as panic sets in, your voice cracks in your attempts to call out for help. Who is this?

“Ssshh,” lips press against the shell of your ear. You’re cocooned in warmth and you’ve never been more afraid in your life. This sensation should be comforting but-

“Knew you’d feel so tight around me,” You’re bounced up by the thighs beneath, and the moan that pulls from your lips is involuntary. The thick cock lodged so deep inside you feel too good. It shouldn’t feel this good. The bulbous cock head brushing against that special spot with each re-entry. 

“Ste-Steve?” you get out between your shock and pleasure. He holds you down, still as can be, you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your back. Lips the press against your ear slowly trails down your neck resting at the nape. His breath pushes hot air across your bare chest with a forceful exhale.

“It’s me,” His words a whisper on your skin. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” You try to find his words comforting, recalling how gentle he is with you, how attentive and soft the first kiss was earlier this night. How had it escalated so quickly?

Your nails dig into his forearms, his large hands holding your waist lifting you up and down as if you were light as a feather. It was disorienting. He drops you down and as your mouth opens his large sweaty palm mutes your scream.

“Normally,” Steve grunts pushing up into you. “I’d want to hear your beautiful voice,” He lifts you once more, his hands so warm and tight against your skin. His super strength made you feel like a sack of potato at the most. Slowly lowering you down his pulsing shaft you can feel the way he pulls at your walls, the sponge feel of the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

“But I don’t want Buck to hear.” He grunts pushing his hips up and down, his thighs moving you without your aid. “These noises are mine.” He growls. His hand slips from your mouth to between your slick folds to rub softly against your little nub.

When you inhale to moan Steve shushes you, resulting in you bitting your lip trying to muffle your moans. “That’s my good girl,” his words warm against your skin as he sets a steady pressure on your nub in a circular motion.

Your walls fluttering around him he muffles his groan. “Fuck, baby girl,” his fingers digging into your hip. Steve’s hands move to lift you up, almost completely off his cock the wide tip sitting at the opening. For a brief moment, you think it’s over whatever this violation of your body is.

Then you’re falling, the push of his thick and long shaft into you makes your head jerk back. His chin resting on your forehead. Steve’s bulging arms wrap around you resting under your breast. “You feel me here?” a hand slips down to push on your lower abdomen. A soft moan pulling from your lips at the feeling. 

Looking down you gasp seeing the slight bulge, no wonder it felt like he was splitting you in two. Watching the hand slip down further, two fingers slide down to capture your clit, giving a gentle squeeze. Your body shakes, biting your lip to hold in a moan tilting your head back once more. 

Your hands grip his large forearm trying to pull his hand back. The sensory overload too much from being woken up in such a jarring manner. Trying to get hold of whether you wanted this or not was becoming difficult with each touch. 

Steve tut’s in your ear, his hand pulling back to slap your pussy. Your whimper following the slapping noise. “Don’t hide how much you’ve been wanting this.” He bends his head, lips resting on your forehead. Then touch intimate and far more gentle than what he is doing with your body. 

“I know you’ve been waiting so patiently for me to fill your pussy,” His crass words scrap against your forehead. You go to shake your head but pause when he rotates his hips. 

“It’s okay,” his tone saccharine, “We’ve got plenty of time to make it up before Bucky wakes up.”

[sazc94]

The Three Times James "Bucky" Barnes Broke your heart.

This was inspired by @msmarvelwrites 2k Writing Challenge because I'm a sucker for Taylor Swift especially sad Taylor Vibes. I chose the all too well lyrics.

Apparently, I can't do anything small so it's in two parts. Pairs Bucky x Reader and Pietro x Reader. (Not at the same time)

Part 1 Here

No smut but mentions of sex so 18+ Themes: highschool, cheating, college/uni. Friendship

Words 3368 it's Suburban AU.

2015 You finished up Uni staring in the school's production of Rock of Ages, Playing Sherry opposite Loki’s drew. Loki also moved to New York staying with his half brother Thor Oddinson. You stayed in touch with Loki and Pietro. The thing that took you by surprise however was six months after moving to Detroit, whilst working for Bruce Banner's start-up you received a DM on Instagram from Bucky. He heard from Sam and Jane that you were now living in Detroit and he was moving to the area after being scouted by the Detroit Lions. Hey Y/N, I hope you’re good. I know this is random and please feel free to tell me where to go, but I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink sometime? It would be great to see you again and catch up. Let me know. So you replied feeling like maybe after all this time it might be good to finally hear Bucky’s apology. Pietro and you had stayed in touch but you knew he was dating someone else. Her name was Sue Storm, she seemed like a nice girl, very smart and could easily give Pietro a run for his money. After hearing Bucky’s apology, you two started to become friends again, he invited you along to his games always offering to secure you two tickets if you wanted to bring someone. He was a machine on the football field, earning the strange nickname The Winter Soldier.

2016

Everything changed in the summer of 2016 though when Bucky’s mother passed away suddenly in June. She had practically helped raise you, so you attended the funeral with Bucky. You stayed with him in the guest room in his childhood house, helping him sort through belongings and paperwork. Bucky’s dad had died when you were 8 and Bucky like you was an only child. You took in food from neighbours wanting to pay their respects. You held his hand squeezing it in comfort during the funeral, assuring him you were there for him. Two days after the funeral you and Bucky had finished packing up the final boxes, you were upstairs, and he was downstairs being awfully quiet. You went looking for him only to find him sat on the living room floor. He was crying holding a picture of you and him one Halloween when you were 9, Bucky had gone as Superman and you as Supergirl. Your mums stood behind you, both of them chuckling whilst you and bucky tried to out pose one another. Your heart swelled. Your Grandad had died in November and god how your heart had ached, but to lose your mum, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Hey, hey. It's alright I’m here Buck”, you said cradling his head to your chest whilst he sobbed. You stayed like that for an unidentifiable amount of time before Bucky’s crying eased. He looked up at you blinking away the stray tears, the familiar blue in his eyes pulling you in. Your not sure who kissed who first but that was how you and Bucky ended up sleeping together.

You and Bucky officially got back together in July. Your Grandma passed away in September, the start of football season. Bucky was unable to attend the funeral, he tried god he tried. Pietro made it though. He and Sue had broken up not that he told you. By the time November rolled around things were good between you and Bucky. Wanda’s fashion label Scarlett Witch was taking off and she invited you and Bucky out to join the rest of the old gang at the official launch in December of 2016. You accepted and for the pair of you assuring Bucky, there would be no awkwardness. Pietro was casually dating and was bringing a date called Crystal.

You arrived at the party in NYC completely blown away. Wanda had asked you to wear a piece from the evening wear collection, a Black strapless dress, the top if form-fitting made from chiffon fabric, the skirt cut out the front made of black tulle sparkled with the touches of glitter. It felt like you were wearing the Milky Way. After stopping to pose for photos for the press you made your way inside. The party was being held inside a beautiful gothic building. “Y/n! You look absolutely amazing, thank you so much for wearing this and of course for coming” Wanda practically pounced on you the minute she spotted you. “Bunny! I agree absolutely amazing. Bucky, you don’t look too bad yourself” Pietro said kissing you on the cheek. Pietro was wearing a deep blue suit, it made his hair and ice-blue eyes pop. Bucky had opted for the simple black tux to match you and your dress. He almost looked good enough to eat. After grabbing a glass of champagne, Wanda and Pietro took you to the rest of the gang who had made it. Jane was here with a date, Thor Oddinson you recognised him from the few times he had been to see you and Loki in shows. Carol was here too. Peter Parker was working the event as a photographer he had brought a date a lovely young lady called Mary Jane Watson. After about 45 minutes of schmoozing and catching up, you went to the ladies room. When you exited you were a little taken aback by the sight that confronted you, a redhead was hanging of Bucky’s arm chuckling away with Thor and Jane. You could only see the back of her from where you were standing. You decided to walk over and introduce yourself. However, when you got closer to the group the woman started to look vaguely familiar.

“Hey babe,” Bucky said as you approached quickly removing his arm from the redhead. Babe. That was weird he never called you babe. His blue eyes looked like they were hiding something. “Lady Y/N. This is Lady Natasha” Thor said introducing you. The redhead turned to shake your hand smiling at you with a knowing look. “Lovely to finally meet the infamous Y/N,” she said. “I told Bucky how disappointed I was not to meet you when I was in the City in September. I’m so sorry to hear about the passing of your grandmother. Bucky kept me company whilst I was around on some Business” her voice sounded harmless, sweet and pleasant. Genuine. Her eyes and knowing smirk told a different story. Bucky looked at you, the familiar betrayal in his eyes, pleading with you. “I was just telling Bucky, I’ve been offered this amazing opportunity in Detroit so Ill be moving there in February, isn’t that wonderful?” she asked. You smiled taking a swig of your champagne. Jane looked at you, then Bucky. You shook your head.

That was the second time Bucky Barnes broke your heart. He assured you that they hadn’t slept together, however had admitted that he had kept her visit from you and that she had kissed him. “Did you kiss her back?” you asked pacing around your hotel room. “Doll, please what does it matter,” he asked reaching out for you. His calloused hands once again burning your skin with his betrayal. The fact he had chosen not to answer was all the confirmation you needed. You had left him in the hotel room. Loki had been unable to make the event due to being in a small play off-Broadway, but you had texted him asking if he wanted to get a drink. You had told him everything and he had walked you back to your hotel room. You were drunk and distressed. Bucky had opened the door his blue eyes flashing with jealousy when the handsome black-haired gentleman had his arms around you. “Easy James, if anything was going to have happened between us, it would have happened in freshman year of college,” Loki said helping you into your room. After you and Bucky returned to Detroit you guys took a break for a few months.

2017

Natasha’s job conveniently happened to be working as a fitness instructor at the Detroit Lions. After 4 months you and Bucky got back together in March of 2017. Things were going great, Natasha seemed to have released whatever hold she had on Bucky. Bucky was performing well with the Lions, his new teammate, Steve Rogers nicknamed Captain America seemed to have caught the eye of many ladies including Natasha. He however didn’t seem that interested in her and had his sights set on a girl from his home in Brooklyn her name was Peggy. Steve and you hit off due to your mutual disinterest in Miss Romanoff, he had come up with a nickname for her, he called her Black Widow because she seemed to devour the men in her life. Banners start-up tech company had taken off with thanks to your ad campaigns. You were also performing in the local summer show of Mamma Mia playing Sophie. In the summer of 17, Peggy Carter came to visit Steve, turned out she was from Britain originally. You liked Peggy and her no-nonsense approach. During July, the four of you went on lots of double dates like you were high schoolers again. For Steve’s birthday which happened to be the fourth of July, the four of you attended an event being put on by the Detroit lions. You had a great evening mixing with various teammates and their families. You even warmed to Natasha a bit that afternoon.

As the evening rolled around a giant cake was brought out to celebrate Steve’s birthday. Followed by a firework show. Everyone made their way to various blankets and cushions set out at the opposite end of the stadium. Somewhere along the way you and Bucky got separated. You didn’t worry too much, to begin with as you’d both drifted off to interact with various people throughout the event, however by the time the fireworks started Bucky was nowhere to be seen. You started to think the worst until you spotted Natasha’s red hair on the other side of the stadium flirting with a gaggle of players from various other teams who were invited. Confident Bucky would return shortly you turned your attention to the sky watching with a goofy grin, things were finally settled between you and Bucky. As the fireworks went on you decided to snap a few shots on your phone loving the way the sky lit up with bright colours. The Detroit Lions didn’t do things in small doses, so the firework display ended up going on for about an hour and a half. After about 45 minutes Bucky returned from wherever he had been slipping down behind you pulling your back flush to his chest. He stroked small circles on your arms. His rough calloused skin making you shiver from the contact.

In September you were approached by Tony Stark’s PA Pepper Potts, they had seen your campaigns for Bruce Banner and Tony was interested in headhunting you. Your contract with Bruce was up in October. You initially shot the idea down. Why would you want to leave Michigan? Your family home was a short 20-minute drive away, Bucky was doing well with the Lions. Peggy Carter was moving here after Steve had proposed at the end of Summer. It seemed ludicrous. After initially shooting down the offer. Pepper contacted you, doubling their initial offer. The offer was tempting, so you told Miss Potts you would think it over the weekend. There was no harm in bringing it up with Bucky, maybe a move would do you both good, Natasha seemed to have gotten under Bucky’s skin again. You left the office early that day. You didn’t bother to text Bucky figuring you could surprise him when he got home from training with a home-cooked meal. You stopped off to get some supplies to make Lasagne before heading over to his apartment figuring you could just let yourself in. You had called Wanda on the drive over through your cars Bluetooth. She and Vision were engaged, and she wanted you to be one of her bridesmaids. Partway through the call, Pietro had walked into Wanda’s office so you had told them both about the job offer. When you got to Bucky’s you immediately recognised the Black Widows black Mercedes. “huh, that’s weird, I wonder what she’s doing here,” you said out loud “who’s where?” asked Wanda. “oh um nothing, look I got to go I just got to Buck’s and I’m cooking dinner, going to talk to him about Tony’s offer,” you said before hanging up. You were so blind-sighted by Natasha’s car you didn’t clock Bucky’s Motorcycle parked in the corner of the small parking lot. You grabbed your bags walking up to Bucky’s figuring that you could invite Natasha in if need be whilst you waited for Buck to come home.

If you had noticed Bucky’s bike, then just maybe you would have been more prepared for the following events you unlocked Bucky’s apartment and you found clothes strewn everywhere, his jeans. A white Blouse. His boxer trunks. A Black lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you. At first, you were so shocked by what you saw that you didn’t hear the moans coming from the bedroom. It was like you were possessed you carried your bag of groceries as you walked in a daze to the bedroom, you opened the door and found Bucky once again cheating on you. He and Natasha were in the throws of fucking each other, you found Natasha with her back to you, wrapped around Bucky’s waist. Bucky sat upright facing you however his eyes closed whilst he drank in the pleasure. You felt your heartbreak as you dropped your bag of groceries. The bag made a thud as it hit the ground, alerting Bucky to your presence. His eyes flew open connecting with yours. Natasha however didn’t stop riding your boyfriend’s cock. Bucky tried to push her off him, but you were already storming out the door. You grabbed your bag and left Bucky’s spare key in the door. Bucky grabbed a pair of joggers and slippers before chasing after you. Bucky’s apartment was on the second floor. All the apartments on the second floor opened outside to a walkway.

“Really James?!?” you turned round to face him before he could even say your name. “Was once not enough? Did you not hurt me enough the first time?” You asked. You could feel the anger threatening to burst in the way of tears. Bucky went to speak, his blue eyes once again filled with guilt. “How long?!” you asked quietly. Bucky moved towards you tugging on your wrist. “Come on Y/N, come back inside it’s starting to rain, we can discuss this inside,” he said, his eyes pleading with you. At that moment Natasha appeared in Bucky’s open doorway. She looked pleased with herself, wearing Buck’s shirt. The site made you want to vomit. “How. Long?!” you asked again through gritted teeth. Bucky faltered. “Since July. Since the 4th of July event,” he admitted rubbing his hand over his face. At that moment you felt completely and utterly broken. “I’m done, James. Do you hear me? I am done. We are through. You two.” You pointed to Natasha. “You two are welcome to one another”. That was the third time Bucky broke your heart.

You took the job working for Stark Industries. Your contract had ended with Bruce but your lease on your apartment was up until January so you stayed working for him until December of 2017 You said your goodbyes to Steve and Peggy in January and moved across the country to your new life in the big apple.

December 2018

The unknown number flashed up on your phone for the third time that day. You sighed before answering it. “Hello, Y/N Speaking how can I help?” you asked fiddling with your jumper. “Hey Doll, it's me. Don’t hang up.” Your breath caught in your throat. James Buchanan Barnes. You hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. He hadn’t even attempted to reach out to you after you split up mailing your things back to you, well all but a scarf. In January shortly before you’d moved to NYC you’d seen a magazine article saying the Winter Soldier was dating Natasha Romanoff. It confirmed what you already knew deep down, which was that you might be okay but you were not fine at all.

You’d worked so hard to forget about him long enough to forget why you needed to. He had better have a damn good reason for calling you. “You have 5 minutes,” You said getting up from the sofa you were sat on. “look, I know I fucked up with you. In more than one way on more than one occasion. I think it was the pressure to be the perfect couple, you know lifelong friends to more. And well I guess I just freaked out, and then I fell for her, but she didn’t want me, and when you gave us another shot, I thought I could convince myself to love you the way I did her, the way you had loved me. But truth be told, it was always Natasha after that summer. I know you deserve better, and I truly am sorry for hurting your doll. But I wanted you to hear it from me before you read about it in the news. She’s pregnant and also, we’re getting married.” Bucky said. You stood in the middle of the apartment stunned. “So, you call me up again, just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest?” you whispered. Squeezing back the tears. “Well fuck you, James.” With that, you hung up. Of course, Bucky tried to ring right back, you declined the call, falling to your knees in pain. You had never asked for any of this, you had been quite happy being Bucky’s best girl as his friend. He was the one who kissed you at that prom.

You weren’t still in love with Bucky, you had moved on, forgetting about him and the pain he caused you. He hadn’t needed to call you, he could have given you a heads up through one of your mutual friends, but no. he had to go and stick the knife in. After lying there like a crumpled-up piece of paper and letting the tears fall. You picked yourself up. You washed your face and made yourself a mug of hot chocolate grabbing a Christmas cookie from the tin before making your way over to the bay window. You sat down taking in the view. The traffic had eased off a bit as things wound down for the evening. The snow had been falling pretty much all day. After about 15 minutes of sitting peacefully the key in the lock turned. You didn’t move you were incredibly content where you were, even if you could use a refill in the hot chocolate department.

“Hey handsome how was your day?” you asked not taking your eyes away from the street below. A group of kids were throwing snowballs at one another. You smiled to yourself enjoying their innocence. “It was good, busy” he replied taking off his coat and walking over to join you at the window seat. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “How about you Bunny? I saw a news alert. I’m guessing you know about the engagement?” he asked. You hummed a response. Before shuffling yourself around to face him. His floppy silver-blonde hair covering those beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked at you with such love and endearment, they also spoke a silent promise that he would never hurt you the way that Bucky had. You kissed him gently on the lips before standing up. “Come on Quicksilver let's shower before the Stark Christmas Gala,” you said pulling your boyfriend along behind you shooting him a knowing grin. His nickname may be Quicksilver for athletic reasons but there were some things he liked to take his time with.

A/N If you stuck with me through all this, I am truly sorry. I'm gonna go cry

Tagging the bestie @lannycleave

[wrenhyperfixates]

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s the Christmas season and Loki still has much to learn. Thankfully, he has his favorite little mortal to teach him all about it. Warnings: just straight fluff A/N: Alright, it’s December, and you know what that means: time for Christmas fics! Hope you enjoy my first installment for the holiday season. Happy reading folks :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

It was bizarre, thought Loki, how seemingly overnight the world was lit up with red and green everything. Lights, wreaths, trees, inflatable decorations; you name it, and Loki could spot it from any corner in NYC. Everyone he passed seemed to be filled with joy, ready to start singing at any second. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Normally, people would give him the side-eye, but lately they passed by with a quick nod or wave. Loki doubted it had little to do with him and much more to do with the Christmas spirit floating in the air.

Ah, Christmas. He knew a decent amount about it, but had never paid too much mind to it. After all, it wasn’t like he ever really planned on living on Midgard. It was just the way things worked out. Now he wished he’d taken a bit more of an interest, for this fat, bearded, old man in a red suit made very little sense to him. And yet, he was everywhere this time of year. Though he could have asked any one of the Avengers about it, he refused to risk being teased. It should be easy enough to learn about if he truly desired to.

Loki marveled at the world in a sort of confused awe as he walked back to the Tower. This time of the year on Midgard, while so disagreeable to many, was perfectly fine with him. The bitter cold of the city at wintertime barely even felt like a summer breeze to him. One of the perks of being a perpetually cold frost giant, he supposed, was that you didn’t notice the freezing temperatures. As for those who did, well, he didn’t get why those silly little mortals didn’t just go somewhere warmer. You’d explained to him, once, that not everyone could afford to just pack up and move as they could on Asgard. A terrible shame, he thought, and he wished that he could do something to help, not that he would ever admit it. Feeling particularly generous, he dropped a one hundred-dollar bill in one of those collection bins that always popped up this time of year. It was guarded by yet another one of those strange, bearded men ringing a bell.

Hugging his so dark-green-it-was-almost-black peacoat to him, he rounded the final corner to get back home. Much like his gloves, it was more for style than anything else. Besides, no need to draw more attention to himself by dressing too lightly in the winter weather. Taking one last glance at the world around him, Loki pushed through the doors of the Avengers Tower.

“What in the Nine?” he sputtered as he was hit with a mouthful of glitter.

“Sorry, Mr. Loki,” Peter apologized. “We’re just decorating for Christmas.”

“By throwing glitter around?”

“Yeah. Why not? It’s Christmas, everything is glittery,” he said with a shrug.

“That, I can tell you,” Loki replied, patting Peter’s shoulder as he passed, “is absolutely true.”

All his other teammates seemed to be as excited about decorating as Peter was, though no one else was just haphazardly throwing that infernal sparkly dust. No, they were all using their special talents to hang garlands up from high balconies and banisters. Large ornaments and snowflakes were hanging from the ceiling. Every floor that Loki walked to was filled with merriment and yet more Christmas adornments. How they were put up so fast, the trickster god had no idea.

The common room was, much to his surprise, the least decorated place in the Tower so far. The team must have been saving this room for last, perhaps to do all together. Loki would have been upset that he wasn’t invited, but he was sure it was mentioned in one of those email blasts he always ignored. Now that he thought of it, he did remember seeing it in something that he skimmed. Regardless, this was a nice break from the hubbub in the rest of his home at the moment. In this room, there was only a tree put up and his angel working on prepping it. You.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” you sang to the music you had blasting through the room, unaware of Loki’s presence. “Everywhere you go.”

He watched in wonder as you twirled about the floor, taking out ornaments and other assorted trimmings for the tree. You grabbed a silver and gold garland and began the tedious process of wrapping it around the artificial branches, still belting your heart out. Though Loki was unfamiliar with the words, he caught on to the tune and began humming along, startling you ever so slightly. He walked up to you and grabbed your hand, joining in your spinning and dancing. Prancing around the room with you, Loki was filled with unbridled joy, and he thought he might be beginning to understand the reason for all the joy the season brings.

As you sang the final notes, you and the God of Mischief collapsed onto the couch amidst the boxes of Christmas knick-knacks, laughing your heads off. When you tried to get up, Loki pulled you back down to him, starting another fit of giggles.

“And how is my little mortal today?” he asked, playfully ticking you a little.

“I’d be a lot better if you let me finish decorating,” you teased, poking his chest.

He sighed and relinquished you back to your duties, watching you walk back toward the tree. If only he had the courage to tell you how he feels, rather than just admiring you from afar. You were best friends, sure, but he longed for more. Much more.

“Loki,” you called in a sing-song voice, batting your eyes. “Can you help me, please?”

“Of course, little one.”

He helped you string the garland the rest of the way around the tree, using his magic to get even the highest boughs. You squealed in delight as you admired your work so far, throwing your arms around Loki to thank him for his help.

Soon, the rest of the team joined you and began to hang the ornaments. No one particularly cared about where they were put, just that everyone was having fun. Loki tried to stay on the outskirts of the activity, but everyone kept pulling him back in. It made him happier than he cared to admit that they all concerned themselves with him participating. That they wanted him to participate.

“What do you think, Mr. Loki? Here?” Peter questioned as he held up an ornament in a prospective spot. “Or here?”

“The first spot, I suppose.”

“No,” Thor chimed in, making Peter worried he was going to start one of their infamous sibling battles. “The second spot, for certain.”

“I guess. I still do not understand most of this ‘Christmas’ stuff, to be quite honest.”

“Well, why did you not say so, brother?”

“Yeah, we can teach you all about it,” you added, showing up beside them. Then you snapped your fingers, getting an idea. “The tree lighting is tonight! At Rockefeller Center. We should go to that!”

“That’s a perfect idea,” Peter agreed. “So it’s set then. A crash course, then a field trip to see the tree lighting!”

Loki smiled at his friends as they bustled around him, planning the rest of the day. He couldn’t wait for later, and it made the rest of the time spent decorating even more enjoyable. Between the constant singing and cracking of jokes, there was not a dull moment to be found. While it would have usually drained Loki, he felt as lively as ever. Maybe there truly was something special about the season, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Loki stood with his teammates as incognito as possible in Rockefeller Center. It had been agreed that they just wanted to be normal people for one, not celebrities. To keep your group warm, Loki had cast a heating enchantment that they were all more than grateful for as they waited for the tree to light. In the last minutes before it was set to shine through the night, you summarized your lessons on the holiday.

“So,” you began, “I guess it’s basically a time for love, showing others how much they mean to you. And sure, there’s all the commercial stuff about candy canes and elves and trees and Santa Claus, which is nice and all, but that’s not the real meaning. It’s about being with those you care about and spreading goodwill to all.”

Loki thought back to all the times he’d needed a little charity or a helping hand, or really just to be shown he was loved. There were certainly a plethora of scenarios to pick from in his life. A whole season to spread cheer and show everyone things are not as hopeless as they seem sounded like a splendid idea indeed.

“I quite like the sound of that,” he said with a smile. As you looked back at him, an equally warm glow adorning your features, Loki realized there was one person he loved more than anyone else. With a sudden burst of confidence, he went to tell you exactly how he felt. “I must say this now, I-”

He was cut off as the crowd began the countdown. You gave him an apologetic smile as the both of you joined in. Upon reaching the last number, the tree lit up, filling Loki with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. That was only accentuated when you grabbed his hand, bursting with excitement and awe. Once the cheering went down, and your group began to depart, you remembered Loki had been about to say something to you.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me before?” you asked. “Before the countdown.”

“Oh,” he said, clearing his throat. He’d already lost his nerve. “It was nothing urgent. I hardly even remember now. Another time, perhaps.”

“Well, that’s ok,” you replied, though you sounded a little disappointed. “Whenever you remember is fine.”

Back at the Tower, everyone said goodnight and parted ways to go to bed, exhausted from the busy day. In the hall between your rooms, you and Loki stopped to say goodnight one final time. You paused mid-sentence, spying something green hanging from the ceiling above you. Loki followed your gaze upward and immediately went a shade of red that put Rudolph’s nose to shame. Even before all your lessons from the day, he knew mistletoe when he saw it. And, of course, the tradition that went with it.

He heard snickering from around the corner and spotted Peter and Thor waiting for one of you to make your move. Undoubtedly, they'd fabricated the situation to try to get you together faster than you were going by yourselves. To be fair, at said pace, you’d never be together.

“Just kiss already!” Thor shouted before ducking away to give you some privacy.

“Pardon my brother,” Loki said self-consciously. “If you do not wish to, there is no law saying-”

He was cut off for the second time that night. This time, however, it was by something much more pleasurable. You had stood up on your tip toes and placed a kiss to his cheek, too sheepish to do much else.

“Night, Loki,” you said to the still stunned god. “Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow indeed, my little mortal,” he said, pulling you in for another kiss, this time on the lips.

Oh yes, it was decided. This season was magical.

[creatorofclay]

Welcome back to observations with your favorite Kamski obsessed roleplayer. Last time, we talked about the actual location of Elijah's villa (boy was that a pain to dig back up too), the exact location of it on Belle Island. Today, it's time to discuss inside.

So, credit where credit is due, I want to thank @nock-and-bolt for their post about it that caused me to dig myself because, wow. I actually bought the game on PC and paid for the freecam (from otis_inf on Patr.eon) to dig because I am absolutely desperate. Hope you enjoy!

For my research purposes, I will be focusing on the parts of the rooms you don’t get to see normally, since the pool room and waiting room are explored enough in game... As well as a bunch of other things, wow this post got long LOL woops.

Okay, so, first off, I have said this before and I will say it again. This place is UGLY. But, I don’t get modern design, so we will move on from that. Second, the place is literally aesthetic only, I swear to you. There are at least 20+ different chairs/couches that you can see just in the main parts of the house. There’s no reason to have that much sitting space unless you either host people a lot, which I highly doubt he does, or its for design and nothing else. It doesn’t even include what we can’t see on the other side of the house, its just the rooms we CAN see. 

Its not a place you live, this is like a museum. Or office or some showroom.

The left side (facing the building) is the only part that I believe is the living space and it seems to be very small. But, knowing that Kamski has an appreciation for Japanese culture, and that I personally believe he’s absolutely a minimalist, this would make sense. He doesn’t need more than this small corner of the house for the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. 

Roughly this size which, like I said, is probably enough for him. It would be the size of basically a studio apartment except more utilized because the living room and dining room are the other side of the house. 

But, moving on from the outside. Now, nock-and-bolt showed us what was behind the door that Chloe walks through in the pool room, but what I am curious about now is the farthest right door in the waiting area.

I think I remember seeing concept art that made it out to be what looked like it could have been a room, there was a bookshelf behind the door. I always assumed it was a home office or something, and its what I personally have worked with in my headcanons. But, nope. Thats actually wrong. 

Its just another hallway into this main living room. Which makes sense, sort of, if the kitchen and other things are on the other side of the waiting area. So you don’t always have to walk through the pool room to get to the other side of the house. But, whats super neat, that I love about this, is the stuff on the shelf here. Its just a few things but boy are they interesting. 

A floral vase and a couple weird, modern art pieces. I really don’t like Elijah’s style, I can’t stress that enough here, but its again clear how much of a minimalist he is. But, there is also one more thing:

What looks like some sort of Greek inspired vase the highest on the shelves. I did a bit of research to figure out what its supposed to be and what I could find seems to be referring to a nostos, which is “is a theme used in Ancient Greek literature, which includes an epic hero returning home by sea.” Which I only found from reading about Odysseus who was most known for his own nostos that took his 10 “eventful” years after the decade long trojan war, the subject of the Odyssey, one of two major ancient Greek epic poems attributed to Homer.

Crucial themes in the poem include the ideas of nostos (νόστος; "return"), wandering, xenia (ξενία; "guest-friendship"), testing, and omens. Scholars still reflect on the narrative significance of certain groups in the poem, such as women and slaves, who have a more prominent role in the epic than in many other works of ancient literature. This focus is especially remarkable when considered beside the Iliad, which centres the exploits of soldiers and kings during the Trojan War.

I am pretty sure the symbolism in the game is pretty obvious by this point, but this is just interesting because the vase is not something anyone would EVER see in the game. Its behind a door you can’t open, that never opens, and tucked away in the corner you would never see. But, it is still important for Elijah Kamski as a character. Assumed trials and tribulations, as well as the 10 year gap? Its just too coincidental. But, thats a whole other story honestly, and I don’t really know the most about Greek Mythos to be talking about it right now. 

Some other small things from this weird house that I thought were interesting. Just textures really, but detail. The marks on the cellos may be my favorite because it means they’re being used. Probably played in that chair sitting beside them. 

ALSO THIS? Theres one chair that isn’t pushed in equal with the others. ONE. Its literally like an inch out further than the other 7 chairs. Someone was sitting there recently. 

Now, these are interesting. because they--

--are literal tubes. I’m assuming these are for the androids. Maybe where they go when they aren’t in use or doing something. Or just. Charging? Stations? I don’t know, it could literally be a spawn point for them, but I think they are purposely placed and its interesting to me that they are placed like pedestals in front of the tv. Like he just likes to look at them standing there. Like a weirdo. 

Now we have this door. This door that I thought went somewhere because I didn’t notice it from the outside before but. Nope. It just goes outside. 

So I watched a video recently that was someone looking at $40 million NYC apartments and I realize what this door must be. Its the only way to get fresh air in this bitch. None of the other windows are made to be opened, anywhere in this villa. So, there has to be one. Its just weird to me that its at the far end overlooking the pier. 

I just have a love hate relationship with this place. Its aesthetic, but the aesthetic is modern and weird. This place, what we can see of it, is not a living space. This is an office. What you show off to show how much money you have. I’m curious what this place looks like during the Kamski ending. All dark even though I think all these lights he has on are NEVER turned off. We shall see...

Also when Chloe goes to talk to Elijah she stands at this door and doesn’t move until shes ready again. He’s spawned in the pool by this point. Sure, when she goes to open the door again, she appears a few steps back so she can walk up to it, but my heart wants to believe she was told to just stand there and make them wait LOL. 

There was also a very human reaction from Chloe when Connor appeared to be standing in her way. I had stepped in so Kamski would start swimming and went behind the door to see where Chloe got the robe from (im sure she just pops it out of thin air because its just floating under the house) but she didn’t force him to step aside for some reason, like she has done before. She just... Waited there behind him.  She reached behind her head, rubbed at her neck, motioned like she was impatient like... “God is this guy really going to just stand there and play with a quarter or is he going to move?” She even tapped her hand a couple times against her thigh. It was.... Strange to see.

In conclusion... Is there a conclusion? This is just a collection of things I discovered. If I find something else interesting, I will share. For now, thats all. uwu I went overboard and this is really long but.... I don’t call myself obsessed for nothing........

[locktobre]

bcbd thoughts

right away I see that this is only an hour long, so... it’s not a movie, then. it’s a one hour special, again. I feel like I’m already gonna miss the extra 20 minutes just like dolphin magic but we’ll see I guess. maybe it’ll be a mercy that it’s shorter.

the opening credits/dream sequence was nice. the animation on the city is decent, and the monochrome thing was kind of cool.

her being on stage reminded me a little of Eden, and then immediately I missed Eden so much. they would never let a version of Babs be a bitch now and that’s such a shame.

so now we’re joking about George tracking Barbie’s cell phone? bc that’s fine and not at all an invasion of privacy or anything. also, you can check flight statuses on the internet so that’s really not necessary. also, why the fuck didn’t Barbie call them once she got off the plane? or at least text? I always text or call my mom when I land, and frankly I’m not even as close to my mom as Barbie claims to be to her parents. and I did that when I was 17 traveling alone, too, so it’s not just something I do as an adult. it’s part of the responsibility of traveling to let ppl know that you got somewhere safe so they don’t worry about you. what the fuck Babs.

was that honking supposed to be like censoring the cabbie swearing bc I would love that. let the cabbie say fuck.

I still maintain that this “summer program” thing is bullshit and Babs should have been going off to college. I know they won’t let her grow up but it makes more sense than this does. also, you’re telling me there’s no summer programs for acting/whatever in LA? seriously? she HAD to go across the country for this? and her parents let her? they don’t even trust her! they said that 2 seconds ago! or is tracking her cell phone the reason she’s allowed to travel across the country (to Willows and Florida and Hawaii) by herself in the first place? I hate this I hate it so much already

The Handler Arts Academy... oh I’m feeling emotions

“luck’s got nothing to do with it. you worked your tail off for this” SHOW ME FOR WHEN, PLEASE. this could have been an actual arc of the show, a goal Barbie was working towards that could thread thru multiple episodes... but no. this came out of nowhere. I’m STILL saying that Amelia bought Barbie’s place here bc FUCK YOU SHOW

“I hope I’m good enough” you’re a mediocre rich white woman, you can do literally anything you want.

why is her guitar shoved in a cardboard box and not, idk, in a guitar case? that’s stupid. also, that’s an open cardboard box, so how did that travel on the plane? a closed cardboard box, fine. should be a suitcase, but fine. but this just makes no sense and I am not going to let it slide bc I hate this continuity and everything about it.

however, I will give Brooklyn a pass for the open cardboard box bc she literally lives in NYC and didn’t have to take a fucking plane to get here. she can carry it like that if she wants.

“as long as you don’t break [my leg], we’re good” I’ve already seen Brooklyn in a cast, so... does Malibu literally break her leg later on? even on accident... jesus christ.

is this Russian(?) custodian lady gonna be the antagonist/villain? bc I’m already not vibing with that. not at fucking all.

how the FUCK could they show up a day early? why would they not show up on the day they’re supposed to? that doesn’t make any sense! and if they’re NOT supposed to be there yet, then there would be no staff there to watch them, so they should have to come back tomorrow! they shouldn’t be allowed to be by themselves in a school like this! I’m assuming this is to facilitate a day of bonding without stupid things like classes in the way, but they could have written an orientation day or something in that would have made more sense, and as I said, I am not inclined to give them a pass on anything these days. fuck you all.

so, room assignments are alphabetical... I guess that kind of explains them being in the same room, altho it does feel coincidental that they wouldn’t be, like, in neighboring rooms. also they didn’t animate little signs on the other doors, even with nonsense text if they didn’t want to put other names up, so their door really sticks out for no reason. also, shouldn’t it say “Barbie Roberts & Barbie Roberts” or some other way of having both names on the door? also, if the school knows they have the same name, couldn’t they put middle initials or something? we know Malibu is Barbie M. Roberts, and I will generously assume that Brooklyn’s middle name is something else, so that would have been fine. this really feels like the administrators don’t give a fuck, and in a supposedly prestigious school, I don’t buy that.

so, Brooklyn has been training every summer in different programs, very intensely, to get in here... and Malibu trained on the internet. what have I been saying about Malibu’s white mediocrity? hmm?

even after that (lackluster) montage, it feels way too soon for “Before Us.” I don’t believe they’re best friends who warrant a song about their friendship. I don’t believe that at all.

I like the bald fashionista being on the billboard, that’s a nice touch.

Malibu bringing up her vlog like that gives me hives. she has already stated multiple times that she does that to help ppl, not for clout, and yet. here she is. being a fake ass bitch once again.

Brooklyn and Emmie’s story is already way more interesting than this and I’m pissed that’s just backstory.

LOVE that green-haired dude. idk where you’re going with that drum but godspeed my dude.

I’m assuming that’s Emmie incognito in the back, but... what’s she doing here if she’s already famous? pulling an Erika Juno?

Dean Morrison seems cool

(is it too early to ship Brooklyn x Emmie?)

if pets are allowed in this school, I’m SHOCKED Malibu didn’t bring Taffy. truly fucking shocked.

Rafa reminds me so much of Jacques Rousseau

“the only labels we believe in are designer” so Rafa’s gay, right? Barbie’s first gay character? I can only assume

the ballet thing still doesn’t make sense to me, if their goal is to be on Broadway. ballet is an entire art and discipline in itself.

fencing makes more sense, bc stage fighting is a thing.

‘work it’ is even funnier than I imagined. Malibu you’re such a fuck up. and I can’t even cut you some slack bc earlier you said your training was “internet.” you didn’t work for this and you don’t belong here. die.

if this was PCS, Malibu would have been kicked out already. YOU WERE NOT PREPARED FOR THIS. WHAT HAVE I BEEN SAYING FOR MONTHS.

so, the ‘work it’ montage clearly showed the passage of time, it’s been at least a week, and... Malibu hasn’t talked to Ken at all during that time? this is the first time she’s telling him about Brooklyn?

ok, confirmed to be a week. and she hasn’t talked to Ken. of course. they are so close of course she hasn’t talked to him in a week, especially when she’s been struggling so much and would need to vent to a friend about it. of course.

so, Emmie is pulling an Erika Juno. at least she’s in disguise.

jesus christ, they’re really having Emmie be exploited by her own father??? JESUS.

ok Brooklyn x Emmie is sailing.

Brooklyn’s mom is an airline pilot, that sounds cool.

so the dresses are powered by the magic of friendship? cool. that’s stupid.

of COURSE Emmie’s dad is the board member. jesus christ I hate this dude.

okay, so she DIDN’T break her leg, it’s only a sprain. thank god. poor green-haired drum dude.

saying “epic fail” in 2021 unironically is not cool, mattel. unless I’m even more out of touch with the youth than I thought, but I’m pretty sure about that.

wait, so Brooklyn was dancing... and now she’s on crutches again? what is this montage? they fucked up here.

of all things to kick Malibu out for, they’re saying she pushed Brooklyn? why not all the fuck ups in her first week?

also, Rafa was taping that class so how do they not bring that up immediately? that’s the whole reason they were dancing over there in the first place! (so he might not have caught anything, but still, I have to assume that’s going to fix this bc that’s what these movies do.)

I really like Malibu’s leather jacket look, but she does look a little bit old I think. Brooklyn’s leggings look is nice, too.

okay, so Brooklyn suddenly believes the unnamed witness over the girl she sang ‘before us’ with? okay. I told you this friendship was a crock of shit. they don’t trust each other at all! Brooklyn should have been angry when she first fell, and it builds to thinking that she was sabotaged, but she brushed it off... and now she’s pissed. that makes no sense.

this friendship breakup song also means nothing to me bc their friendship fell apart for such a stupid reason. fate didn’t tear you apart, you tore yourselves apart by not trusting each other. stupid little children.

if Brooklyn’s ankle isn’t completely healed aka still painful, she should not be dancing on it, she could injure herself more or at least prolong the healing process.

ok, so NOW, after Malibu has already been expelled and sent back home, they remembered the video. these kids are so fucking stupid. and of COURSE the unnamed witness is Mr Miller! Emmie, you ALREADY KNOW that your dad is shady as shit and wants you to get the Spotlight Solo! HOW DID YOU NOT PUT THIS TOGETHER IN 5 SECONDS? I DID

so, Mr Miller thought Malibu was Emmie’s biggest competition for the solo? Malibu, the spectacular fuck up? not Brooklyn? or any of the background extras? I refuse to fucking believe that. I REFUSE.

how did George and Margaret just let Malibu get expelled without flying out there to fight the charge? seriously?

how is is Brooklyn singing ‘before us’ in-universe such that Malibu recognizes it? you’re breaking the conventions of musicals! I don’t get this!

I like Brooklyn’s mom being a pilot less after it’s been used to facilitate this bullshit part of the plot.

again, just “Barbie Roberts” makes no sense. where’s a middle initial to differentiate them! SOMETHING! I know they’re doing the finale together, but still, it’s STUPID.

shipping Rafa x green-haired drummer dude bc I can

where’s the Emmie doll for this movie?????? I’m so disappointed. also the other outfits, the leather jacket and leggings ones, I swear those weren’t dolls either. what the fuck

I see more fashionistas on billboards at the end! I really like that

so the custodian wasn’t a villain... then why that introduction for her? that went nowhere

is “Big City Big Dreams” supposed to be Emmie’s song? that Malibu lips-synced to on her vlog (apparently)? I can’t tell by the voice and they don’t list the voices for the songs in the credits

overall, once again it largely made no sense. idk if it would have benefitted from 20 extra minutes of screentime bc nothing really happened.

also, what the fuck happened to Mr Miller? he just keeps on exploiting his daughter? and for that matter, what happened to Emmie’s mom? bc she lived with her, and then all of the sudden her dad was in her life again and exploiting her, so... what did mom die? did he kill her? what am I supposed to think? and Emmie’s STILL stuck in that situation? girl. what the fuck

also of course they were too cowardly to confirm anything about Rafa. of course.

[ladyloptr]

•The Noisy Neighbor•

Request: twt@LOKIBARBZ (So, we literally had a whole discussion over this, therefore, I’ll just make a summmary of this.) Loki moves into an apartment in NYC, recently being officiated as an Avenger after some pleading from Thor. He is comfortable in his apartment, as it’s nice and quiet, until a loud new neighbor moves in next door. He slowly goes mad, until one day he seeks to end the nonsense once and for all.

Fandom: MCU AU

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Hate-Sex, Rough-Sex, Angry-Sex, Hair Pulling, Scratching, Choking, Degradation/Name Calling.

{————}

Loki isn’t sure what he expected to be greeted with when he returned to Midgard with his older brother. After the attack on New York City, he wasn’t foolish enough to think they’d welcome him with open arms.

Then again, it’s not like he had much of a choice in coming here.

After waiting in his cell for nearly a year, he was finally placed on trial. They sentenced him to serve his punishment on Midgard, to help The Avengers in their efforts to protect their realm. Among the many different options that the Æsir courts could’ve picked, he’s merely grateful to still be alive.

The Avengers, of course, wouldn’t allow him to take up residency in the tower as a result of his last visit ending in Tony being tossed out of a window. Thankfully, Tony, at the very least, agreed to find him his own apartment somewhere nearby and pay his rent, so long as he behaves himself.

The apartment complex is very nice, and most importantly, quiet. Tony rightfully assumed that it would be wiser to house the God of Chaos in a quiet environment where he’d be least likely to interact with neighbors. The last thing they need right now is for Loki to take it upon himself to permanently silence his Midgardian neighbors for making too much noise.

For a long time, this arrangement worked. Loki typically walks to the tower with headphones in, playing an array of Norwegian music, most of it sung by the artist Aurora. Her music reminds him of home, so he is quite appreciative of her work.

Thor sometimes questions his reasoning for walking instead of teleporting, but Loki finds the walk to be very calming, considering he leaves the apartment early enough to avoid pedestrian traffic. Then late at night, he walks back to his apartment, headphones in, still somewhat aware of his surroundings. Despite what The Avengers constantly say about the city at nighttime, robbery or any kind of assault is of little concern to Loki, considering-well-he’s a literal deity.

Slowly, The Avengers began to warm up to him, with the obvious exception of Natasha and Clint, who are always suspicious of everything. Loki eventually found that he favors the company of Bucky and Wanda, as opposed to the constantly annoying presence of Tony or the self-righteousness of Steve. He also prefers to keep a fair distance from Bruce, much to Bruce’s understanding.

Nothing was amiss, everything was going pretty well.

Until, a new neighbor moves in next door.

Generally, Loki doesn’t care for the ordinary Midgardians that roam the city, he finds them to be incredibly shallow and rather dull. None of them intrigue him in the slightest, and he finds that many of them have an ornate ability to talk much, but at the same time say absolutely nothing.

However, he swears to The Norns that you, the girl who just moved in next door, have been designed specifically to get a rise out of him.

Loki has always been known for his patience and tolerance of others. Even at this chaotic stage in his life, it still truly takes much to get him to snap, but you seem to be naturally gifted at winding him up.

For one, you purposely went out of your way to introduce yourself to him. You went out of your way to bother him, when none of the other neighbors dared to acknowledged him.

Maybe if he were younger he would’ve enjoyed the attention, but now? This Loki likes not being acknowledged, he likes being left alone, and doesn’t care about whoever else is living in this apartment complex.

He doesn’t even really remember what you were saying to him, he just remembers blankly staring down at you for a few minutes and then impolitely shutting the door in your face.

(Unbeknownst to either of you, back on the Bifrost, Heimdall let out a chuckle of amusement.)

Secondly, you’re just too bloody loud. You talk loud, your footsteps are loud, and you play loud music well into the night until one of the other neighbors have to come knocking on your door to tell you to keep it down.

He overheard you rattling off to one of your neighbors in the lobby, and unsurprising to him, you’re pretty young, twenty four, just graduated from NYU, and you have a degree in fashion design-whatever that means. Loki isn’t well informed on Midgardian credentials, and he’d rather not ask Thor (who has a better grasp on degrees thanks to Jane), lest his brother misunderstand his curiosity for infatuation.

Mentally childish, cheery, loud, and obnoxious.

All the things Loki doesn’t like, compressed into one tiny person.

You make him want to turn you into a mouse whenever you’re nearby, and when you speak, sometimes he wishes he could just take a knife and cut out your vocal cords.

It’s such a shame that he finds you so attractive, if only he could tear your face off and place it on another, quieter woman.

On the flip side, you aren’t particularly fond of him either. He always comes off as rude and dismissive. You are convinced he’s the spirit of an old grumpy senior citizen wearing the skin of a beautiful young man.

So, tensions continue to escalate over the course of four months. The loud music, the loud talking, the loud everything.

He could just ask Tony to move him to another apartment complex the moment you began to stoke the fire, but he would rather not concede defeat. Eventually, you’ll be asked to move, with how loud you are and how often you inconvenience the others around you.

But, another month passes and it still hasn’t happened yet.

He’s not sure how long he can put up with this nonsense.

Six months became his limit, after you tested his patience on the wrong day.

That afternoon, Doctor Doom had infiltrated The Avengers tower looking to steal technology from Tony. Doom easily brushed aside the team’s efforts to prevent him from getting anywhere near the lab. With Thor temporarily lending his assistance to Asgard, The Avengers were without one of their strongest members. Loki eventually managed to subdue him, but his seidr was almost completely spent. He was left feeling fatigued and rather irrate.

When he finally returned to his apartment, he was greeted with some much needed peace and quiet. He fell asleep on the couch, too tired to get undressed from his armor or walk to his bedroom.

It wasn’t until you returned home late from a runway show, that his peace was interrupted. He could quite clearly hear your vain and vulgar Midgardian music playing loudly in your apartment nearby.

“I said certified freak.”

“Seven days a week.”

“Wet ass pussy.”

“Make that pull out game weak!”

Finally fed up, Loki exits his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him, and stomping to your front door. He knocks loudly and frantically, eager to get you to shut off that stupid music.

Hearing the knocking on the door, you quickly pause your music, knowing that it’s probably one of your irritated neighbors again. When you open your door, you are greeted with the sight of a scowling deity. You tilt your head and smile at him brightly. “Well, Loki, how may I help you?”

“You may help me by shutting off that incessant, vain, rhythmless dribble you call music.”

“It’s the national anthem. I am paying homage to our country’s independence.”

Loki grimaces, leaning in slightly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“No, but I take you for someone with an old man mentality.” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not Bill Clinton in a skin suit?”

“It is one in the morning and some of us are tired.” Loki hisses. “Mortals. Always only concerned with themselves, so selfish and blind to the needs of others.”

“Selfish and blind? You’re one to talk.” You cross your arms. “Didn’t you kill like, hundreds of people when you invaded New York City because you wanted a throne?”

Loki’s eyes narrow dangerously at you, as you slowly cross into no-man’s land.

You pout and pretend to cry. “Boohoo, I am Loki, I was born into a rich family, and I was given everything I ever wanted except a throne.” You pretend to wipe your eyes. “So I killed hundreds of innocent humans because I wanted to be king.”

“You have no idea what you speak of, mortal.” Loki growls, his voice low and grave now. He steps forward, passing through your doorway. “You know nothing of me, or what I am capable of.”

“And what are you capable of, Loki?” You ask. “Besides killing hundreds of innocent people because your daddy didn’t like you, of course.”

You are caught off guard when Loki pulls the door shut behind him and locks it. He immediately pins you against the wall by your arms, and glowers down at you.

“Scared, mortal?”

“No.” You answer truthfully. “You don’t scare me anymore. If you really wanted me dead, you would’ve done it already. You’ve gone soft.”

He growls at you, and leans forward, pressing his lips against yours. You hardly have any time to react as he forces his tongue into your mouth. He’s actually surprised when you begin to fight him for dominance, your tongue aggressive pushing against his, and your teeth nibbling on his lips. Eventually, you have to give up your fight, your need for oxygen cutting your fight short.

“Such a shame, a pretty face like yours bound to someone with such an ugly personality.” Loki’s hands release your wrists and slowly travel down to grip your hips.

“Hypocrite.” You say. “Between the two of us, you’re the one with the ugliest personality.”

“You dare to speak to a god in such a way.” Loki groans lowly, grinding himself up against you. You gasp, feeling his erection pressing up against you. “I’ll have you know, where I come from, you’d be punished.”

You let your fingers get tangled in his hair and then you tug on it. You grin as he lets out a soft moan. “Are you telling me you’d like to punish me?”

“I am unsure.” His hands travel up your shirt, and cup your breast. You’re internally grateful that you decided to ditch your bra today. “I have a feeling you’d enjoy it too much.”

Loki stills as your hand travels between the two of you and gently massages the bulge in his pants. “Well, why don’t we find out?”

You yelp in surprise when Loki drags you by your arm to the kitchen. He pushes you to bend over the kitchen counter, pulls your pajama pants down, along with your panties.

A sharp gasp escapes you when he shoves two long fingers inside of you and pumps them steadily inside of you. He continues this until your wetness is practically running down your thighs.

You hear him unbuckle his belt behind you, and soon, he flips you around, so you’re now lying on your back on the counter. You close your eyes as you feel his cock pressing up against your entrance.

“I’m going to break you, fragile mortal.” Loki growls. “I’m going to break you, and relish the moment you come undone underneath me.”

You let out a chuckle, which only serves to irritate him. He enters you in one swift thrust, and you whimper as you feel him stretch you out more than you ever have before.

Loki wraps his fingers around your throat, and begins thrusting hard and fast. He hisses as you drag your nails hard against his neck.

“You should be worshipping me, mortal.” He growls. “You should feel honored that I’m here splitting your quim instead of resting, like I wanted to do.”

“Oh, fuck you spoilt rich brat!” You snap at him.

“Oh, but I am fucking you.” Loki chuckles darkly, tightening his grip around your throat. “And when I’m done, you’ll be positively ruined for any mortal man who tries to lay with you.”

“Bold of you to assume you can make me cum with that weak dick of yours.”

You let out a lewd moan when he changes his angle, his cock head brushing up against your g-spot.

“You were saying, whore?”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re the whore, coming here to fuck someone you don’t even like.”

Loki groans, watching as his cock is literally splitting your cunt. “You asked for this, you stupid girl.”

When you begin to feel a familiar tightening in your stomach, you start to claw and scratch at him, not willing to let him push you over the edge.

“Fight me all you wish to, mortal.” Loki groans in your ear. “You’re going to cum for me, whether you like it or not.”

“I hate you!” You practically scream at him.

“I hate you as well, but here we are.”

You gasp and moan as you feel the coil in your stomach snap. You are somewhat thankful that Loki choking you is preventing you from screaming at the top of your lungs. Loki grunts loudly as he falls over the edge after you, his hips stuttering to a stop as he releases inside of you.

You both stay like that for a few minute, your back on the counter and cum oozing onto your thighs, and Loki resting some of his weight on top of you.

“I might just retire in here for tonight.” Loki grumbles. “I am completely spent.”

“So tired from one round that you can’t walk back to your own apartment?” You chuckle. “You have shitty stamina for a god.”

“I was tired before I arrived here. I said this already.”

You roll your eyes. “Then you should’ve gone to sleep instead of coming here.”

“I wouldn’t have come here if you hadn’t been playing your music loud enough for Asgard to hear!” Loki snaps, biting at your neck in annoyance. You wince. “You’re an obnoxious wrench. It’s a wonder how you haven’t been asked to move elsewhere.”

“The landlord is my mother.”

Loki is silent for a few moments, now absolutely livid. The landlord is your mother?!

“I’ll be having words with your mother, then.”

You laugh. “You can try. Who do you think I got all of my obnoxious traits from?”

You hear Loki scowl next to you, and nip you on the neck again. “You Midgardian women are bothersome.”

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

okay i’m going to go off about celebs again…. but like…. does anyone remember the gross asf vitriol that went around in 2011-2013 about justin bieber where the joke was “more like justINE bieber am i right??? 😂😂😅😅” from the “haters” of him. i, myself, actually joined in on this; considering that i thought that liking all the emo shit i was into made me “more mature than belibers” or some other absolutely batshit backwards bullshit that i would’ve spat out at the time to sound “edgy” and “NoT LiKe OtHeR GiRlS 👩🏻‍🎤👩🏻‍🎤”….. when in my group at catholic school, i had two girls in my group that were belibers themselves lol. i honestly made zilch sense.

but like to rest on this a bit, what the actual fuck was up with this joke???? why the fuck did the whole world just gang up on this teenage boy, who through no fault of his own, was still going through puberty…. so of course his voice was still going to be high??? and then the weird fucking speculation some fucking gross ass literal grown up adult people had back then of “when do you/we think his balls are going drop, so that we wont be call to be able to call him justine bieber anymore 😅😭??? just let us have our fun??!!” like what the FUCK??? why did everyone think that this was their business??? it wasn’t his fault in a sense that he stumbled into usher and got signed.

like….. no wonder justin’s had several breakdowns over the years. i would too. because how the fuck would you deal with this???? people just throwing out so casually this horrible fucking vitriol that they think you’re a girl OR think that you should get a sex change because it’s obviously a lie that he’s a boy/man OR think that you’re not “just a butch lesbian disguised as a 16yo boy” (these were legit other arguments at the time). like he was a KID for fucks sake. who the fuck asks to go through puberty in the fucking spotlight???? fucking N O O N E thats fucking who. like obviously he’s had a myriad of meltdowns and bad publicity over the years since. but this bullshit would’ve been so fucking horrible to take during the shitty years of puberty and high school to boot. obviously, in the years since, he’s done roast battles with jokes about this, so it’s good that he was able deal with it and joke about it, albeit eventually.

but i would’ve absolutely fucking hated to have all my pubescent behaviour and changes being fucking aired and speculated on in public view, for completely random people, famous or not, to comment on and make fun of. like i’ve talked before about the trouble i had with my period in my teens. i would’ve LOATHED to have that shit aired as it happened, on a red carpet for example. or as im accepting an award or just let alone performing at a show. just mid speech or mid performance. i would’ve bled (leaked) onto an expensive costume or provided expensive designer dress (or my own clothes/outfit) because my flow for a particular month/week was uber heavy. or god forbid, i wouldve thrown up mid-press-junket-interview on air or almost fucking passed out as well, depending on how my cycle/ovaries/hormones were feeling during a particular month/week.

like this is besides my point in a sense, but still. i would’ve had this aired and speculated on if i’d been catapulted to fame at the same time as bieber (and keep in mind, he is literally only a year older than me). but my period struggles would have been spun as “are you SURE this GIRL isn’t a BOY who knows nothing about period products??? does she know ANYTHING about pads & tampons so she WON’T bleed onto her dress or the like??? what a lazy, disgusting “girl”!” or “does she KNOW just how WEAK she is for NOT controlling her period pain??? how dare she pass out mid-show??? does she know she’s FAKING IT??? what a weak person, just GET UP and PERFORM, MONKEY because PERIODS ARENT THAT BAD!!! just think like a MAN and your period pain will go away!” or some other bizarre speculative bullshit that has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else.

when unbeknownst to anyone, i would’ve had about 5 advil tablets to both deal with my utterly unbearable period pain and unfathomably blinding and mind-numbing hormonal period headache, right before the said event or interview or whatever the fuck celeb duty i was carrying out. i would’ve had heat pads on, i would have been dizzy when arriving to and leaving from sets, etc etc etc. and finally, i would’ve been incredibly tired during all of this…… because of how much my periods fucked me around as a teen, to the point that some nights i couldn’t even fucking sleep properly. or the only reprieve i would get from the pain would be the aforementioned 5 advil tablets and an all day nap. on top of all this, i probably would’ve had to BEG (all because video call interviews weren’t particularly popular back then) for some like video call interview type thing from my bedroom or home studio or whatever, just to avoid going into an actual studio & set so i could just lay in bed or sit somewhere comfortable for the whole interview. and again etc etc etc because of all the other problems i had with my periods in my teens til my early fucking 20s, that i’ve mentioned several times on/in various posts on this hellsite over the years.

and the same goes for female stars like sasha pieterse from PLL when she opened up about her struggle with PCOS, and halsey with sharing her struggle with endometriosis. i would’ve hated to go through those medical conditions in the spotlight. i feel for them. it’s also the same thing with boobs: where the most famous example in recent years is ariel winter from modern family….. with how she needed a breast reduction because her boobs were giving her back problems and stuff, because she was like an F cup or something. and she also hated the creepy ass comments she was getting from gross dudes about how nice her boobs were or whatever the fuck, even while she was still a teen on the show.

anyway. back to bieber. i only say this because literally like last year or in 2019, the bieber joke appeared in my feed again in the first time in YEARS and i ended up tagging one of my old catholic school friends like “how the fuck do people still think this is funny?? it’s so 2011. and come to think of it, it was never funny in the first place anyway”. like both the media and the public had absolutely no right to speculate this shit and invade a young teen boy’s privacy like this??? it was so fucked up. idk why i didn’t make a post about it at the time…. but it also came into my mind just now because i commented on a post about justin bieber the other night about how he’s had fans stalk him to his nyc apartment again. like when the actual fuck will people fucking learn to let celebs have their goddamned privacy lmao.

[therappundit]

Top 10 Rappers of 2020

The finish line of this long, surreal year is finally upon us...which means that it’s time for me to throw down the gauntlet in the ‘Best of 2020’ frivolous list race!  🙌

*Just to be clear*: this is a list of MCs who I believe turned in the best overall performances in 2020. ***This is NOT a list of the my top 10 favorite MCs***, or even who I believe to be the best MCs in the world at the moment...these are simply dope artists that put forth the strongest, most consistently interesting and important (to the genre) high-quality work in the perilous year that was 2020. 

If you think your favorite MC was slighted....well, Michael Jordan is the greatest to ever play the game of basketball but even he didn’t win MVP every year, right? I encourage you to write your own list - it’s a cool way to dap artists that are too often overlooked by industry websites, and share the music you enjoy with others that may not have given the record a spin otherwise.

Even if 2020 didn’t bring you the “instant classic” you had been hoping for, I think it’s hard to deny that this year really had impressive depth when it came to showcasing some of the most diverse music that the genre has to offer.  I can’t speak for music in general - sadly I’m just The Rap Pundit, not The Music Pundit - but I can say that it has been an impossible task to keep a playlist less than 500 songs deep at a time, because for every truly great release in 2020 there seemed to be 30 very good releases. 👌

So how did I come about these 10 MCs (and Honorable Mentions)? Before you get huffy about who I snubbed (and that is pointed directly at my jury of older head peers that consider themselves tastemakers, but also haven’t opened their minds up to any new takes on rap styles since the year 2000)...here are the five chief pieces of criteria that I put into finalizing my list:

- quality (whatever lane you’re in, how often did you ‘own it’?)

- quantity (at least 10 very good-to-great songs released, and 3-4 verses that stand out as a ‘must-hear’ for any rap music fan)

- consistency (not just 4-5 great features and a few forgettable solo tracks, will I want to keep at least 7 or 8 of your own new songs released in 2020 in my rotation for 2021?)

- impact (are you so vital to the type of rap music you make that if you stopped rapping tomorrow, there’s no one else in the game that could fill that void?)

- “it” factor (are you carried by a co-sign or an elite production team, or did you bring a style/talent to the table that could carry a record in and of itself?)

Got it? Then here we go...

1. Conway the Machine

I hope 2020 was the type of year that Conway the Machine had been hoping for since he first began his journey with rap music. After years of scraping and hustling towards music industry recognition (and not just cult figure status), at year’s end we see Griselda’s top Lieutenant holding down a rare balancing act: champion of underground hip-hop, and most requested feature by any mainstream rap star looking to add some tough-talking muscle to their album.

While much of Conway’s content has always been driven by surviving an attempt on his life in 2012, much like 50 Cent, Conway’s way with words and perspective manage to elevate the quality of his material to a higher tier than most. And where - at least in his heyday - 50 Cent benefited from an indestructible super-villain persona, Conway’s success can be greatly attributed to a larger-than-life heart.  With every braggadocious act of gunplay, there are moments of gratefulness to still being alive to share success with his brethren, as well as a painful longing to be with close allies that are no longer with him (at least not in the physical form).

Above all else, in 2020 Conway the Machine did what he has always done throughout his career: delivered well written, passionate bars about coming up in an impossibly challenging environment and coping with loss...only now his craftsmanship and understanding of how to channel all of those feelings into a more polished final product have yielded the most well-rounded solo project of his career in From King to a God. Progress is a slow process, but the long and winding road has finally taken Conway a step closer to that G.O.A.T. status he will hopefully continue to reach for...

Best Evidence: FKTG, and a countless number of scene-stealing verses alongside rap acts ranging from deep underground to household names

2. Freddie Gibbs

I don't use the word "sauce" all too often (this may actually be the first time), but if there was any MC guaranteed to bring sauce to any rap record right now, it's Freddie Gibbs. 

Forever existing somewhere between gritty gangsta and syrupy old soul, the flavor that Freddie brings to every verse is malleable enough to work on virtually any type of record, which was certainly proven in 2020. Anyone foresee a Gibbs & Alchemist Grammy nomination heading into 2020? It’s a testament to how high quality work, through consistent reliability and dues paid, can elevate a project from underground niche following to critical acclaim. While his work with Alchemist may not reach the lofty levels of his heralded collaborations with Madlib, Alfredo represents the best that “quarantine music” can offer...two talented friends saying one day, “hey we should finally drop a full tape together, why not?” - and then BOOM, it happens.

Too many fail to remember that Gibbs already has a long accomplished body of work behind him...so the fact that he may just be entering his prime now, is scary.

Best Evidence: Alfredo, Machinedrum’s “Kane Train”

3. Boldy James

Comeback MC of the year, and no it is not close (but big shout-out to Grafh, another dope MC who had an amazing year).

I'm old enough to remember when folks like Roc Marciano and Ka were seen as sleepy, monotone rappers with little hope of reaching permanent rap icon status (flash-forward to today, and they are widely consider geniuses). For some, the quieter, less hook-dependent approach to making rap songs, was....well, not great rap music. They were wrong then and they’re wrong now, but similar to how the coolest, smartest cat in the room is rarely the loudest, it can take some time and patience before everyone learns what’s what. Time is what is required to appreciate Detroit’s Boldy James, a veteran that has been through it - both in terms of the ups and downs of the music business, as well as the streets through which he draws his stories and inspiration.

Boldy makes it seem all too easy, rapping his verses with the cool, casual tone of telling old stories to a close friend over drinks. Dropping multiple projects (with one still to come) in one year can often lead to over-saturation. Even the most dedicated fans/stans can begin to feel less enthusiastic about new releases when they have already received a healthy portion of more of the same...but most rap fans are not necessarily Boldy James fans. Boldy fans (much like Roc Marciano and Ka fans) are already aware that knowing what type of material to expect from your favorite MC can be a blessing if that MC takes pride in the execution of the final product, rather than the noise leading up to it. 

The beauty of his collaboration with The Alchemist (big year for that guy, huh?), The Price of Tea in China, is that it celebrates the more subtle nuances of boom-bap, proving that great MC and producer chemistry can trump the “shock & awe” of more uptempo rap music. The shock in Boldy James’ lyrics sits within the detailed descriptions of the cold world he grew up in...so monotone or not, how can any music could be more gripping than that?

Best Evidence: TPOTIC, Manger On McNichols, a long list of consistently perfect feature verses

4. 42 Dugg

I would say this is more of a longterm investment rather than the celebration of a rapper already within rap’s inner circle, but 42 Dugg didn’t just steal the show on every feature this year, he also displayed maturity in his ability to craft well-rounded, high quality rap singles. I’m talking joints that work just as well on the street tape level as they would at the radio level. That is especially rare to see from a rapper that is still relatively new to national conversations. 

So much more than just a co-sign of Lil Baby and Yo Gotti, the Detroit eastsider has already proven that he can craft a full solo album with the swagger of a far more seasoned MC. 42 Dugg combines a Boosie-esque, "oh you think you’re better than me??” chip on his shoulder with the unpredictable bombast of Lil Wayne. What he may lack in punchlines he makes up for in musicianship, his voice bringing one of the most nimble touches to trap music that I have heard in a long time. 42 Dugg music is hard and soulful, with the natural hunger of a rapper that knows me might be one smash away from superstardom. By this time next year, I’m betting he will be. 

Best Evidence: Young & Turnt 2 (Deluxe), features on high profile records like Lil Baby’s “Grace” and “We Paid”, and a growing stream of attention grabbing solo loosies

5. Rome Streetz

In 2020 it was almost impossible to be an underground MC with a great project unless you landed a Rome Streetz verse. 

Rome has been bubbling for a while now, but in 2020 he unleashed an onslaught on the game. At times he seemed like the hardest working MC in underground circles, busting his ass to not only make as many appearances as possible, but also to own any song he guested on. He raps like every verse might be “the one” that gets him a huge contract, and that’s a level of hunger and consistency that will likely land him more than one huge contract someday. In spite of that laundry list of strong features, the young Brooklyn MC still managed to release multiple dope solo projects, all flashing a rap style that feels at once a throwback and the fresh voice NYC rap needs. 

Rome is clearly from the same school as many of the New York City greats, because he has the capacity to deliver dark, potent bars with the sharp intellect of a Harvard lecture (think AZ before “Sugar Hill”). While he sounds most at home when he’s rhyming over instrumentals that run more coldblooded than a horror flick, it’s easy to picture him popping up in more places in 2021...if that’s even possible.

Best Evidence: Noise Kandy 4, Kontraband, The Residue, and at least 50 incredible features with a who’s-who of the underground’s finest

6. Stove God Cook$

No one saw this coming....well, maybe Roc Marciano, Lord Jamar, Busta Rhymes and a few more NYC heads in the know - but I guarantee you, no one else saw the Stove God coming!

Bar for bar, no MC owned more rewind-worthy rap quotables in 2020 than Stove God Cook$. Dropping a solo debut with VERY little fanfare and zero features (apart from the steady, reliable guidance of Roc Marciano - low key one of hip-hop’s most reliable producers), a slow bubbling word of mouth campaign on social media eventually got Stove God verses exposed to more and more high profile ears. Such a grass roots campaign is rarely seen...I mean, a rap album slowly becoming a critical darling simply off the strength of more and more random folks discovering the music and Tweeting about it, as opposed to the buzz being calculated before the product??? It feels almost too good to be true these days, as early reviews of Reasonable Drought typically lead with something along the lines of, “hey, have you heard of this album? I have no idea who this is, but it is 🔥🔥🔥”

It has often been said that Roc Marciano has a lot of “sons” in the game, implying that Roc Marci gave birth to a style that a whole generation of underground MCs run with today. So it’s ironic (or perhaps highly appropriate?) that the next level of progression for Roc might be to have a protege, a young Jedi to carry on the tradition on Roc’s own terms, and become the next new star to be embraced by the old heads. But Stove God isn’t a clone of Roc, or anyone else, he’s simply one of the most exciting artists to hit the NYC underground in a generation. Everything from his word choice, to his fresh references and sense of humor, to his delivery and the way he structures his verses, feels like a collection of “firsts”, there’s simply no one sounding like him. And if his work in 2020 is any indication, he will continue to be in a league of his own for years to come.

Best Evidence: Reasonable Drought, spotlight snatching features alongside Roc Marciano and Griselda’s finest

7. Lil Baby

Once viewed by some as just another “Lil”, Lil Baby had been rollin’ coming into 2020, but by the end of 2020 it’s clear that he has arrived at the forefront of rap music’s most reliable hitmakers right now. 

A must-have feature on any rap album reaching for max exposure, Lil Baby’s dexterous flow, charisma, and pen that is significantly sharper than early reports indicated, made him one of the few shining stars in 2020 to consistently deliver good rap music to what in any other year would have been considered smash hits in any club.

What makes Lil Baby’s music standout is that he could easily be a “cookie cutter” MC, phoning in verse after verse just to get another check, but instead he continues to bring it - trying to squeeze in an extra catchy lyric, maybe flow in a way that breaks up a verse to make it stand out from the pack a little more - and even when he is featured over cookie cutter beats that sound like every other trap inspired beats that came before it, Baby seems eager to prove something. I think that’s what I like about him - he’s on a short list of mainstream-bred Young Thug disciples that seem to really want to put the work in to becoming one of the greats. 

Best Evidence: I mean...did any rap star have more songs in circulation this year? Dude was everywhere, but “The Bigger Picture” got his name officially into the lyricist conversation (even though personally I don’t even think it’s one of his more impressive records - at least not stylistically)

8. Westside Gunn

No one denies that the Griselda Records team had a banner year, yet somehow the vocal leader of the group managed to drop a handful of dope projects without receiving credit for being a great MC in his own right. Great artist, great album curator, great business man - sure, but great MC?? That credit is rarely given to the FLYGOD. He might not even understand how natural he is as a solo MC, waxing unpredictable flows and half-bars that stick in your mind in place of catchy hooks or predictable song structure. He might call himself an artist first, but I still call him one of the most prolific rappers today (regardless of whether he retires after the ball drops).

I can’t believe I have to tell rap fans this in the year 2020...but......you all know that message and punchlines are just part of the art of rapping, right...and not the only thing that defines who is a dope MC and who isn’t?? Play any solo cut from Westside Gunn and filter out the “doot-doot-doots” and stream of conscious hooks and what you are left with is one of the most distinctive voices in rap music, attempting off-kilter flows and phrases over some of the most impressive production in rap music today, and to me that sounds like my kind of rap music. What the Buffalo floor general lacks in diversity of subject matter he makes up for with a relentless imagination.

That’s why it’s not all that surprising to me that Westside Gunn enjoyed more mainstream attention in 2020 than he ever has before. All he needed was a window of exposure and he certainly capitalized on it, pitching his sound and his vision in all the right places, without compromising his style or vacating his lane. So strictly as a MC, I would consider him the Young Thug of the east coast underground scene, and if 2020 does turn out to be his final year of recording solo projects, I am thankful that he already has a long list of quality projects with high replay value to revisit again and again. But don’t wait - give this man his flowers now.

Best Evidence: “Euro Step”, “Rebirth”, “327″, “Shawn vs. Flair”, “Michael Irvin”, and YES he even had a more than worthy verse on “$500 Ounces” alongside Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano

9. Benny the Butcher

Who else is more reliable to deliver a dope feature verse than Benny?

By now you must be muttering at least a few things about me, so let me just make two points: YES, I am a big fan of Griselda records, but NO I do not consider that an unreasonable bias because even on paper according to a large variety of sources, it’s clear that Conway, Boldy James, Westside Gunn and Benny are true specialists when it comes to the quality of the work they distribute. Its not a fluke or a trend, they’re just that good at what they do...I have been saying this for almost 5 years now, but in 2020 the rest of you sleepy heads finally just stopped hitting snooze.

Benny the Butcher already possesses the writing capacity, attention to detail, and skills of observation/personal reflection to put himself within special company as one of the nicest pens in the business today. But in 2020, he dialed things up even higher...or perhaps word of mouth just finally caught up with the rest of his peers? The tribute to the classic Roc-A-Fella era that was his Burden of Proof project with Hit-Boy helped expose Benny to a much larger audience, and it has been beautiful to see so many more folks quoting and sharing his lyrics on Twitter, because I recall when he had about the same amount of Followers that I do, because it wasn’t all that long ago (I just hope they go back to experience all of his prior work - I’m still partial to his incredible verses on “Shower Shoe Lords” and “Pissy Work”)! 

In my not so humble opinion, I do think some of the more dramatic pomp and circumstance on the BOP album was more suited to a Rick Ross or Meek Mill than Benny, so I’m actually more excited to hear what Benny has in store for 2021. He truly sounds at his best over more minimalistic production that lets his lyrics fill the spotlight...but still, tracks like “Timeless” and “Legend” do remind me of some of my favorite moments from old JAY-Z albums...blasphemous, maybe, but true.

A shot to the leg last month seems to have done nothing to slow his momentum, so if you didn’t board the bandwagon by now, you are inexcusably late.

Best Evidence: Burden of Proof, mercilessly slaughtering every verse on every Griselda projects, and a ton of show-stealing features

10. Drakeo the Ruler

What a journey it's been for the L.A. rising star. 

Flexing a penchant for placing local slang into his music and delivering dark verses with a clear sense of humor, it's easy to see the appeal of Drakeo's style. If Thank You For Using GTL was an inspiring attempt to do anything possible to keep his buzz going (in that case, recording his verses over a prison phone), the quick release of We Know The Truth shortly after he regained his freedom seems to have given him a 50 Cent-esque teflon aura at the moment. 

But this is about more than just Drakeo himself, it’s about what he represented before incarceration, and what he represents now. As one of the more visible forces in a new generation of west coast hip-hop, Drakeo was a few key features away from exploding onto the national scene. Now after surviving his ordeal, likely with a great deal more to write about, his ceiling has only been raised - and along with his growth potential, so rises the potential for the current rap scene out in L.A. right now. Mark my words: by this time next year Drakeo’s flow will be one of the most flagrantly jacked flows in rap music coast to coast.

A sincere welcome home from the rap world, Drakeo the Ruler. Hopefully the worst is now behind you. 🙏

Best Evidence: We Know The Truth, Free Drakeo, Thank You For Using GTL

*Honorable Mentions*:

Che Noir, Ka, Ransom, Billy Woods, Royce Da 5′9″, Jay Electronica, Fly Anakin, Curren$y, Lil Uzi Vert, Roc Marciano, Skyzoo, Black Thought, Tee Grizzley, Your Old Droog, Flee Lord, Lil Wayne

[deniigi]

@pomegranate-belle and @puffins-studio have kindly convinced me to share with you all this little bit.

It’s of Electric Sheep but if Android Matt had a Mike who’s been looking for him since they were separated as youths (right before Matt started to become an android)

Title: Seventeen years

Summary: bounty hunter Mike has been taking jobs in nyc, searching for his lost twin. A chance encounter with a blonde woman who steals his heart helps him find him.

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

Seventeen years, ten months, 18 days.

Mike had lived out of the city longer than in it. Rochester was as close as he’d gotten in foster care, but work had dragged him through occasionally, and frankly he was grateful for it.

He’d told himself seventeen years ago that he’d get back.

So here he was, reflecting on life outside the cell of a guy screaming bloody murder.

Dude was a bot-trafficker.

The shit made some serious dough, Mike had seen it himself. But you know what else made some serious dough? Bounty hunting. I.e. Catching the people who got pissed off about other people makin’ some serious dough.

These days, they were all bot-traffickers. Mike could barely remember a time when he was chasing jewel thieves and counterfeiters down alleys anymore. It was all bot-this and bot-that—which, to be fair, was kind of the same thing as a jewel thief.

Property was where the real money was at. And bots? Hoo boy, the best kind could cost a penthouse.

Mike thought it was good for them that they had no idea how much they were worth. He found it kinda sweet if he was honest. This screamin’ bot dude’s collection of androids were all tucked up against each other in the other room, performing ‘maintenance’ on each other like a pile of cats. They were community-minded, bless ‘em. It made Mike smile a little bit.

Of course, so did the paycheck.

Yeah, the paycheck helped, too.

 --

 He got a job for the city. He took it without asking too many questions.

It didn’t matter how much city jobs paid, Mike always went ready for a double-shift there.

The last time he’d seen Matt had been when their social workers had untangled their hands at St. Agnes. Both of them had been wailing like toddlers, like they had been in front of Dad’s casket.

Up until that point, everyone had assured them that they’d be kept together—that no one was going to try to separate them. They were twins. People would understand that you couldn’t just take the one and leave the other. They had an unbreakable and psychic bond, clearly.

But then one day the social worker hadn’t answered Matt’s question when he’d asked about it again, seeking reassurance.

Mike’s stomach had dropped then. And sure enough, the next thing they knew, people were throwing around words like ‘specialty care’ and ‘high-risk’ and ‘better in the long-run.’

Mike had gone to a foster home screaming and fighting in the back of a sedan. Matty stayed behind, allegedly to be placed in some kind of group home with more ‘supportive’ care.

That was seventeen years ago--almost eighteen years ago.

Mike only knew what Matt looked like these days because he shaved every morning in the bathroom mirror. But, he told himself, not for much longer.

He hadn’t become a bounty hunter for the looks. He’d done it for the money and the job experience. Could he track a criminal? Hell yeah. He’d been one. He knew how they thought. More importantly: could he track a brother?

He could, actually. He was a Murdock; he knew how they thought.

 --

 The job in the city was whatever. Took half an hour and a big smile to corner the gal like a rat. She went to the highest bidder; Mike went back out on the prowl.

Chances were that Matt would be drawn to Hell’s Kitchen. And chances were that he would be searching for Mike as Mike was for him. He was an idealist like that. Like Mike.

Awwww. Old habits die hard.

 --

 Hell’s Kitchen had changed over the years, but it still felt like home when Mike put a foot in the boundaries. He knew these stoops and all these torn posters. He knew that skyline and that raggedy flag pole.

The names on the businesses changed—some got new lights, some got new windows, but all in all, the feel was still there.

 --

 He set out to find Matt in the old, old haunts. Stopped by the church. The old kids’ home. They still hadn’t seen him, no, Mike. Sorry, my son.

He took a waltz down memory lane by the docks.

He found the greasiest looking coffee shop he could and sat at a sticky table, people-watching through the huge half-wall windows for about an hour.

Nothin’ yet.

His coffee was cold when he left.

  --

He ran into a girl at a bar that night under green and red neon lights. They danced close. She told him he reminded her of someone she knew, and Mike thought that that was just a lovely coincidence, sugar, wasn’t it?

He invited her to his hotel room. She accepted.

He woke up to waves of amber grain strewn across this pillow, sticking to his lips, and the smell of something powdery and floral in the endless line of this lady’s neck.

God, she was like a swan. Mike ought to buy her breakfast.

He did because he was a gentleman. He left to go grab a sandwich from the bodega outside but came back to find the bed and the room empty. There was a little note on the pad next to the bed that said ‘thanks, handsome’ with a smile face next to it and a number.

He eased himself down on to the bed and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth to grin around.

  --

Her name was Karen.

It wasn’t their last night. Mike saw her when she was in the city and they had a well-worn routine after a few months.

Every time, a new bar, a new club, a new drink. But the same dance and then the same chase and collapse.

She told him nothing about herself, and he loved that about her. She passed fingers through his hair. She trailed them across his jaw, bristly stubble or no.

And then the next morning, she was gone, and Mike was sighin’ like a blue bird in spring.

 --

 Valentine’s Day found Mike in the city. He didn’t delude himself with thinking that Karen was available—he wasn’t that full of it.

But he did think that even a lady as lovely and possibly taken as Karen deserved a bouquet of flowers from a ‘friend.’ So he took a meander down to a wholesaler and chatted up one of the makers until a collection of spring tulips graced by baby’s breath found their way into his hands.

Karen, he suspected, worked somewhere in an office. Her ever-present, practical pencil skirt said so, and the way that she frequented Josie’s told him that she lived in the area around 9th and 52nd.

It wasn’t hard to snoop. It wasn’t hard to trawl through the local business websites in that area, peeking at staff pages until low and behold, the golden grail herself appeared smiling on try number 7.

He smiled back at her photo and went back to get the name of the place and the address only to pause in his tracks.

Nelson & Murdock.

Karen worked at a law firm called Nelson & Murdock.

Huh.

Well. Good for that Murdock. Mike hoped he was out when he brought these flowers in.

 --

 The firm was dinky and crammed up two flights of stairs across from an orthodontist’s office. Mike pitied Karen for having to spend her days watching droves of traumatized middle schoolers leave that place with wires crammed in their faces. The flowers even looked like they were wilting in the hallway.

Mike gave them a pep talk on his way to the door.

He knocked but no one answered, so he turned the knob and a handful of people where sat looking nervous in the waiting area. The front desk was empty. Abandoned.

Oh, Karen.

Ever at work like you are at play.

Mike made his way over the desk and caught sight of a familiar fluffy little ball on a keychain at the edge of the desk.

It was adorable.

He found a scrap of paper by the phone, reached over and snagged it and a pen to leave a little love note when he felt a tug at his elbow.

He forced down the irritation and turned back with a smile. An older lady with huge bifocals squinted at him.

“Mr. Murdock,” she said. “I’ve got to go move my car. Don’t you give up my place, you hear?”

Mike forced himself to hold his smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, madam.”

Murdock must have looked smooth as hell for Mike to have been mistaken for him.

The lady squinted left, right, and center, then scoffed and pinched his arm.

“Cheeky boy,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She left.

Mike’s brain short-circuited for another few seconds before declaring that whole situation unresolvable, bizarre, and emphatically not his problem. Sorry Nana. Go to the back of the line like everyone else.

He went back to writing his card.

“Matt?”

He didn’t mean to look up. It was a reflex, man. It came with the twin-territory, and this time it brought a moment of panic as Karen’s brow dropped stormily and her fists found her hips.

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been calling you all morning?” she demanded.

Mike’s palms started sweating.

Did Karen? Not? Recognize him?

Had he misread this whole love affair? Or maybe it was the daylight that was confusing her?

It had to be the daylight, right?

“Matt,” Karen said, irate as could be in that pretty blue and white top. “Don’t just stand there. Say something.”

Ahahahahahaha.

Too close. Too much.

“MATT.”

Out we go, back to the hovel from which we came.

  ---

He breathed out hard in the street below and turned back to look up at the window of Nelson & Murdock. It was flung open and he didn’t give Karen the opportunity to get her nose out of it. He hurried off into the crowd, ducking and squirming until he was sure that he was good and gone from sight.

Then he found an alley to clutch at his heart in.

It had been years since someone had called him Matt. Sometimes he took the name on as a false one, when working for especially shitty shit-heads. But Karen??

Mike was positive he’d introduced himself as Mike. ‘Michael’ but more like Costello than Abbott, he’d said. Karen had laughed.

What the fuck, man? What the fuck?

He looked at the flowers in his hand.

A waste.

Hhhng. Alright, well. There was for sure to be someone needing cheering up at a bar somewhere. Might as well spare them for the Singles Awareness Gigs sure to be happening soon.

  ---

He ended up at Josie’s because he always ended up at Josie’s, but this time with barely anyone in the place at 3pm on Valentine’s Day, she actually noticed him and gave him an eyebrow. He chose to ignore it in order to wallow in self-pity and raised his glass to his lips.

It didn’t make it.

He stared in stunned silence at the hand suddenly covering his glass.

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea, pal,” Josie said.

Mike gaped at her in shock.

“I? Paid for this?” he said.

There was a long moment of awkward silence.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Josie said. “My bad. I thought you were someone else.”

Someone else?

Someone—

WAIT.

“Someone else? Does someone who looks like me come here?” Mike blurted out with zero grace before he could stop himself. “Does he—do you know his name? Is he—does he—”

Josie frowned hard at him.

“You’re not Matt,” she said after a long moment. “I always thought you were Matt.”

Matt!!

Matty!! MATT. You little shit. You perfect, darling, little shit. Out here, comin’ to Josie’s like a chump—possible alcoholic Matt!

Okay, wait, roll that one back—one problem at a time.

“He’s my brother. I’ve been looking for him for eighteen years, we were separated in foster care—do you know where he lives?” Mike asked with no filter to be seen for miles.

Was it professional of him?

No.

But were hugs at airports ever professional? Exactly. Get off his case.

He beamed wide at Josie, but her face did not reciprocate the gesture. Actually, it seemed to be doing the opposite and that made this little squirming feeling start up in Mike’s gut.

“Christ,” Josie said. “I’m so sorry, man.”

Wh-what?

“You’re gonna need a double.”

What did that mean?

“Take this.”

No. No, what did that mean?

“Take the shot, kid. Trust me. You’re gonna need it.”

  ---

No.

Just.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Josie rubbed her fingernails against her cheek and sighed.

“His owner brings him along,” she said. “Lets him work at their law firm with him—he’s made the papers, sure, but you know. It’s all kind of colored by the fact that he can’t really do shit without permission.”

Mike rolled the tumbler in his hand around.

Nelson, eh? So called ‘owner’ of the android called Matthew Michael Murdock.

Ahahahaha.

Get ready to die, motherfucker.

“But he tries to drink—Matt does,” Mike felt himself say.

Josie didn’t want to look at him.

“Sometimes, it’s like he forgets he’s a droid,” she said. “Usually, he’s got someone with him to keep him out of trouble.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Josie said. “It’s a load of bull.”

FUCK.

He set the tumbler down.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“It’s on the house,” Josie said. “Best of luck.”

Yeah.

Thanks.

  ---

Matty was—

Matty was—

Mike made it back to his hotel room before sinking to his knees by the bed. God had never heeded his prayers before, but things were different now.

Matty couldn’t pray for the both of them anymore. He was—He was--

Mike had to—

God, please.

Please. Give him back. What once was lost had to be found.

What once was lost, God.

Mike had lost him.

He’d lost him forever.

Give him back.

 ---

 He typed Matt’s name into the search engine on his phone and made it through one whole article before he was kneeling before a much harder, much more porcelain altar.

He tried again in the bathroom this time, sat on the floor with his back against the tub.

The bot that someone had made out of Matty looked so sweet. Like Mike, but softer in the cheeks. Younger. Forever 22 or something close to it.

He was still blind, despite all his other modifications and he was a little famous in the field of robotics. Not that the bot appeared to care. The articles claimed that the bot had recovered and retained memories prior to what they kept calling his ‘transition.’

What they meant was when he’d been transformed into a human weapon. An inhuman weapon.

Matty, I’m so sorry.

 ---

 There was only so much self-pity a man could wallow in before his ass started to fall asleep. But more than that, Mike was a Murdock. The tingling in his limbs was lost to the ever-increasing roar of fire in his ears.

That bastard. That bastard lawyer.

Taking Matt after everything he’d been through and turning him into some prop to be used as a showpiece in a grand legal theatre.

Fuck no. Fuck that.

Mike wasn’t fucking this up twice.

 ---

 Nelson & Murdock was closed by the time Mike once again found himself outside its doors. He stared at the sign’s heavy black letters and gave in to the devil raging, hot, underneath the skin of his chest.

He left the shattered doorglass on the ground as he made his way to the opposite stairwell.

 ---

 Karen.

  ---

She lived nearby 9th and 52nd. She was probably going home to her handsome hubby, who’d shower her in chocolate and wine and flowers. But on the way, she’d make a stop. She was a working gal. She wouldn’t have had time to pick up a gift in return before her shift started.

Mike found her at Walgreens, talking on the phone to someone while she petted every teddy bear on the rack in front of her.

He didn’t feel sorry.

She didn’t scream when his hand found her face. He didn’t give her the chance.

  ---

He ditched the hat in the back storeroom of Walgreens and took Karen right through to the loading dock. She thrashed hard.

Mike could barely feel the movement. He was on the lookout for eyes.

An elbow found his ribs and a foot his toes before he got them far enough from view that he could let her go to readjust his grip, and when he did, he got her against a wall, panting.

This lady was tough. But in a flash, she mouth dropped open and her wrists went limp in his grip.

“Mike?” she asked after a second. “Is that you? What are you doing here? Why are you—”

“Where. Is. My brother?” Mike cut her off.

Karen recoiled until her head hit the bricks behind her.

“Your—”

“My brother Matthew,” Mike snapped.

The rush of traffic settled into the silence.

“Oh my god,” Karen whispered. “He’s your brother?”

“Yes. He is, as a matter of fact, and whatever you think you’re doing to him, I will do to you and that fucking lawyer ten times worse,” Mike said. “So you’re going to help me or I’m going to—”

“I knew I knew you.”

He felt himself go stiff.

“Matt talks like you,” Karen said softly. “Just like you.”

Wh—he did?

Karen’s fingers brushed the tops of Mike’s hands. They were cold.

“Mike,” she whispered, sounding for all the world like she was on the verge of tears, “He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Wh—she’d—she’d take him to Matt?

“Of course,” Karen said. “He’s one of my best friends.”

They were friends? How were they friends? Was this a sick joke?

“No. It’s not. I met him years ago it’s just—I didn’t realize you were—okay, there’s just one problem,” Karen said.

 ---

 Uh?

“Sensory input! Greater than! Processing—PROCESSING—processing—”

“Matty,” Franklin Nelson said with both of his hands out in front of him. “I see that we are very excited.”

“SENSORY INPUT—”

“And I love your enthusiasm, and I know you love your enthusiasm,” Nelson continued. “But if you don’t settle down the tiniest fraction of an inch, you’re going to blow a fuse and—”

“SEN—sen-S-S-SEN—”

Uh?

“This is excited,” Karen explained while Nelson wrestled Matt into sitting for the second time since Mike had arrived at the door.

This was excited?

“He’s normally much more in tune with himself,” Karen said. “But I think you’ve jumpstarted some shit that even his additional processing power isn’t enough for.”

Additional what now?

“It’s a long story,” Karen said over the saddest sound that Mike had ever heard.

They both looked over to where Nelson had successfully gotten Matt back to sitting and was now coaching him through whatever the bot-equivalent of breathing exercises were.

“How long?” Mike asked.

Karen’s blue eyes pitied him.

 ---

 Okay, okay, okay. So. Nelson? Not a threat. Definitely a boon.

Matty?

Hng.

Heavy.

“I’ve literally never seen him this excited,” Nelson said. “And I’ve known him for seven years.”

No shit?

“No shit, we met at Columbia,” Nelson sighed. “I’m sorry about this.”

It was fine. Mike deserved this. Probably.

Jesus, what the fuck had they replaced Matt’s muscle’s with? How was he this warm and this heavy and not human all at the same time.

He’d seemed to have decided that Mike needed a full-body hug and while the first ten seconds had been cry-worthy, the last minute or so was getting a little suffocating.

“Matt, let him go,” Nelson pleaded. “He can’t breathe, bud. He’s gotta breathe, he’s not like you—”

“Subject: Mike. Michael Murdock,” Matt said brightly, scrambling off Mike out of no-fucking-where and getting way too far into Nelson’s face.

“Mike, yeah, you said,” Nelson said.

“Mike. Born October 21—”

“I get it. He’s your twin.”

“—at Metropolitan General Hospital at 11:32pm—”

“Matt,  you’re info-dumping friend, we don’t need this. We believe you. Don’t give me his social. Don’t—”

“—Social Security number 6—”

“MATT. End request. End search term. Exit page.”

Uh?

“He did this with the DA last week when he got too riled up,” Karen said sympathetically. “We have no clue where he finds it or better yet, where he even stores it.”

“—my brother, FOGGY.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ see it, man. It’s before mine very own eyes. Y’all are identical. It’s weird.”

“I missed him.”

“Tell that to him then. Stop touching me, ew. No. Go douse him with your weird fuckin’ eye fluid—atta boy, good job—NO. NO CLIMBING.”

Mike…was not prepared for the care and keeping of Bot-Matt. He had to admit that now. All those plans of snatching Matt out of the hands of these evil, evil people were breaking up into little fragments of puzzle pieces and he’d never felt more like shit because god.

He was supposed to look after his brother, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

“I’m so sorry about this,” Franklin Nelson said with Matt leaning almost completely out of his grip and making that horrible sad noise again. “But I think I’m gonna need to cool him down a bit.”

 ---

 Mike couldn’t stop rubbing at his face.

Matt was sprawled out across Nelson’s bed like he was sleeping in the sunlight. The wires plugged into the back of his neck slipped off the edge of the bed and led all the way to a laptop that was just about sweating with how hard it was working.

From the side, it looked like he was human. Absolutely, unequivocally human.

Younger than Mike now, though. Permanently halted at 24 years old. No wonder Karen hadn’t recognized Mike early on. Matty’s jaw was still slim where Mike’s had hardened square like Dad’s. The only facial hair he had was in his eyebrows and eyelashes—there was no reason to add stubble to a bot. It was just more maintenance. Just another aesthetic modification.

“I’m sorry, Mike.”

Mike turned to Nelson.

He didn’t look or talk like a single one of the bot traffickers than Mike had dragged in from the cold—and he’d done the full range of them, from the cackling madhatters to the cooing, babytalkers to the silent so-called geniuses. Nelson exhibited only exasperation.

The story that Karen told about his and her early encounters with Matt made it seem like Nelson honestly considered Matt to be human, like him. Like all of them.

“You helped him,” Mike said quietly.

“If I’d have known that he had you, then I would have helped him find you sooner,” Nelson said. “But I thought he was on his own. He never mentioned anyone else. I should have asked.”

No. No, that was—That was okay, somehow.

“We got separated a lifetime ago,” Mike said. “People thought that I’d be easier to adopt. And clearly he had other things going on.”

Nelson winced.

“That’s shit,” he said.

“And wrong,” Mike sighed. “I don’t even know what to do now. I can’t take care of him like this. I don’t know the first thing about droid maintenance or computers.”

Nelson considered him.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have to—take care of him, I mean,” he said. “Matt takes care of himself. He’s actually really good at it when he’s not blowin’ his top about some damn thing. You’ll see when he wakes up. And on top of that, he’s already got a mechanic, so when something goes wrong that he can’t fix, we take him to Parker and he does the heavy lifting there.”

Mike swallowed.

“You guys really have it worked out,” he realized.

Nelson sighed.

“Like I said. I’ve known him for seven years. We’ve lived together ever since.”

Woah. Wait. What now?

Nelson turned exhausted eyes onto him.

“I co-signed for his loft, but he just comes and spends all his time here when he’s not out smashing faces. Claims my bed. Steals all the sun spots. Makes me only shit coffee in return.”

He—Matt—Matt had his own apartment? He could do that?

“Sure? Why not? He owns half the firm, too,” Nelson said. “I mean, they wouldn’t let me put it in his name, technically. So it’s through a wildly complicated, uh—let’s call it a ‘thing’ for simplicity’s sake. But yeah. If anything happens to me, full ownership goes to him. But as far as we’re concerned, it’s half and half. The only thing Matt can’t do is practice law on his own, so we have to double-team pretty much every case.”

Mike needed to sit down.

“Oh, for sure. Just not there. I’d recommend out of range, here. Sit here,” Nelson said.

 ---

 Matt woke up when Karen snuck around the bed to remove the wires from his neck. He scrambled up and fell right over the side of the bed onto Karen’s feet.

She swore. He groaned. Nelson pointedly did not come back into the room.

This time, though, when Matt got back up, Karen pulled him in the direction of Mike and took his wrist. She held out a hand for Mike.

Mike’s heart fluttered.

He gave it to her and Karen put his hand directly in Matt’s palm.

There was silence.

“Mikey,” Matt said after a long moment.

Mike’s eyes started burning.

“You came for me,” Matt said.

Mike couldn’t make his throat work. It took two goes to find his voice.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I sure did.”

“You ain’t singin’, though,” Matt pointed out. “Why aren’t you singin’?”

Because he was cryin’, man. God, give a guy a break.

“Matty, what did they do to you?��� he asked.

Matt made a strange sound as he mulled over the question. A kind of whirring noise.

“Made me into a droid, dumbass,” he said.

Mike laughed before he could stop himself.

“Can I have a non-lethal hug?” he asked.

Matt whirred.

“No promises,” he said.

 ----