#i can't tell if this reads like actual speech sorry my brain has checked out. you wouldn't believe how long i stared at the screen trying
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I'm looking for prints/artwork (on behalf of one of my siblings!), does anyone have any artist recommendations please? I would love to know whose work you enjoy!!! (or your own haha) (let me know in the replies how to find their online shop pls e.g. if they use an alias!) :D
#i can't tell if this reads like actual speech sorry my brain has checked out. you wouldn't believe how long i stared at the screen trying#to formulate those sentences :P trying to balance 'robot speech' and 'how do you do fellow teens'...#would love to see some new artists though and i can't remember barely any of the artists i like and have work from!! :P
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You are my favourite sans person, so i wanna ask you, what do you think his singing voice would sound like??? I don't know if it would be similar to his speech which I imagine is like a deeper baritone sort of thing, OR, he's one of those dudes who sounds drastically different depending on what he's doing.
he's sexy either way though🤫🤫
I've been thinking about this ask for the past several days 😳
That is such a sweet thing to say!!! Thank you for telling me this, I appreciate you reaching out so much!
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To answer your question, I think Sans would be very skilled in modulating his voice.
I imagine him being an expert in communication - that means not only having an uncanny ability to read your face like an open book, but also being able to masterfully control his own expression and the message that his voice and his body language send.
(note: this has nothing to do with controlling emotions, that's a whole another topic)
That's also why his ability to lie is straight up scary. This man could sell you the most otherwordly ideas in a believable way and you would never know.
Sans is scary. The power he wields IS scary, and I do not mean piercing bones. He's one scary little cookie and I love him so much-
Also, isn't it amazing that he never uses those talents to abuse others? We as the Players commit atrocities and treat the in-game world like our playground. There are also all these other characters who misuse their strength and influence in a destructive, careless way. And on the other side there is Sans. Intelligent, powerful, both in battle and in soft skills.
He is so- ah, you know what I mean?! He could, but he doesn't! He's got all the abilities necessary to become the scariest predator ever seen, and he chooses not to.
But I digress.
HAVING SAID ALL THAT, I think he would be a very good singer in his natural vocal range.
As I have mentioned before, he can read you very well. That means he recognizes each tiny change in your voice. In the game we can also see the way his text speech changes, many times, in different ways. It, of course, is not THAT important - we are discussing headcanons anyway ♡ But I really like that about him, too.
I don't see anything stopping him from using all that knowledge and talent to sing well (if he wanted to).
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I'd love to share with you who is my voice for Sans, but I can't. He actually is a singer. I have never seen him linked to Sans in any way whatsoever, so I really don't want to put his name out there.
But that's such a good voice... Oh man...
It's deep, of course, but with a totally unique timbre. I have never heard any voice similar to it, and it's so... It's so pleasant to my ears! It's smooth, and ahhh I can't explain it. It has got that special something... Those undertones that feel and taste like SANS. That relaxed, though positive and attentive manner of speech. Ah. I am obsessed with it.
And I have found it by a total accident. Several months ago I was driving, minding my own business, there was radio playing in the background, and at one point they started to play an old song from the 1980s.
30 seconds in and I'm like, oh shit. No.
1 minute in and I am starting to sweat.
No.
no
no no no-
YEEEEEESSS!
[IMAGINE: A STREAM OF HAPPY EXPLETIVES]
That was an epiphany.
The feeling was euphoric.
SANS
sans sans
ASDDASDASFSSASA
I have no memory of the rest of the drive, but THAT VOICE.
I came back home. I looked up the radio station on the internet. I checked what they played an hour earlier.
And I found out who it actually was.
Immediately I went searching for some recorded interviews and yesss, there they were, perfectly available on youtube...
I spend a couple of hours every week listening to those interviews while I am working or drawing. That voice is ingrained in my brain now. That's my Sans' voice.
I am so sorry I can't show it to you.
--------------------------- Let me know what YOU think! ♡
I love to read different headcanons and ideas.
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❛ CLUB DOESN'T GO FIRST ❜
with Ezekiel Reyes.
Request: Second part of this prompt.
BY @ly--canthrope
Warnings: none.
Word count: about 2.9k
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: @angels-reyes
Masterlist.
Sitting up and resting your back against the window, you cover your mouth to drown a loud yawn on the palm of your hand. Your head hurts too much, but not more than your heart, feeling yet the oppression squeezing it. Turning to the nightstand, you find a coffee with a hand written note that says ‘drink me with the pill’. Angel has been taking care of you for the last four days, sleeping on the sofa you can't imagine how hurt has to be his back. Feeling so sorry for him. The history repeats itself years ago. Lowering the blind a little, you grab the painkiller to swallow it with a sip of the cold drink. You don't want to check your phone, knowing what you are going to find. But the masochism is stronger than your desire for not doing it. Grabbing it from under Angel's pillow, you unlock it.
There are thousands of texts and lost calls from EZ's number. And, like every morning since four days ago, you read all the messages. This time, you have fifty two. The most recent is from twenty minutes ago. You're aware that he has been sleeping on his brother's door waiting for you to talk with him. But you don't want any explanation. You understood why he was leaving in the middle of the night, thinking that you were sleeping. And you don't want to think about the fact that he has been cheating you. But if it's not, what else?
To: angelito 👼🏻
“I'm still alive to my misfortune”
Leaving the phone away, you try to get up stretching your whole anatomy after putting your feet on the warmth floor because of the sun going through the window. Walking straight to the bathroom and after having another drink from the mug, you place it over the marble sink to take off your pajamas, which is basically an old Angel's shirt, you get into the shower. The hot water wets down your hair and your anatomy, rubbing your face to get rid of the rheums and gargling to clean your throat from the taste of beer and cigars courtesy of last night. When your mane is already washed, and your body too, you step out from the shower wrapped in a soft blue towel covering from your chest to your knees.
From: angelito 👼🏻
“Drink the coffee, take the painkiller and come to the clubhouse. Prez wanna talk with you”.
To: angelito 👼🏻
“Is your brother there?”
From: angelito 👼🏻
“In Yuma till tonight”.
Sighing heavily, you nod at the last message walking back to his room to get dressed. For a moment you thought that he was in the building hallway waiting again for you to talk with him. But you're starting to see ghosts in a house that it's not haunted. When you're ready, picking your basic stuff around the house, like the keys of your car and your wallet, to keep them inside your bag; you leave the Reyes house. Unlocking the black Camaro, you find a note stuck in the front windshield. ‘I love you. I'm so sorry’. Crumpling it into a ball, you throw it to the ground without giving it more importance than it already has.
Driving your way to the clubhouse, your phone rings on the codriver seat, flashing EZ's name on the screen. And you're about to throw it too by the window, when you have to stop your car dead some inches away to not run Creeper over, at the entrance of the scrapping.
“Shit, mami!”
“Sorry, Crep'!” You say, sticking your head out of the car for a moment.
Biting your bottom lip, dying of shame, you continue by the gravel road to the front yard. Parking close to the motorcycles, Angel receives you between his strong arms, as soon as you step out of the Camaro.
“Gotcha!” He screams with a singing voice, lifting you up some seconds, squeezing you under his grip and making you laugh.
“Stop! You're gonna break me!”
“Yeah, sure… 'cause you're soft and fluffy, aren't you?” He jokes pocking the tip of your nose, before placing an arm on your shoulders.
“What does Bishop want?”
“You will see, (Y/N)”. He smirks at you, bringing you to the inside of the clubhouse. “He's in the Templo”.
Greeting the other members and grabbing another cup of coffee, you take off the sunglasses that cover the black bags under your eyes coming into it. Closing the sliding door, El Presidente gets up from his chair to hug you with an arm on your back.
“Sit down, querida”.
You have been all day thinking about the thing you want EZ to explain to you, making a whole speech in your head that you know you're going to forget when you see him again. Yes, you still be raged and bereaved, but you can't erase all at once a year of relationship, and a life of friendship. Your hands tremble over the steer wheel, clinging your fingers around it when you drive through the scrapping again when the night has fallen down above Santo Padre. Soon, you find him sitting on the porch waiting for you, after his brothers told him that you wanted to talk. Licking your bottom lip and breathing by your nose, you leave the car parked close to the motorbikes, getting out of it with dubious steps and your hands keeped in the back pockets of your jeans. Ezekiel smiles with a saddened aura wrapping him, noticing that the shine you used to have in your eyes now is gone. Standing up on his feet, you follow him to the roulotte, where everything happens. And even if you would like to have this conversation in another place, you know it's going to help you because of all the memories you have built there. This place is going to keep you in the real world.
Opening the door, the younger Reyes lets you come in first, closing it behind his back in the meantime you sit at the table. Your hands are intertwined in a first over the wood, with your gaze fixed on them, until he has a seat in front of you. Emboldening, you look at him.
“Those… three or four times you left past midnight, you went to see her?”
He nods.
“Yes”.
Licking your incisors with the tip of your tongue, you tour your lower lip with it. You already knew it. But it's painful hearing him confirming it to you.
“Did you f—”.
“No”. He just says, interrupting you with his eyes constantly on yours. No doubts, no trembling tone of voice. “I would never touch her. I would never touch any woman that it's not you”.
“Well, you were ��actually’ touching her”. You laugh with a bitter and sarcastic laughter, resting your back against the sofa watching him snort. “Why? Why did you lie to me?”
“I couldn't tell you anything until being sure”.
“Being sure about what, Ezekiel? Fuck off with your secrets!” You bark hitting the table with the palm of your hand.
“Until being sure of who killed my mother... and who hired him”.
Placing both forearms on the table, frowning confused and your mouth slightly opened, you try to say something. Stuttering nonsense words. Now, in part, you feel like shit. You don't care anymore why he didn't tell you but the fact he has been through this alone. Rubbing your face with both hands and pulling back your hair from the roots to flood them onto your nape, you snort.
“Angel knows it?”
“No”.
“And… why Emily? What does she have to do with all this?”
“Jose Galindo hired a hitman to kill my parents”. EZ briefly explains, keeping his gaze on yours at all times. “Pops worked for him, but when he met my mom and got pregnant of Angel, he left the Cartel and ran away. I don't know if he… did it because he thought that pops could speak with the DEA or… I don't know… I don't know yet”.
“Do you… know the name of the… man who shot your mother?” Ez told you that he saw his face, but it wasn't enough to find him. He just nods, freezing your blood.
And you know it's the exact and perfect moment to drop your condition on the table.
“I want you to leave the club”.
The youngest Reyes twists his neck confused, because he wasn't expecting these words and you're talking pretty serious.
“If you want me to come back, I want you to leave the club. I want you away from Emily, from the Cartel, from all this shit. I'm not gonna live as your mother did. I love you, but this life is not for me, Ezekiel”.
“You can't ask m—”.
“Yes, I can. And I'm doing it. I've been with you for the last eight years. Unconditionally. Always by your side. But I can't. I can't anymore”. You sentence about to cry, gesticulating with one hand to cut the air between both. “I'm leaving Santo Padre tomorrow. You have until noon”.
You're hating Bishop right now more than you thought you could ever hate someone in your life. But that man is wise like a damn rat. And sometimes, he knows you better than yourself. Even so, you're fucking up EZ so bad that he's about to break into pieces when he watches you getting up from the sofa. A lot of bullshit dances in your head. His mother's murderer, Emily trying to get him closer, Angel living happily in his ignorance. You're sure that your brain is going to explode from one moment to another, when a strong and firm hand grabs your left wrist. Bowing down your orbs to the fingers clinged around your skin, you raise up your gaze to the man with his eyes filled with tears.
“I cho—choose you over everything”. He says with a broken thread of voice, shaking like a scared kid, slowly pulling you closer.
Surprised and stunned, you let him sit you on his lap. Sinking his face in your neck, he finally lets go of all those things that were oppressing his heart, turning them into tears. His tensed arms surrounding your waist, making you know that he doesn't want you to go.
“Isn't it enough to asking him to do it?”
“Querida, words will always be words. And words are gone with the wind”.
“I'm gonna destroy him”.
“Didn't he do it first? I want his kutte on my table”.
Doubting, you bring your hands to the back of his head. As soon as he feels your touch again, his cry gets louder staining your shirt holding you stronger. EZ is trying to ask you to stay, to tell you that he's going to do whatever you ask him for, but his voice is so low that you can't hear him well. Your fingers caress his scalp slowly, from his nape to the top of his head, resting your cheek on it.
Ezekiel takes one last look at the leather kutte exposed over the table of the roulotte. Since he came out of jail, the only two reasons he have had to continue his life have been you and this piece of clothes. They're his family. They love him. He enjoys the shit he does in some kind of way, but he can't imagine a life without you. For him it's going to be easy to find a job, start from zero in another city, another country. He knows it well. But he's going to miss riding his bike as much as he has done until now.
Taking the kutte and cleaning his tears, EZ has a deep breath before stepping out of the trailer, guiding his steps through the alley towards the clubhouse. Every member of his charter is sitting at the table inside the templo, without understanding what's happening when they watch him coming in with the vest in a hand. No one, except Bishop and Angel. He's devastated, having his heart divided in two. One of them falling into pieces. But that feeling is taken to the background because of the confusion that tours through his body, when he finds you there too behind Bishop's chair, resting your back on the dark wall.
“I just… want to thank you for… welcoming me here, as one more of you. For letting me be part of this family, but…” Ezekiel leaves the kutte over the table with trembling fingers, running his hands through the fabric to wipe out some small wrinkles. “I leave the club”.
“What?” “Brother, the fuck?” “Bishop, what is that?”
All the members talk in unison, while Angel looks at his brother in silence. Actually, he's feeling proud of what he is doing. Yes, he's leaving the club. But Ezekiel is showing that he cares about his family, more than anything.
“I don't know if I have to do… something before… leaving”. He says then, clearing his throat and tangling his hands behind his back.
“Wear that fucking kutte and place the boxes of beers that came this morning”. Bishop just says, while you take some steps to put your hands on his shoulders. “See? I told you, kid”.
“Listen, querida, I would leave the club too if you asked me to do it. You're the kind of person that could put out the flames of hell”.
“But… I don't want him to do it”.
“He will do it, if he loves you. If he truly considers you his family. We're always with this shit about ‘club goes first’, but that's not true. Blood. Blood goes first. No matter how bad your true family treated you, it's in our DNA. I will not let him go, it's just a test. And if he chooses the club over you, I'll fuck him up”.
“If you cross a single world, again, with Galindo's wife, listen to me, Ezekiel”. El Presidente gets up from his chair, placing one hand over the table to use the other to point at him. “I will cut your body into pieces, keeping you alive all the time possible, to spread it all over the desert. Don't play dumb, prospect, I am not kidding”.
The crew are still confused, but they know that as soon as you leave the Templo, Angel will explain to them what was the conversation between Bishop and you.
“And about you, querida”. The man turns a little, twisting his neck. “Look where you drive by. Creeper was shot some months ago, don't run him over too”.
“Yeah! Exactly! I'm fucking fragile, mami”.
“Like a Fabergé's egg”. You say rolling your eyes.
“If you say that because of what I'm thinking… I'm not bald, I like to shave my head”. He replies making fun of you, watching how you walk closer to EZ.
“Oh, c'mon! Isn't that bad to be bald, Creeper. You save money on shampoo”.
The laughs flood the Templo, in the meantime that you grab the kutte to help a confused EZ to put it on.
“Let's go, prospect, you have work to do”. Palming his shoulders, you accompany him to the bar, after closing the glass door.
“I… I… Wha—What hap…” Your boyfriend isn't able to form a sentence, rubbing his face with both hands. “Did you… Did he…?”
“We did” You reply, crossing the bar to grab some beers. Opening both, you offer him one. “I didn't want to reach the extreme of watching you hand over the kutte, but Bishop wanted to push you to your limits”.
“But, then… What happens with us? Are you leaving? Are you leaving Santo Padre? I did what you ask me to, you ca—”.
“Sometimes, I really think that you're not this… smart as you used to, Ezekiel”. Drinking from your bottle, you shake your head with a fleeting smile. “It was just a test, EZ. I'm not going anywhere. Bishop had the… brilliant idea of makes you proof me your love over the club”.
“So… You're staying?”
“I'm ready to punch you in the face, if you ask me again”.
Leaving his beer away over a table, he takes three big steps towards you, clinging his arms around your body. For a second you're sure that you're running out of air, before he starts to kiss your face all over it. He was truly fucked, and now is when you're seeing it. Surrounding his back with your arms, you push him closer to you, shortening all the possible distance between both.
“I promise I'll not keep any other secret from you. Never. I swear to my mom, baby. There's no one in this life over you, over what I feel for you”. Ezekiel assures you, sinking his face in the space between his forearm and your neck. “I love you. You're gonna see it every fucking day, mi amor”.
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#mayans mc x reader#mayans mc#mayans mc imagine#mayans x reader#ez reyes x reader#ezekiel reyes#ez reyes#ezekiel reyes x reader
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The Girl Out of Time
Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader
Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.
Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.
Chapter 25
I stayed in my seat next to Steve. He was flipping threw the accords now. Sam has gotten up to stand behind us next to Rhodey. Then he had to make a smart comment sending Rhodey into a tangent.
"Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor which is one more than you have." Rhodey snapped at him.
"So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Sam asked harshly.
I turned in my seat to watch the two. Rhodey sighed as he rubbed his eyes.
"117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you're just like, 'No, that's cool. We got it.'" Rhodey said sarcastically.
"How long are you going to play both sides?" Sam asked narrowing his eyes at the other man.
"I have an equation." Vision spoke up.
"Oh, this will clear it up." Sam said rolling his eyes.
I turned to face the once AI who was sitting next to Wanda.
"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate." Vision explained.
"Are you saying it's our fault?" Steve asked as he looked up from the page he was reading.
"I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge invites conflict. And conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight, oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." Vision said slowly.
"Boom" Rhodey whispered towards Sam.
"Tony. You're being uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal." Nat said.
I looked over to Tony who was slouched in his seat on the couch rubbing his head.
"It's because he's already made up his mind." Steve said as he flipped a page.
"Boy, you know me so well." Tony groaned as he got up.
"Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort." Tony said as he walked into the kitchen.
"Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" He asked harshly.
He turned away from the sink then tossed something onto the counter. A holographic picture of a young boy came up. Tony took a deep breath.
"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia. He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." Tony took another deep breath.
Even though I wasn't even close to Sokovia I still felt partly at fault. I felt guilty for everything that had happened even if I wasn't apart of it.
"There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form it takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less we're no better than the bad guys." Tony's voice fell into a soft and exhausted tone.
"Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." Steve said sternly.
"Who said we're giving up?" Tony asked raising a brow at Steve.
"We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame." Steve said as he tossed the papers back onto the table.
"I'm sorry, Steve. That is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not Shield, it's not Hydra." Rhodey explained.
"No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change." Steve said simply.
"That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands I shut it down and stopped manufacturing." Tony told him as he walked around the counter.
“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” Steve tried to explain.
“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty.” Tony said simply.
“You’re saying they’ll come for me.” Wanda said softly.
“We would protect you.” Vision told her.
“Maybe Tony’s right. If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-“ Nat started to explain.
“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asked.”
I glanced over to Steve who looked absolutely exhausted. I knew he didn’t want this. He looked like he was wracking his brain for anything to say to convince the others.
“I’m just reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.” Nat told Sam.
“Focus up. I’m sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” Tony asked in his normal sarcasm.
“I want to take it back now.” Nat practically groaned.
“No, you can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay. Case closed. I win.” Tony shrugged happily.
A soft buzzing had me looking down at Steve’s lap. He pulled his phone out then read over the words on the screen. His entire demeanor changed.
“I have to go.” He said then immediately left the room without another word.
“What?” Tony asked after he was already gone.
I looked back to see Sam already watching me. I’m sure he could tell something was up as well. We both made our way out of the room to try to find Steve. He hadn’t gotten that far. By the time we got out to the sidewalk he was standing there with red puffy eyes. I ran straight to him pulling him into me for a hug.
“She’s gone. Peggy’s gone.” He said softly.
Sam and I both decided to join Steve for the funeral. Neither of us wanted him to be alone. The three of us sat in the front pew. Steve was squeezed between us. I watched as Sharon, the “nurse” that lived down the hall from Steve and I, stepped up to the podium.
“Margret Carter was known to most as a founder of Shield but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” She started.
I glanced at Steve who looked completely surprised by her statement.
“She has a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.” Sharon glanced at Steve as if she was talking directly to him.
“I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. She said, compromise where you can. But where you can’t, don’t. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree look them in the eye and say no, you move.” Sharon said with as much passion as Steve.
She was one hell of a speech giver. If that speech effected me I can only imagine what it did to Steve. I had a feeling Sharon’s words just concreted everything Steve had been thinking about. When the service was over Sam and I stood outside to give Steve his moment alone. Nat came jogging up to church steps toward us.
“So?” I asked.
“It’s done.” She nodded.
“He’s inside” Sam told her.
She nodded then walked in to find Steve.
“What now?” I asked Sam.
“I have a feeling we’re just getting started.” He huffed as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
I had the same feeling. After all this I’m sure Steve wasn’t going to back down.
—
#nothingbutfangirlsmut#fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky angst#james buchanan barnes#steve rogers#sam wilson fanfiction#sam x reader#sam wilson#the girl out of time
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Sick Kids
gotspoons: [A chatroom/forum situation for teens with invisible illnesses/disabilities, a resource that is recommended when you can't go to IRL groups for your health/they aren't in your area etc] gotspoons: Ticked one whole thing off my to-do list today, feeling like a champ 💪 also feeling like a 2-hour long nap, who here relates? 🥱 tigerbalm: 🖐 took my nap earlier & yet 😴💤 brainpain: 💕🛏 brainpain: long lasting relationship with my memory foam mattress gotspoons: There is NO limit on the number of naps necessary to make it through the day tigerbalm: or the number of abandoned to-do lists, what was your 1 thing? gotspoons: 🚿 looks like breakfast will have to wait tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: @brainpain I have so many memory foam pillows in every room of my house I'm basically a shareholder 🙌 brainpain: @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously same but I've got my fave, I call him Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👏🙏 thank you for your service, Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: must name mine, only named the chariot 🦼 Charlton gotspoons: [ihatemyguts has entered the chat] gotspoons: A newbie, welcome! tigerbalm: 👋 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: love the username, what ails ya? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: because this is the only place it's acceptable to ask 'what's WRONG with you?' but not the only place you encounter it, right brainpain: but you don't have to answer cos it's also somewhere where you're encouraged to 'express yourself' translation: be an arsehole if you want brainpain: if you don't go hardcore enough to get blocked brainpain: @fibrofog LMAO tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: the normies get to be rude as their default, and it is NOT encouraged to hit people with your cane, let me tell you ihatemyguts: Hi, everyone ihatemyguts: I'll do my best not to be an arsehole, even if my problem only lie directly above said orifice, which makes it a struggle not to be at times ihatemyguts: UC, first flare totally fucked over the family holiday 😬 sorry to that hotel toilet and my long-suffering parents and brother brainpain: newbie got jokes AND comedy timing ihatemyguts: 🚽 humour isn't all I have, I swear, though my life now does revolve entirely around the porcelain throne so it's no surprise I'm anally expulsive, thanks to Freud for that read tigerbalm: Freud's the perv, am I right? ihatemyguts: Totally ihatemyguts: and a big believer in the cocaine cure-all, which my Doctor just wasn't going for, shame tigerbalm: sounds like my sleazy uncle in every way tigerbalm: why does everybody get one? gotspoons: 😂 This chat is worth keeping my eyes open for gotspoons: every family is a play, and we're destined to be the 'sick kid' part gotspoons: other players react accordingly, from the 'can't look at you without crying' to the 'thinks you're making it up for some reason' brainpain: I vote we all go off script like @fibrofog 🤬🚨👿❗️ ihatemyguts: I guess I'm lucky in the sense that if anyone doubts the legitimacy of my illness, I can offer to show them the contents of my stomach/toilet bowl ihatemyguts: that shuts them up relatively fast, not had to go full 🐒 and throw it at anyone yet ihatemyguts: though I'm intrigued by the infamous @fibrofog, who are they, where, and why the infamy? Fill a girl in brainpain: the myth, the legend brainpain: so angry cos I turned 'em down for a romantic rendezvous ihatemyguts: No way! ihatemyguts: I'm glad that napping isn't the only action the memory foam is getting ihatemyguts: we're just like any other teens, right guys? 💁 tigerbalm: @brainpain you know the rules, fedora pics or it didn't happen! tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: you know what they say about disabled chicks, grateful 😉 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: #dontkillmeladies #iamnotasleazyuncle tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: don't think Mr. Fog was even a legit 🥄 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: total predator tigerbalm: if it was my uncle I'm SO sorry 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: family who piggyback are THE worst tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: no, MY disability doesn't make YOU automatically WOKE for not drowning me in the tub or throwing me off the nearest high place I can access ihatemyguts: Honestly, I've never felt as simultaneously popular and unpopular in my life ihatemyguts: people 💬 a big acceptance game on the socials ihatemyguts: but no one wants to actually hang with the girl who can't eat shit and will spend half her time in the 🚽 gotspoons: Everyone's supportive until your disability gets in the way of THEIR perfect life even slightly gotspoons: imagine if they were one of us 👽 brainpain: speak for yourselves, my slurred speech makes me a hit with all my hard partying peers brainpain: get weird without a 🍹 ihatemyguts: hey man, don't let us drag you down 😎 ihatemyguts: if @fibrofog was feeling you, you're WAY too cool for this chat right now brainpain: never have, never will, baby 😉 brainpain: [inandout has entered the chat] gotspoons: OH MY GOD, that's a whole different story...my parents = you need to socialize more, live life! my parents = I don't know if this group is good for you, we think you're being encouraged to display and give in to even more problems gotspoons: thanks guys, you're literally making me more disabled with your disabledness 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It is a cult, well-known fact, leave your productiveness to society at the door and let's all lie here and feel sorry for ourselves, doesn't that sound like fun, kids? 😈 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and 👋 sup, inandout, not seen you in a while tigerbalm: my parents act like y'all are catching too! Would you like to cage me like a legit 🐅 or? inandout: baited breath inandout: out living that life like @gotspoons parents want tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It'll be the Olympics next tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🥇 Hero status with the normies, inspirational, dude inandout: if it'll make adults I've never met proud of me ihatemyguts: I can't believe I've not checked if I'm disabled enough for the paras, oh my God ihatemyguts: are there enough of us for a basketball team? brainpain: if ONLY my former lover were here brainpain: he's gotta be so tall ihatemyguts: Pining for @fibrofog is productive, yeah? ihatemyguts: can pine from my throne just fine brainpain: hands off newbie! I will throw mine brainpain: LOL imagine gotspoons: This group has always had a bias towards too many girls gotspoons: it's almost as if even disabled boys don't wanna talk about their feelings gotspoons: what say you @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously and @inandout? 🤔🤴🤴 inandout: I'd bring friends but you know us CF kids aren't allowed to congregate inandout: and what could I possibly have in common with someone who doesn't share my disease ihatemyguts: So, what is the deal with that, are some of us catching? ihatemyguts: 🐅 parents might have legit concerns inandout: cross infectious but only if you've got what's got me inandout: none of you do so you'll need another reason to turn down hanging out in person tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: my fedora is in the wash? inandout: Fibro could easily say it's my jewishness brainpain: but it's your hunkiness, babe 💪😉 inandout: I'd whistle back at you, Lauren but.... inandout: let's just say you leave me breathless tigerbalm: No names, Zach tigerbalm: it's like a rule ihatemyguts: uh-oh ihatemyguts: if you had a name, Tiger, in theory, like ihatemyguts: 🧐 tigerbalm: Robyn ihatemyguts: Pretty, you others may as well just come out with it now ihatemyguts: even if I'm a massive perv with mad hacking and tracking skills, I pinky promise I won't be able to find you from your given name alone brainpain: give us yours, newbie ihatemyguts: I will, but you'll think I'm giving you a fake one ihatemyguts: it's the gift and curse bestowed upon me at birth, along with potentially dodgy genetics brainpain: your life is 💩 brainpain: but still ihatemyguts: Zelda ihatemyguts: a reference I'm sure you won't get, 'cos you're so 😎 brainpain: I game, the stream was fibros fave hunting ground brainpain: no 💩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Turns out being a nerd is way easy from the relative (barely but beats death, yeah?) comfort of the memory foam tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and Rich 👍 only in name, destitute until my next pittance comes in tigerbalm: she's not supposed to 🎮 -headaches -dizziness -light & sound sensitivity but she's a REBEL brainpain: 👌 MOM maybe I'd love a seizure, what do you know? ihatemyguts: I respect it ihatemyguts: gonna be fondly reminiscing over all those dirty, evil trigger foods when they're resecting my bowel 🖕🚔 brainpain: I had a life before I had a TBI, no offense to 👶 Zach inandout: none taken gotspoons: You're all being bad and I cannot support it 🤐😜 gotspoons: and I'm Rosie, I will just 😴 out on you all the time and yes, it's a fantastic excuse for when you don't wanna respond ihatemyguts: I'll commit all of those to memory in a normal, non-creepy manner ihatemyguts: but whilst I'm allowed to be a n00b, what do you all do for school? brainpain: I was nearly done before 🤯 which got me my pity pass ihatemyguts: pity with a point, at least, alright tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm waiting to start uni, absolutely no thanks to my school and their totally ableist refusal to make reasonable adjustments for accessibility tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but fedora or not, I can be a real arsehole, a loud, persistent one at that tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: take my applause now brainpain: 😍 brainpain: take my 💘 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: as long as it's not heavy, m'lady brainpain: you could 💔 brainpain: hold the pieces tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🧠 just isn't poetic enough brainpain: you know me gotspoons: you guys are so cute 🥰 and your broken brain is beautiful, Lauren gotspoons: me though, I'm barely struggling through school still, so many sick days, so much catching up to do 🥱 just thinking about it and therein lies the problem tigerbalm: my parents are trying to get online classes set up but my headteacher is like a million years old inandout: is he a demon? inandout: that was some scary fiction brainpain: or was it? brainpain: cue up those sound effects tigerbalm: if we're gonna talk about hypnosis, I'm out ihatemyguts: that was some serious creepy uncle vibes ihatemyguts: why did he need that level of control ihatemyguts: 🐘 in the room tigerbalm: I have a hippie cousin too, alternative therapy talk is so triggering ihatemyguts: I need a memoir re. your family sitch immediately 😂 ihatemyguts: you get the food purists coming @ me as if I just eat the right thing I'd be 'cured' tigerbalm: I'm working on a screenplay but I've never written a script before, I did find an online class for that easily though ihatemyguts: that's actually 😎 ihatemyguts: soz, Lauren brainpain: she's our lil busy 🐝 brainpain: step your game up, Zachary brainpain: supposed to be you, bro inandout: let Robbie have it, she has more sick days to fill up ihatemyguts: always have your 🥇 inandout: I can pin it on like a star when I got to school with the masses inandout: let them know I'm not what normal looks like ihatemyguts: only the others like you need to have the scoop on that though ihatemyguts: really fucks with the segregation in a big way inandout: “I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.” ihatemyguts: Tattoo idea inandout: if I make it to 18, I'll do it ihatemyguts: how long you given yourself there? inandout: I turned 14 in may, the party was a full blown rager inandout: 🏥🎂 ihatemyguts: you like ruining events too? ihatemyguts: what a coincidence, don't just do family holidays inandout: if I can't blow up 🎈 nobody can ihatemyguts: 🥳 smug bastard inandout: I find that party blower offensive inandout: Rosie! That's a strike for the new girl ihatemyguts: Come to me when it's as culturally iconic as 💩 ihatemyguts: my next (first) tattoo right there inandout: how long are you waiting for that masterpiece? ihatemyguts: was 14 in March ihatemyguts: if we both make it, it's a date inandout: cool inandout: way I'm going that'll be my first one brainpain: now I feel like a pervy OLD uncle brainpain: thank you 👶s ihatemyguts: Lemme guess? ihatemyguts: I'm thinking 19 brainpain: spooky brainpain: I'm an Aquarius if anyone cares ihatemyguts: our 🌟s aligning might be too close to alternative for comfort tigerbalm: I'm a cancer, which is awkward tigerbalm: not my diagnosis ihatemyguts: at least it's memorable ihatemyguts: literally tacked on at the end, who's remembering 🎣 tigerbalm: I hope my 16th will be, for the right reasons tigerbalm: I've still got 5 months left to plan ihatemyguts: 🤞🤞🤞 tigerbalm: I'll add your name, the others know they're all invited ihatemyguts: that's so nice ihatemyguts: considering this introduction has given away nothing if not I am a terrible guest brainpain: another chat about online safety, Robyn, REALLY? 😏 brainpain: did my failed romance teach you nothing? ihatemyguts: if that isn't a challenge to send a photo and make you feel really weird ihatemyguts: why are we anon anyway, to stop us uprising? ihatemyguts: metaphorically if not literally, no offense xoxo brainpain: f it brainpain: I need you all to sign up to my stream to pay my bills anyways brainpain: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: @fibrofog, I get it brainpain: don't flock to tell me how sexy I am, that'd make it weird brainpain: plus, I know tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I picked an awkward time to check back in tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Rosie falls asleep and anarchy reigns? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm proud brainpain: 💔 YOU haven't showered me with compliments, but hey tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: if I made it that easy you'd never be 💘 brainpain: 😩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: to save any of the rest of you following such a hard act tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: [pic] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it's old but still a rough estimation of what I look like on a good day brainpain: 😍 brainpain: You're up, girl Z ihatemyguts: if you're all good looking though, I'm so mad ihatemyguts: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: 💩 inandout: I'm not good looking, I'll go next inandout: besides, Robbie would never bow to peer pressure and Rosie is out for the count inandout: [a selfie] tigerbalm: I am 🙀 tigerbalm: but everyone else has tigerbalm: [the shyest selfie of all time] ihatemyguts: 😻😻😻 ihatemyguts: seriously ihatemyguts: representation done us dirty on so many levels now ihatemyguts: when we're not invisible, why we not so gorgeous tigerbalm: there should be a blushing 😸 tigerbalm: that's the representation I need ihatemyguts: Call me out all you need but I was convinced this whole thing would be a lot more tragic than it has been inandout: tragic Tuesdays are a thing brainpain: no they are f-ing not brainpain: Zachary, just cos the new girl's in your age bracket + shares your 1st initial brainpain: she is not corruptible to you inandout: check us on our date, Lauren inandout: but watch your profanity brainpain: watch me give you a DIY lung transplant gotspoons: Excuse me gotspoons: what is going on here brainpain: nothing babe, it's all a dream gotspoons: 😖 gotspoons: if it was, none of you would be here gotspoons: sorry to say brainpain: we love you too brainpain: hit us with that sleepy selfie gotspoons: You know we aren't meant to give out personal info in the public forum gotspoons: if you choose to privately, that's okay though gotspoons: also I don't look any better for my shower now 🥴🤫 brainpain: you're a hottie gotspoons: 😘 gotspoons: well, my blog IS going to be featured on [insert disability awareness news moment] next month, so it isn't as if you couldn't find 🖼 if you really wanted gotspoons: [photo] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Congrats, Ro tigerbalm: a genuine 👏👏👏 tigerbalm: I love your blog gotspoons: Ty, ty 🙇 gotspoons: it's the same as my username, if you wanna check it out, newbie 😄 brainpain: but have you been on the news for being the victim of a violent crime? 😏 just me LOL inandout: Lauren's trading on her fame again inandout: let Rosie have her moment ihatemyguts: pass along all relevant info and I'll 🤓 right up brainpain: @inandout 🍒😃💩👅 brainpain: enjoy the profanity, bro inandout: today's highlight tigerbalm: Zelda could take offence at that, Zach tigerbalm: I think it was nice to meet her ihatemyguts: Not at all ihatemyguts: though it's cultural appropriation to use that emoji without my permission, I'll let it slide 😉 ihatemyguts: nice meeting you all too tigerbalm: I really am gonna have to tell you about my family now ihatemyguts: All I wanted, tbh tigerbalm: everyone else knows this but my parents are white Americans & they adopted me and my brothers who are Native and African American respectively tigerbalm: & you saw me, the Korean girl so ihatemyguts: Ohh tigerbalm: it sounds like a show that should air on ABC family, right? tigerbalm: hella awkward ihatemyguts: I'm brainstorming (p. sure we're not meant to say that, soz) titles rn ihatemyguts: inappropriate question alert, verbal smackdowns appreciated if needed ihatemyguts: did they adopt you knowing you were disabled or is that a new development? tigerbalm: I was gonna call it building bridges but we can't really say that the USA has wronged Korea like the other nations tigerbalm: though they did adopt me knowing so maybe it still works 😄 ihatemyguts: it's got legs tigerbalm: 🦿 ihatemyguts: Ugh, must dash ihatemyguts: 🩸💉s tigerbalm: best of luck ihatemyguts: 💕 total pro by now 💪 brainpain: if I don't 👀 you on my stream I'll 🔎 you here in the forums inandout: a threatening goodbye inandout: can't compete tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👋 Hope to see you back here, Zelda tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: though you wouldn't be the first person to 👻 after dropping in, so no pressure, @Lauren gotspoons: but actually, we're always here, some of us more than others, but you'll always find someone to chat to about the things you can't with non-spoonies ihatemyguts: ✌
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I wrote a thing and I was wondering if you would read it? It's a bubbline fic. It's called i could live without you (just don't want to) If you left a comment on what you thought I would greatly appreciate it. (Also apparently you can't post links in asks!? Who the heck thought of that?)
would you believe ao3 had the AUDACITY to tell me my comment was too long? outrageous. check below the cut.
It’s a little awkward to have Bonnie’s hand actually hit Marceline’s chest. Stand in front of your door and open it. Picture where the person on the other side is. There’s more space there than could be comfortably crossed by a casual arm swing from knocking. She would’ve struck air.
Set the scene more clearly. Has Bonnie ever been to this house before? It seems like she hasn’t but the reader doesn’t know that. We have no idea the pre-established relationship (whatever that is) between them either, so we don’t know if it’s even reasonable to expect that Bonnie has been here before. The lack of context also raises questions about the stuttering, especially since Marceline uses a nickname quite easily right at the start. Basically what I’m getting at here is that there’s a disconnect between how familiar they’re being with each other; Marceline is being real casual/familiar but Bonnie seems to be treating this like they’re strangers (or the next thing to it). Shoot for a little more consistency.
Following on from this point: the house is lovely? We have to take Bonnie’s word for it. You don’t have to go into any great amount of detail, just give us the top three things that make it lovely (well-lit, classy decorations, homey, photos on the walls, colour scheme, tidy - just a few ideas, fill it in how you think lovely looks!). Also not expecting you to have a floor plan (unless this is a longfic in the making and we’ll be spending a lot of time here, then yeah make a floorplan for your reference and consistency), but in your head you should know where things are and where the characters are going. So where’s this hallway in relation to where we started? Did we go through any rooms? Are there doors? What the heck is this rope??? Explain (from Bonnie’s POV) as she tries to figure out what’s going on before it happens, our brains work quickly, try and throw some of that in there.
Be careful using traits/descriptors in place of names as well. It can be useful when the character is a stranger (referring to them as ‘the tall guy’ or whatever if it’s a defining trait) but we know who these two are, use their names. Or pronouns. I find the best way to use pronouns in place of names is that the last character who’s name was used gets the following pronoun.
Description of the bedroom is pretty good, we have no guidelines to go by though; is this like the rest of the house? How tall is the house? Were the on the bottom floor and the attic is the only other floor? Or did they go up stairs? How on EARTH did a piano get up there? Strange items? Those seem like a focus point; take Bonnie’s personality into account: she’s the sort of curious where she sticks her nose where it shouldn’t be regardless of consequences. Plus ‘strange’ is the sort of word that readers will expect exploration for. Be careful of wording; Bonnie’s not analysing this, just taking it in. If you want her to be analysing, give us some more thought processes. What does she think of these things, is there anything in particular drawing her attention, is she uncomfortable and why, etc.
This is the first mention of them being in school together? There’s a basement? Definitely work on figuring out how all the rooms fit together.
Coming back to my point about setting your scene rn bc Bonnie has a crush? We are just learning this. Also why is Marceline tickling her? That’s VERY comfortable. I feel like we defs need some more details about their relationship as it stands. Especially now that Bonnie is using a nickname.
Careful with transitions. Felt like a whirlwind of situation changes happened right there between Bonnie lying down, Marceline leaving (??? not good host etiquette), Marceline coming back, the tickling??? and then the alcohol announcement. There’s very little to help with those transitions or explain any reasoning behind them.
(This is probably as good a time as any to just ask you to be careful with your speech tags and punctuation. Is Bonnie giggling the ‘stop’ or is she saying that around giggles or is she saying that and THEN giggling? Please don’t overuse smirk. It’s a great word for a sassbox like Marceline but too much smirking and it just becomes the smile of a shit-stirrer.)
Again: transitions. Marceline is pouting now. Describe it. Is this different? Has she got a reputation for being the sort of person who’s pouts folks can’t say no to? If not consider how that factors in. Please also ask where Marceline got the alcohol, why she’s drinking it, how old they are, why Bonnie is making this exception, Marceline’s motives behind sharing it (is it bc she wants to look cool? Does she understand what sorts of things Bonnie thinks are cool?). Also ask what YOUR motive is for the alcohol. Is it just to lower inhibitions and get them to talk more freely than they usually would? If that’s the case, reevaluate your use of it. It should serve a purpose for the characters as well as for you. (Pet peeve: this is an especially tricky situation for other reasons: they’re underage and consent. It’s brought up heaps in other fics, I know, but it’s worth considering anyway.)
Tie your references to blushing into what else is going on at the time. Otherwise they feel disjointed; like things you’re just reciting. Don’t give us facts! Give us emotion!
Check your tenses. By which I mean just make sure you’re not switching between past and present tense accidentally when referring to multiple actions in a single sentence. (Should be ‘plopped’.) “Shook her head yes” - check that, should be nods I think, yes? Yeah just some grammar issues here and there, a few missing words and tense mix ups, punctuation problems, capitalisation. Nothing major (we all do it) just make sure you check for them.
Use of omniscient narrator for the briefest of seconds. I get that you’re trying to convey to the reader that Marceline has a crush too, but Bonnie has thus far been your sole narrator so if she can’t hear something we shouldn’t either. Alternatively, grab a Virginia Woolf novel and welcome to the omniscient narrator club!
New speaker = new paragraph. But same speaker = same paragraph. You’ve split up some of Marceline’s dialogue into two paragraphs which can be confusing. Marceline is playing music she wrote? Why? Is she shy about this? Does she do it often? Again, is it bc she’s trying to impress? Is it bc she’s going on drunk?
Marceline is getting her way a lot. We, the reader, know why. Consider from their perspective though: does Marceline know why? Does she suspect? Does she feel guilty for pressuring Bonnie? How does Bonnie feel about it? Growing frustration? A little bit of that patented Hopeless Gay™?
Why the boredom? If this was a planned get together why did neither of them think about what they were gonna do? Bonnie especially would be the type to have a plan. She probably googled ‘platonically hanging out with your crush’ to see what came up lol.
The innuendo at the end feels a bit rushed, too. But that could just be bc we haven’t seen any of the build up to this. Have they been pining for several years (unlikely if they’re in high school)? Is it the alcohol talking? Is Marceline joking? How can we tell? Is she phrasing it like that just to get a rise out of Bonnie? What does she think NOT getting that rise out of Bonnie?
Anyway that was a lot of rambling I’m very sorry. Overall a good tight storyline, it starts, it builds and it concludes satisfactorily. You just need to practice writing as a thought-process sorta thing, I’m not sure how to explain it better than as a connecting of ideas together. I mean I won’t claim to be great at that sometimes I force a situation to get to where I wanna go (sometimes you have to), but yeah just check in with your characters, plan things out (doesn’t have to be a huge spread out thing, just make a few notes about where things are) and ask questions! To question your story and motives can only make it better! It’s all that background stuff that the reader doesn’t see that makes up this underlying network of ideas, concepts, actions and characterisation that really holds up the plot and keeps shit consistent!
And that is… all the advice I’ve got! Sorry if any of it came out sounding a lil brusque it’s been a loooooong day u.u
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Bonds that Bind Us
Summary: Odin ordered for Loki to return to Midgard as punishment to atone for what he did in New York and S.H.I.E.LD agreed.
She was not expecting an assignment such as this to fall on her lap but she had nothing better to do. How bad could it be being Loki's warden?
Pairing: Loki x OFC Omidah Penwinkle
Warnings: multiple chapter story, violence, experimentation, language, angst, just to name a few.
A/N: Hello everyone! First off thank you for reading. Now, this story can be found on my AO3 account Onyx_Lenora_Traise and I wanted to post this on Tumblr. Enjoy!
Omidah looked up from the book she was reading when she heard someone call her name. Ever since she agreed (was forced) to live in the Avengers tower, all quiet time and privacy went out the window. She saw her godfather Coulson enter the room, a grim look on his face
(A/N: he's very much alive in this story. Always been one of my favorite characters from Avengers)
"what's wrong? You look real distressed," Coulson sighed and sat next to her, he was not happy with the news he had to tell her but it was Fury's orders
"Fury has assigned you to a mission but I don't think you're going to like it; I sure as hell don't."
Omidah raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in her eyes, she knew all too well that when her godfather wasn't happy with a mission she had (which was rare), it was dangerous and life threatening and those were the best kind for her.
She giggled, "finally something to do! Please tell me it's really dangerous with lots of fighting,"
Coulson rolled his eyes at her excitement over the matter, she really was a strange young lady.
"Do you remember Thor's brother the infamous Loki?"
"yeah I remember him, how could I not? I nearly whooped his ass when he tried to escape from the helicarrier and I would have succeeded too if I didn't have you to worry about. I still owe him a beating for nearly killing you."
She knew that if Coulson had faced Loki alone that day and gotten the injuries he had without immediate medical assistance, he would have died
"Thor is bringing Loki back here on earth as a punishment from Odin to atone for his actions and he'll be confined to the tower with you as his warden."
Omidah stayed quiet processing the information related to her. She started to laugh. Coulson shot her a confused look.
"Oh my Ra! Do you have any idea how deliciously ironic this is?"
Coulson shivered when his goddaughter cackled (you know that comical laugh in animes when a twisted plan was in place?)
"So when will he be arriving? Where will he be sleeping? I need to prepare....oh my there is so much I need to look after."
Coulson shook his head in disbelief, she was taking this news well, too well for his liking
"Calm down Omidah sheesh, you're behaving like its your long lost friend that's coming for a visit. Why are you so excited anyways?"
She rolled her eyes "It's not everyday you get to meet a Norse god and now I'm gonna know two of them, plus I can finally have questions answered on magic and literature."
"Why can't you just ask Thor about all of that stuff"
"No offense to Thor but he doesn't really know the in-depth knowledge I seek and from what he's told me about his brother, well apart from what I've researched, Loki is like a walking, living fricking Norse encyclopedia. I'm kinda hoping also that he can give me an insight on some of my abilities, still rusty in some aspects.
Coulson give Omidah a have-you-lost-your-marbles-kind of look, she just smiled
"Relax I know what I'm doing, besides he's going to be here for a long time and eventually he will have to talk to someone, so I volunteer as tribute."
"I have to remember to get your brain checked for loose screws"
Omidah faked a gasp and threw a cushion at Coulson making him laugh
"but all jokes aside, I know what I'm getting myself into. The others won't agree with my methods of doing things but I never fail a mission. If Odin is sending Loki here to atone for what he did, he's not going to do so by being distant and locking himself in his assigned room which I have a good feeling he'll do,"
"So what's your game plan then," Coulson asked
"quite simple actually, I'm going to be his friend" she flashed Coulson a smile *any second now 3,2,1.....*
"YOU'RE GOING TO WHAT!?"
.
.
.
.
Sitting in the lounge, Omidah poured over the numerous files sent to her by Fury. The files contained information on the objective of her mission and information on Loki which she didn't need but due to protocol Fury sent them to her anyways.
Getting up and heading to the kitchen, she grabbed a glazed donut and a cup of coffee and headed back to the sofa. She needed to finish compiling her report of how she'll go about executing her mission; leave it up to the Director to give her extra homework. When she reentered the sitting area Tony was reading one of her files.
"If that was meant to kill someone you would be dead right now. Tony why do you have to be so nosy?"
Tony looked up from the file and grinned "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't love me my dear."
"You're like the cousin I never had Tony, of course I love you. It's your need to poke your nose in everyone's business is what errs me," she said matter of factly.
Tony glanced back at the file he just read, an eyebrow arched upwards
"So eye-patch finally decided to give you a mission after 6 months and he felt it was a good idea to have you babysit a temperamental Norse god?"
"I'm not complaining, its better than nothing and besides I'm looking forward to this mission and before you ask why, it cause I think it will be a great challenge for me."
Tony studied her for a few seconds "knowing you and I know you quite well, it's more than one reason. Just be careful okay kiddo?"
Omidah walked over and gave him a quick hug "I'll be fine Tony, what I'm worried about is how you and everyone else feels about having Loki in the tower"
Rolling his eyes Tony flicked Omidah's nose "the hell Tony, what was that for?"
"Just felt like it and we'll be fine just as long as Reindeer games behaves."
She and Tony both knew it was easier said than done.
It took one week for Omidah to have everything prepared for Loki's arrival. Looking down at her watch, it showed half past one. She was informed that Thor would be bringing Loki by two.
Dressed in a simple olive turtleneck sweater and black jeans accompanied by ankle high boots, she stood on the balcony standing a distance away from the helipad.
Shifting her eyes back to her watch which now showed half past two. Omidah groaned in annoyance *Thor is late.....which is not really like him.....what's taking them so long?*
"Well this is very unprofessional, unless Odin changed his mind and decided to keep Loki imprisoned on Asgard." She frown at the idea "Oh goddess I hope that isn't the case,"
Pulling out her work phone she was about to speed dial Fury when a bright light descended from the sky and landed on the helipad. As quickly as it came, it vanished and left standing was Thor and beside him the infamous Loki as Coulson likes to call him.
She breathed a sigh of relief glad they didn't cancel at last minute but pulled a straight face and decided to mess with Thor a little bit for making her wait.
"Thor you are late by thirty minutes and twenty-five seconds, I was beginning to wonder if plans were cancelled."
Thor flashed her a quick grin "Lady Omidah I apologize for the delay but there was a slight mishap before our departure," he grumbled the last part while gliding his eyes in Loki's direction.
Omidah had to refrain herself from snickering. Leave it up to the God of Mischief to cause a mishap
"I see. Well mishaps do happen" she said with a shrug "but you're still late, so to make it up to me, you are not allowed pop tarts for the next week."
Omidah watched as Thor became slightly pale and looked like he was about to pass out. She started to laugh because he just looked like a lost puppy
"Thor I'm joking, I would never deny you pop tarts, you'll simply go into a coma without them but you still have to make up for being late okay?"
Thor breathed in relief and smiled "I'm thrilled that my pop of tarts will not be taken away from me and once again I'm sorry for the delay,"
Nodding she began to walk over to the brothers, a perplexed look crossed her features when she noticed the muzzle around Loki's mouth. The darn thing looked very uncomfortable and she thought it was very unnecessary. It angered her slightly. Wasn't Loki a prince of Asgard? Why was he being treated like an animal?
"Thor I would very much appreciate it if you removed that infernal contraption off your brother and please for the love of the river Nile take off these chains, he looks very uncomfortable. He's not a prisoner in Asgard but a guest in the Tower," She said with a slight irritation in her voice.
She felt eyes on her, so shifting her gaze from Thor she found Loki staring at her in confusion.
"Well if he didn't try to escape the moment he felt the dungeons, he wouldn't be in chains"
"Regardless he's here now so take 'em off, we still need to get him settled plus I need to report to Fury in the next half hour. You and I both know he gets like a cranky old lady when he's kept waiting"
Thor faced Loki preparing to remove the 'infernal contraption' as Omidah called it. Once it was off, the chains were next. Loki gently rubbed his wrists and looked back at the female across from him.
She sent him a gentle smile which only confused him further. He searched her eyes and found no hostility in them, just curiosity and slight excitement.
"Much better, thank you Thor. Well let me be the first to welcome you back to Stark Towers Mr. Laufeyson. My name is Omidah Pennwinkle and I'll be looking over you as you stay here." She grinned at her intro speech and the look of sheer confusion and disgust in Loki's eyes. He really didn't want to be there.
"Come gentlemen, there is much to do and I have...." glancing at her watch she turned and slowly started to walk back inside "fifteen minutes to do so before my boss starts screaming like a banshee in my eyes for reporting late."
The two brothers looked at her retreating form, glanced at each other and followed her through the waiting door. Loki groaned internally, he really didn't want to be there.
#loki laufeyson#loki#loki (marvel)#original character#female character#mcu#marvel mcu#avengers#loki x oc
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