#i do not need anything i am just processing and venting

[azaharinflames]

I just want to get over this. Like why am I still so sad about that how many weeks later? But I am. And I also want to hold out hope but maybe it’s better to quit because the not knowing for sure and just being sad all the time is a lot.

Hi, @phillystrega! Thanks for your ask <3

Listen, I fully get it. Real talk here, I spent a solid week with constant anxiety after 806 - granted, it wasn't just because of 911, it was sort of the straw that broke the camel's back after a lot of shit had happened in the world and my personal life, so.

At the end of the day, 911 was supposed to be our comfort show. And I think, having something like this happen, seeing everything that has happened before, has made it so it stopped being that, and that's bound to hurt.

Your feelings are normal. It was more than a couple we liked breaking up - in context, sure, but also in what meant right after. I said it right after - it truly felt like they responded to the love we tried to send into the world with hate, and they responded to hate from that side of the fandom with love.

It wasn't entirely like that. But at the time it very much felt like that. And it's normal to still be dealing with feelings surrounding that.

Here is my advice (feel free to not take it if it's shit lol):

Focus on life in the fandom if it's fun for you. The BuckTommy fandom truly helped me process my feelings and channel them toward something more positive. Talk to people, be creative, see everyone's art and posts... it truly is healing.

Block anything that threatens your peace of mind. That being accounts, hashtags, or even keywords, so you don't find it in your dash.

Go back to your comfort shows if you have any, or try to find a new one if you feel you need to latch onto a new one. I'm here if you want suggestions. No joke, binge-watching Modern Family made me feel incredibly better.

If you have a hobby, dedicate some time to it. Or try a new one if you want. I had to embroid a tote bag for one of my best friend's birthday and honestly, it truly helped. So much so I want to do some embroidery as Christmas ornaments - we'll see how that works lmao (I sound 60 when I'm mid-twenties, dear God).

All of this will slowly take you out of this mentality, mostly because you will focus on other things. I realized I was focusing too much on how all of this was making me feel - and as much as it's healthy to face our feelings and know where they come from, we don't want to fall into a cycle, or drown in them.

After all of this, with a bit more perspective, maybe it's easier to make the decision of either continue, or move on. You can also stay in the fandom and enjoy it with no expectations, maybe check every once in a while how canon is doing. And if at some point you decide it's worth checking again, you can do it. And if you decide to fully move on, that will also be okay. Overall - protect your peace.

This was very long, but I truly hope it helped you, even if it was a little.

My inbox is always open to rant, vent, or discuss (911 or whatever you want).

Take care <3

[doing-downtime-hero-shit]

I know it is ok to make mistakes. I know it is ok to listen to my body and take breaks when I need to

I am also terrified I am going to get in trouble at work because I had such an awful day last shift and left early and had basically nothing done

Rly not sure what else I COULD do since I kept getting nauseous and wonky headed and stuck in the bathroom every like 20 minutes trying to wait it out

I just. Have fear and guilt. Especially since it's right before a holiday and we r gonna be busy.

[auphelia]

-

[thethingything]

finally processing that we're probably gonna have to have these teeth removed with either sedation or general anaesthetic and unfortunately I have a phobia of both of these to the point where just thinking about it gives us panic attacks and I genuinely don't know what to do because I absolutely want to avoid this at all costs but we also might not have any other option

[kidfoundonstreets]

i have so much hangouts its a little exhausting its fun dwdw just ahfh one finally screwed over another event (two times) in a clash and now i feel awful

[atomicengineerdetective]

No one talk to me I just came back from a family vacation to find out my favorite youtuber ever is leaving the platform.

I am devastated.

(I am actually happy for him, he has given me so much happiness for like 8 years. He deserves to let the channel go an enjoy his life. It just hurts, but I'll get over it

I'm so thankful for MatPat and Steph. I Hope every future endeavour or project they take on is successful and that over all they have a happy and fulfilling life with Ollie.💚❤️💛💙)

[phagodyke]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better

[celestialmancer]

⛈️ //

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[passengerprincessblog]

“Too Rough”~ Max Verstappen short

WARNINGS: SMUT! NSFW! Mean max, degrading? Rough blowjob.

Summary: After a brutal press conference where doubts about his championship prospects are thrown at him, Max storms back to his room, seething with frustration. When his anger spills over onto Y/N, she stands her ground, igniting a tense, charged moment between them.

The door slammed shut, and Max stormed into the room, his expression thunderous. I barely had a chance to stand before his voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Unbelievable,” he spat, pacing back and forth, hands flexing with barely restrained fury. “They actually think I’d lose to Lando? Lando.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as if the very thought was a personal insult. “I’m the best out there, and they’re acting like I’m already washed up.”

I could see the anger twisting his features, his jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t cracked a tooth. I stepped forward, cautiously, reaching out. “Max, it’s just press talk. You know how they are. Don’t let it get to you—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to make me pull back. His eyes, usually so bright and clear, were dark and narrowed, focusing on me with an intensity that felt almost hostile. “They’re talking to me like I’m a nobody, and now you’re here, acting like I need some… some kind of pep talk.” His words were biting, dripping with disdain.

I swallowed, feeling a sting from his harsh tone but choosing to ignore it. “I just thought maybe you needed someone to be here for you, that’s all. You don’t have to carry it alone, Max.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Alone? You don’t get it, do you? I’m not some charity case that needs your comfort. I’m Max Verstappen. I don’t need anyone, especially not someone telling me to ‘not let it get to me.’ If you’re not going to say something useful, maybe you should just go.”

The words cut deeper than I’d expected, each syllable sharper than the last. But I stayed silent, letting him vent, knowing this wasn’t really about me. I’d seen him like this before, on the worst days, when nothing went according to his plan. I knew he’d push everyone away if it meant keeping his pride intact.

Still, it didn’t make it hurt any less. I took a small breath and steadied myself, speaking softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Max. Even if you think you don’t need me.”

He just glared at me, and I could feel the weight of his frustration directed fully on me now. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me like I was another one of his problems. I looked at him, hoping he’d see that I wasn’t backing down, but that only seemed to irritate him more.

“What?” he snapped, his voice rough and unyielding. “What? What’s wrong with you? Don’t look at me like that.”

A flicker of defensiveness sparked in me, and I crossed my arms, taking a small step back. “I’m not even doing anything, Max.”

His jaw clenched tighter, and his stare hardened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He took a step toward me, his presence overwhelming as he loomed closer. “Watch it,” he warned, his voice low and dripping with a threat that sent a shiver down my spine. “I’ll make you regret opening that mouth.”

The tension was thick, charged with a mixture of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. My breath caught as his gaze bore into mine, challenging me to either stand my ground or step back. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Not tonight.

“Fine,” I replied softly, my voice steady. “Do whatever you want, Max.”

Before I could process what was happening, his hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me to him, our faces mere inches apart. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze sent a jolt through me.

“Excuse me?” he whispered, his tone dangerously low. “Watch your tone. Do you know who I am?” His grip tightened just slightly, grounding me in place. “Do I need to fix that mouth?”

My heart raced, my breath shallow as his words hung in the air, thick and laced with a challenge I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet

Without warning, he pushed me backwards, his hands gripping my shoulders and shoving me down onto my knees. The cold tile floor was hard against my skin as I knelt before him, looking up at his towering figure.

"Look at you," he sneered, his gaze raking over my body. "On your knees where you belong. Maybe this is what you need to remember your place."

His hands moved to his belt, undoing it with practiced ease. The sound of his zipper lowering made my heart race, and I watched as he pulled out his already hard cock, stroking it slowly.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And don't you dare make me ask twice."

I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing. But the look in his eyes told me that disobeying would only make things worse. With trembling hands, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his shaft, feeling the hot, velvety skin beneath my touch.

"That's better," he purred, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Now put that mouth to good use. Show me how sorry you are for pissing me off."

I leaned forward, parting my lips and taking him into my mouth. The taste of him filled my senses. I worked my tongue along his length, trying to please him, to make up for my earlier comment.

But it wasn't enough. His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back roughly. "Is this all you've got?" he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "I thought you were supposed to be good at this. Guess I was wrong."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I didn't dare protest. Instead, I took him deeper, relaxing my throat and letting him slide further into my mouth.

His grip on my hair tightened, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held me in place. "That's it," he growled, his hips thrusting forward, forcing himself deeper into my mouth. "Take it all, like the good little slut you are."

I gagged slightly, my throat constricting around his thick length. But I didn't fight it, instead focusing on pleasing him, on making up for my earlier mistake. My tongue swirled around his shaft, tracing the veins and ridges, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

"Fuck, that's better," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Maybe you're not completely useless after all."

I felt a surge of pride at his words, even as they stung. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder, my head bobbing up and down his length. My hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into his skin as I worked him over.

"Yeah, just like that," he hissed, his hips rocking faster now, fucking my face with abandon. "Keep going, don't stop until I tell you to."

I complied, my jaw aching from the strain, my lips stretched wide around his girth. Saliva dripped down my chin, pooling on the floor beneath us. The wet, obscene sounds of my sucking filled the room, mingling with his grunts and moans.

"Goddamn, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "I should keep you on your knees like this all day, every day. Would you like that, baby? "

I whimpered around his cock, the degrading words sending a shameful thrill through me. I knew it was wrong, knew that I shouldn't enjoy being treated this way.

After a few more moments, I felt his movements become erratic, his breathing growing ragged. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep in my throat, his cock pulsing as he found his release. I swallowed quickly, desperate to take everything he gave me, not wanting to waste a single drop.

He held me there for a long moment, his grip on my hair loosening slightly as he caught his breath. Then, with a soft curse, he pulled away, his spent cock slipping from between my lips.

I looked up at him, my vision blurry, my face flushed and tear-streaked. He stared down at me, his expression softening just a fraction. One hand reached out, gently stroking my hair, almost tenderly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice gruff. "I was too rough, maybe. I let my anger get the best of me."

There was a hint of regret in his words, but it was overshadowed by a condescending note, as if he were patting me on the head, reassuring a child.

He helped me to my feet, his hands lingering on my hips for a moment before he kisses me softly.

"Go clean yourself up," he ordered, his voice back to its usual brusque tone.

————————————————

Note: welp 😅🚨💀

Lmk if you want more! Liking and following let’s me know you want more writings! 💜

[sannasruins]

no longer your person

gojo satoru x reader

type: angst, breakup

warnings: reader gets broken up with, no pronouns or y/n, sad sitting on the floor

a/n: total vent post because i am feeling insecure in my relationship lol

word count: 900

He looked at you, his eyes filled with pity, but they were an unfamiliar cold blue. Like artic ice shooting straight into your heart instead of a warm sky that embraced you.

“You’re a good person, and I love you,” he started, his eyebrows furrowed in distress. “But you’re not my person anymore. And I just, and not in love with you anymore.”

Your throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton and your chest tightened in a way that you had never felt before.

“Wha-,” you choked on the first word out of your mouth, “what do you mean Satoru?”

“I just,” he ran a hair through his hair, frustrated at his lack of words to express how he was feeling. “I just can’t do this anymore. I feel stuck. I feel like I can’t grow, grow past the person I was when I met you. This relationship, its suffocating me and it’s killing my potential.”

Your mouth hung open slightly, eyes glassy with unshed tears. These cruel words he was saying with his sweet voice that used to whisper honeyed little nothings into your ear as he held you.

“Where… where is this coming from Satoru?” You questioned him, it was already hard to process what he was trying to get across to you, but now your mind was filling with questions. “I thought we were good, we, we are in love Gojo Satoru.”

He pursed his lips at you, his face was filled with melancholy now, he didn’t want you to take it this way, he wanted it to be easy. That was naive of him.

“It’s been coming for a while, I’m sure you have felt it. Us growing apart, the distance between us expanding. Even talking to you has been hard for a while.” he looked down at his hands, wringing them.

He was right of course; you had felt a tear form your relationship quite a long time ago. But you thought it was just a rough patch, something the two of you had gone through before. With a talk and some understanding, you had hopped that you could stitch the tear right up and it just be added to the patchwork of your relationship.

Why hadn’t you talked to him about it sooner? Why did you wait for him to bring something up? Why didn’t you say anything.

“Can’t we fix this?” you looked at him beggingly, “I’m sure we can fix this, there’s no need for us to breakup, right?”

“No, I don’t think there is. I think we are long, long past the point of fixing it. I’m just full of resentment now.”

You breathed in hard, and your tears started to fall. Your shoulders shook with the force of your silent cries. Your face scrunched up in pain.

“Oh no, no,” he murmured, coming closer to you, “please? Please don’t cry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

You shook your head at him.

“Was I not enough? What, what did I do wrong?” You forced your words out past your tear clogged throat, “I’m so confused, why are you doing this to me? To us?”

He hugged you, brining you close into his familiar warmth and scent. It should be comforting but all it did was remind you that those were no longer yours, making you cry even harder, you whole body wracking with your anguish.

“You were more than enough, you gave me everything you could I’m sure of it,” he tried to reassure you, while stroking the top of your head. “It just…” he paused, contemplating what he wanted to say next, trying to soften the blow, “it isn’t the right enough for me, I need something different.”

Your legs gave out, and you sank to the floor, and he followed, embracing you as you sobbed.

Anger filled you as he held you, how dare he be so sweet and so kind while at the same time breaking your heart. So you pushed at his chest, “Let me go.”

He refused initially, he did still love you, and seeing you in this kind of distress caused him discomfort, the idea of leaving you alone in that state didn’t sit right with him.

You push harder and begged him to let you go, please, please leave me alone, go away, you didn’t want to see you anymore.

He pulled away to look into your reddened eyes, biting his lip in concern.

“Go away Gojo.” You looked at him with a steeled gaze. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to look at you anymore, I don’t want to be in your space, I don’t want to see you. Go. Away.”

Your words caused a pang in his heart, they were kind of words you had never spoken to him before, that kind of venom in your voice had never been heard by his ears. And to call him by his last name instead of his given name, you hadn’t done that in years, his name sounded foreign to him when you spoke it.

But he got up, slowly, and dusted himself off, before looking down at your crumpled form on the floor, folded in on itself. If you had looked, you would have seen an expression on his face that was truly unreadable.

He walked away, leaving you there, on the cold hard floor, grieving a person that didn’t seem to exist anymore, and a happiness you will never be able to replicate.

He was no longer your person, and you were no longer his.

[savanir]

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 2

part 1 is here and the og prompt can be found here again thanks for the prompt @mynameisjag as you can see I am not done with it yet

The aftermath of the gala was an absolute disaster in Jazz’s humble opinion.

At first she didn’t know what to think… 

When they wheeled out the body bag that supposedly had Vlad’s corpse in it, it just didn’t feel real.

Everything became a lot more real when her mom got back from her trip to the forensic lab, It really was Vlad. The GCPD went through this whole identification of the body process, everyone was already pretty damn sure for obvious reasons but they had to follow protocol. Elaborate time wasting in Jazz’s humble opinion.

Jazz stares at her phone while sitting in the overly expensive fancy hotel room fauteuil. All of a sudden she no longer really minded that Vlad had given them all their own private hotel room, the girl wasn’t stupid… She knew he did it in the hopes that her mom would magically change her mind about him and this way she wouldn’t get in the way. Interrupt them. Whatever.

But now it just gives her privacy and room to think. And think she does, thinking is all she seems able to do now.

This whole mess is just great rep for Gotham… ‘out of town millionaire gets assassinated on their first night in the city. zero hesitation’

People are mass sharing all the leaked dirt on Vlad on social media with the hashtag #Welcome to Gotham.

At the very least any potential harassment towards her or her mom was nipped in the bud once it became widespread that Vlad had actually hired some guy to kill her dad.

Ancients…

He hired a mercenary, some assassin, to kill her dad. Jazz vividly remembers when Danny would vent about the things Plasmius would threaten him with. but she always figured he did it to rile her brother up. 

For some reason she could believe the whole making her brother his son thing, just like she got the marrying her mom thing. And yet she never thought he would actually follow through on the murdering her dad thing.

…And what does this mean for Danny?

her phone is still blowing up but the only people she actually responds to are Sam and Tucker. Sam is mostly worried, asking how they are holding up and if she needs to come over and kick some corrupt police butt, or overly pushy paparazzi butt, or just nosy people in general butt. The offer is sweet but Jazz already saw how her mom verbally tore the rumour about a ‘battered wife/gold digger’ situation apart with facts and logic, so she’s not worried.

Jazz supposes that’s a good thing that somehow came out of all this… her mom got some of her spark back. 

Meanwhile Tucker is all in the GCPD systems and sharing the results of the police investigation with the rest of the team.

because of that Jazz knows that the Bats have already shown up to do their own brand of investigating, and also that the police don’t know shit.

It figures… The police also didn’t know shit when her dad was murdered and Danny got kidnapped. And they were all too happy to accept the fake dead Danny that got found in the forest, welp, kid found, he’s dead, case closed.

useless.

It’s been several days now and it’ll probably take another week or so before something concrete gets brought to the public.

Jazz thought she might get a vigilante visit at some point but they haven’t shown up yet. At least not to ask her anything… who knows maybe they have already spoken with her mom and she simply decided not to tell her as to not distress her or something, that would make sense.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

It’s late in the evening now but she checked up on her mom earlier that day, she had been furiously going through all the things Vlad had gifted her and tossing them in a tiny and overly full garbage can.

“Jazzikins, once this whole thing is over we should head straight to his Wisconsin estate and burn it to the ground” Jazz can already see the fire burning in her mom’s eye, she’s completely serious.

“that will probably be extremely suspicious and get us in a lot of trouble mom” It would be very cathartic though, she will admit that.

Jazz had sat down and watched her mom go about her business, exorcizing Vlad from her life perhaps.

Eventually her mom sighed and asked, “how long do we still have to stay in this awful place?”

"We have to be available for the GCPD because they are still doing their investigation. They will most likely still have some questions, and i want to make sure there will be no misunderstandings with the notary later as well"

"That's my smart girl" Maddie pinches Jazz's cheek, "what do they still even have to investigate... though, perhaps it would be a good thing if they found his killer, that way I might be able to thank them myself"

Jazz winces, "Mom..."

"You're too sweet jazzy, you got that from your father" Maddie gives Jazz a kiss on the forehead before she goes back to what she was doing before.

Internally Jazz disagrees with her, she doesn't feel bad for Vlad at all, she's just looking at the bigger picture because she has info nobody else does.

Whoever killed Vlad was prepared to kill a halfa... and the implications of that fact terrify her and give her hope at the same time.

Danny is still out there somewhere, but he's most likely being exploited in some way.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

And here she is, still staring at her phone, refreshing the feed and gradually feeling more worse as she skims the headlines.

the psychiatrist in her is telling her she’s doom scrolling and it’s unhealthy, what is she even looking for here? If the authorities identify the killer, will they even tell her? Tell her mom? they probably would to ‘aid with the grieving process’. but that tends to only happen when they have actually caught the killer.

And who knows when that will happen.

This is pointless anyway, if something useful gets found out Tucker will most likely be the first to know out of all of them.

Jazz refreshes the feed again.

nobody seems to think a Gotham rogue did it, they would have made it a spectacle. 

No, all the theories seem to think it was most likely the work of underground crime syndicates, or Vlad pissed someone off in some other country while doing business, and Gotham was simply the easiest place to get him killed, even though now the Bats are on the case. or, or…

She groans, gets up and makes herself some tea when she hears it. She’s turned around with the Fenton Anti-Creep stick raised and ready before she really knows what she’s doing and she sees two figures emerge from the shadows. Big and small. Batman and Robin.

Robin pointedly looks at the creep stick, batman disregards it entirely, "we would like to ask some questions"

Jazz looks at batman and then at Robin and then just sighs, grabs her tea, accepts that this is happening, sits down with the stick ready to go at any time and says, "go ahead"

Robin takes a strategic spot closer to the window, perched on the back of the gaudy couch for some reason and Batman gets closer perhaps to loom over her more? But he also sticks to the shadows, perhaps to make her feel a bit less intimidated with the distance? She decides to just stop thinking about it from that point on.

Batman goes over the statements Jazz already gave to the police, she mostly focuses on her drink while she elaborates on some of the things she said, but eventually…

“Most people seem to think this was an act of revenge but when the police asked you what you think the reason is why Masters got murdered you simply stated you don’t know, judging by the footage of the interrogation you were agitated”

Jazz frowns, “it had been a long day, at the time I wanted it to be over with”

“These statements are vital, especially from close acquaintances”

Her jaw tightens, “so you would like me to give a proper answer now?”

Batman stays quiet,

“The revenge part is obvious, but I just don’t think that’s all there is to it. I think someone wanted shut him up”

“and why would you think that?”

Jazz thinks very carefully and makes a decision.

“Vlad was not an easy man to kill…” she trails off, still thinking about how she’s going to explain this one properly, without revealing everything.

Batman stays quiet again, Robin however pipes up, “Because he’s rich?” 

She had basically forgotten he was there and there is a moment where she just blinks at him still perched on the back of the couch, “Well, as I am sure you both have seen by now he was more than capable of paying his problems to go away, but no, that’s not what I meant”

“hrn, go on”

Jazz swirls what little tea she has left and kind of wishes it was actually some kind of alcohol… even though she’s too young for that, and then she goes on, “Vlad was not human, not fully anyway, I don’t… know… exactly what his other half was-”

 A lie, but Batman decides to leave it be for now, no need to interrupt the young lady here, if he were to point it out she might clam up and stop talking entirely. 

"-He had gifts, one of them is intangibility, another invisibility"

They are aware that something is very different about Vladimir Masters. That much became clear when they activated the scanners they got in the forensic lab and took a good look at the corpse themselves. Those results confirmed some of the claims and accusations that everyone saw during the gala.

And it seems those close to the man knew of it as well.

Jazz goes on,

"Whoever attacked him must have been prepared for that... and considering there are only four people who know about it at all, that is… before… you know," she trails off.

"Only four" Robin mutters. 

Batman glances at the boy before asking, "Who knew?"

"Uh, me. Uhm two friends of mine who are currently back in Amity Park... and my brother, Danny"

"Tt, So that's three"

"Robin-" 

"My brother is not dead!" Jazz slams her hands on the table,  "The monster who killed my father kidnapped him, and now they are using him! The body that was found in the woods is a fake, planted by Vlad so my mom would stop looking and focus on him instead"

"Why would he-" Robin starts to ask while keeping a careful eye on the absolute vehemence coming from Jazz. One thing is very clear to both him and Batman though, Jazz believes what she’s saying wholeheartedly.

"He was an idiot, and obsessed with my mom. That's a very long and frankly unimportant story, but the proof is all in Vlad's lab in the basement of his estate. I can proof the body that was found was fake, my brother is alive" she buries her head in her hands, suddenly all the anger seems to be replaced with sorrow, 

"he's alive"

Robin shuffles uncomfortably side to side. He's gotten better at comforting distressed civilians but he's a little out of his depth right now. seeing as this is sorta his fault right now.

He looks over to his father to see what he'll do.

Batman just looks contemplative. Which isn’t useful for the boy at all.

It's then that Nightwing speaks up through the communicators to them, "B, I'll go to Amity Park and investigate both the Fenton household where the attack happened and then check out her proof at Masters estate"

Batman really doesn't like the full picture that's being painted here.

"Miss Fenton,"

Jazz rubs her hands over her face before taking a deep calming breath and giving batman her full attention again, "yes?"

"If I understand this right, you're saying you think the same assassin who took your father's life has now targeted Mr. Masters."

"Yes"

Robin shakes his head, "most assassins have some code of honor. It would certainly be a bad look to go after a former client like that"

Jazz scoffs,"Well it's been several months now. I don't know if Vlad kept in contact with that monster and managed to piss them off after the fact, that too could all be on his computers in his lab"

Batman grunts and  heads for the windows and Robin hops up to follow, "You'll hear from us miss Fenton"

She lets out a shaky breath when she's sure they have well and truly left. She figures she should update Sam and Tucker that she finally got a bat visit but the urge to refresh her social media and news feed doesn't come back.

With the supposed World’s Greatest Detective on the case she’s certain actual progress will finally be made.

She just hopes it’s not too late.

[kalims]

Hi, there! :D

I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.

I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)

Type: Headcanons

Reader: Neutral

Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?

I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .

whisk away

premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.

characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil

note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)

silver

has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!

fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?

last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?

someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.

just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.

"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."

gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.

kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.

jade

take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!

jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.

and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.

student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.

so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.

with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.

well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.

oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...

*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*

deuce

I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.

unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?

oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?

he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!

almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.

"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)

if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.

don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!

kalim

gasps loudly. "noooo!"

which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)

bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.

now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.

lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.

"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)

he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.

drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...

vil

what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.

although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.

so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.

what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*

don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.

plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.

who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.

frets over you right after. living the dream.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Heyy may I request dottore with a very sleepy (Fem/gn)Reader who always struggles with nightmares and staying awake

(idk what to do against my sleepiness :<)

Dottore, being a man of science, a doctor himself, has seen people go through various things. Whether it be painful to the person physically, mentally, or emotionally- he has seen it all. Even done it to others.

But when it comes to you, he wouldn't dare put you through that pain nor stress. So when he noticed something weird about your behavior. He has to know why.

Observation is always the first step a researcher must do in order to gather data. With his clipboard in hand, he watched you move around his office.

Subject: Y/N

Observations:

- Subject shows signs of lack of sleep due to the bags under their eyes.

- Subject has a hard time doing their assigned tasks; lack of focus, sluggish movements, constant yawning.

- When the Theta segment recommended them to sleep, subject reacted anxiously before declining their suggestion and stating they don't need it. Subject seems to be scared. Possibility that the subject is afraid of sleeping or something related to sleep?

Comments:

- Subject does not want to sleep due to something that is giving them constant fear. Best to question them on why they do not wish to sleep for almost a week now. Another solution is to give them a sedative that could help them recover the rest they needed.

After reviewing his notes for a second time and making sure he got everything, Dottore went off to find you.

"Darling?"

You hummed in reply, your tired eyes looking up at your partner. Dottore could only sigh when he saw the bags under your eyes becoming more worse by the day.

"Is there a reason on why you do not wish to slumber? I have noticed how you're struggling to even move around or speak due to your lack of rest. I suggest you tell me why, I'm beginning to worry that you might hurt yourself due to your fatigued mind."

You didn't give any replies, embarrassed about your reason. Already knowing that avoiding sleep would be pointless and the fatigue would catch up to you sooner. Your state couldn't even go unnoticed by the doctor himself.

So... how would you tell Dottore that you can't sleep due to your nightmares? Childish as it may, the constant horrific dreams you've been getting each day was the reason why you didn't bother to go back to sleep. Not even a wink or shuteye.

Without further delay, you decided to tell Dottore. The harbinger himself listening to every word, processing, even coming up with various solutions to at least comfort you. It's not really in his nature to do the latter but for you, he would do anything.

"Nightmares? And what, pray tell, are you having nightmares about? Is it due to the screams of the test subjects in their cells? The 'grotesque' view that others would find whenever I am in the middle of an experiment?"

Though the words he used may sound cold and blunt, the hand rubbing your head gave enough warmth and comfort. Dottore prefers to say things whatever it is.

What's the point of sugar-coating the truth when it's already in front of you, afterall? That is what Dottore would think.

Nevertheless, his actions does speak more than his words. He led you to sit on the couch he has in his office, letting you lean onto him as he gently pulled you by the waist to be closer to him while he listened to you vent out your nightmarish dreams.

"Is that so? I have a few suggestions that can be of help to you, darling. You see, I have concocted a little sedative, one that can easily make you fall asleep for.. let's say maybe twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Just enough to recover the rest you needed. I also have melatonin that could help you fall asleep. Hm.. maybe we should use them as a last resort."

Dottore had to be reminded that you cannot sleep due to your nightmares. Which caused him to stop in his rambles before crossing out the ideas he suggested.

He may have gotten a bit carried away.

You couldn't be upset at him, he is trying his best. It's the littlest things that matters, after all. Besides, he's never been in a serious relationship with anyone until you came into his life and you're probably the only one insane enough to even date the second harbinger.

"How about.. you sleep with me? You could use the rest too and I need someone to cuddle with so I don't get any nightmares."

"Cuddle? Darling, I am a doctor, a scientist. I may know the benefits of physical contact, hugging to be exact, to a person but I am not one to do such a thing--"

Dottore could even finish his sentence when you were already clinging onto him. Like a newborn to their parent, your arms were wrapped around the doctor's neck as you cuddled up to him. Said doctor could only lay stiffly on the couch, he really doesn't know what to do, you even pinned him down to the furniture and got into a position where you both would be comfortable. His fingers were twitching to flip the positions, with you laying on the couch instead so he could return to his work.

But you felt so warm and soft and so vulnerable even--

No. Bad. Keep yourself in check, Dottore.

"If you don't want to cuddle then it's alright. I can go back to my room."

Before you could even move away, Dottore kept you in place. His arms circling around your waist to keep you from getting out of his hold as he leaned his chin on top of your head. Luckily he wasn't wearing his mask or else it could have poked your eye.

"If this will be of help to let you sleep easier without anymore nightmares then go on ahead. You do know that the brain could eat itself if it lacks sleep for a long time."

You could only laugh in amusement at the information. Dottore would always tell science facts here and there whenever he is doing something very affectionately. It's an easy way to hide how flustered he is.

Your eyes started to feel heavy as you nuzzled more into Dottore's warmth. You felt something soft pressed against your forehead along with a small hum from the man holding you, causing you to smile as you slowly entered a deep slumber. Dottore's words being the last thing that you hear before entering your dreamland, this time, no more nightmares.

"Go to sleep now, darling. I'll be here till you wake up. I won't leave you alone with your nightmares this time."

[olderthannetfic]

Can I poke the bear for a moment and get angry? Because I'm seeing "posting as activism" more and more in fandom spaces, and tonight I saw a post that made me lose it.

There is a post about (current events) going around that says, "full offense, but in this time, your own comfort doesn't fucking matter, you should be uncomfortable about things that are happening, and I hope you can fucking live with yourselves if you are quiet. It takes five seconds to retweet or reblog, fuck your aesthetic, fuck your anything aesthetic."

And my god. How dare they.

Yes, there is severely fucked up shit happening. Yes, people should be aware that people are being killed. Yes, there are people who are just shrugging about it and pissing off. But how does reblogging a post certify someone as Good or Bad? How does this person know that someone hasn't already helped out meaningfully in some way, or is still helping out, but on other websites? How does this person know that someone isn't barely holding on by the skin of their teeth, and they would have a mental breakdown if they got closer to any more stressful things?

I know a multitude of people, including myself, who have recently either needed to call lines, check into facilities, move back in with their parents, or go on medication because of how insane things have become in their own lives. How does this person not understand that blogging; being on tumblr; engaging in fandom, having a small space that someone can control in its entirety, is a reprieve for people who are already at their wit's end outside of that space? And that's okay.

(We are not doing the relative privation shit in this house. I refuse to entertain that.)

Ironically, by insisting that people participate in sharing posts when they're already stressed and exhausted, that's a surefire way to make their problems worse, and potentially prevent them from acting helpfully in the future because suddenly, their exhaustion turns into full-blown burnout. That's how it works. Professionals tell you to dial things back if you are too overwhelmed. There is a reason for that. There is a limit to how much people can mentally process and handle. Compassion fatigue exists. For a lot of us, we are already at our limit. We need space to relax, and not have arbitrary obligations thrown on us. That is not our fault, it is not a character flaw, it does not mean we are bad people. And just because horrific things are happening elsewhere, it does not mean we can, or should, stop taking care of ourselves first. Yes, it feels shitty to think, "you know what, I can't reblog this". You bet your ass that I and my friends feel guilty about not being able to engage as much as we think we should, but that is how it goes. I can put my head underwater for a bit. But I cannot keep my head underwater forever. I will drown.

Not to mention the obvious part: guilt-tripping people to the extent of implying they are somehow contributing to genocide, just because they won't reblog a post, and implying they should not be able to live with themselves if they do that, is beyond revolting.

I am angry, and I am not sorry.

--

So many of those kinds of posts—and they turn up during every set of horrific real world events—sound like people who are in a country far away from the events, diaspora at most but probably just randos, venting their impotent rage because it's the only way they can feel productive in a situation where nothing they can do is productive.

[thewritergremlin-rae]

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall - Who's the Most Alien of Them All?

Pairing: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki, Thor, Brock Rumlow, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Frigga, Heimdall Rating: T Words: 3229 Content: 2nd person, kidnapping, chloroform, manipulation, soulmate AU, Hydra!SHIELD at work, set during/post Avengers 1 Summary: You'd never thought there was anything strange about your soulmate in the mirror, apart from how handsome he was, but as fate would have it - he's trying to invade New York. Ao3: HERE Notes: I am an absolute sucker for Soulmate AUs so here we are! I'm thinking of using this same AU for some others (Bucky and Steve) but I'm not sure if it'll be in same universe

In this AU, you see your soulmates face as your own reflection~ THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN WORK I accidentally deleted the original post so the read more doesn't work on my own blog 😭

Banners by cafekitsune

Something considered normal would rarely be considered wrong. 

So, registering your soulmate’s image via looking in a mirror at 18 and having a photo snapped had never worried you.

Everyone did it.

It was normal.

It was safe. 

It was how most people found their soulmates, and even then some just didn’t.

This early spring day started as every day usually did. You got up and ready for work, took public transport to the office, and logged in at 9 a.m. 

Lunch came and went, spent with the coworkers you got along with best, all venting about the small annoyances of the morning. You all returned to the office and the afternoon crawled by.

Last minute, your boss asked you to finish a report now rather than tomorrow morning and you waved goodbye to your co-workers with a shrug and a put-upon smile. They’d all been in your position at one time or another. No-one found it strange.

The report dragged on for a few hours and you had no idea why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but your boss was hardly known for his patience. He at least had the decency to stay behind too. 

You sighed and printed a quick copy before knocking on the door to your boss’s office. 

He called out and told you to come in, taking the report when you handed it over. His eyes barely scanned it before he spoke again; “Hey, I know it’s late, but we have a visitor in the conference room. Go keep them company, will you? It will just take a couple of minutes.” 

You bit back the sigh and the roll of your eyes, knowing both could lose you your job. Stupid, tight ass boss. “No problem, boss,” were the words that came out of your mouth, a false smile before you turned and left - heading to the conference room.

You took the liberty of rolling your eyes hard before you plastered the smile back on and pushed the door open. “Hello.” You stepped into the room and held out your hand as you gave your name. “Mr. Dickson is sorry to keep you waiting, but how can I help you?” 

Not the normal sort of client, if a client he was. Most clients showed up in suits or some sort of business attire, but this man wore a black T-shirt, combats, and a jacket certainly not of the suit kind. 

“Brock Rumlow.” He smirked over at you and you saw the way his eyes gave you a once over. Slowly. Urgh. Double ugh when he continued with; “No problem at all, sweetheart. Don’t suppose you could get me a coffee?”  He nodded over to the machine as he eased back into his seat. 

“Of course, sir,” you answered with a smile.

“Feel free to grab yourself one, too. Your boss sent you in here to keep me company, huh?” 

“Something like that, Mr. Rumlow.” The pot only needed warming before you poured two cups and offered him one, taking a seat opposite the man.

“I hope he doesn’t make you stay this late all the time, I hate it when my boss makes me work overtime.” He snorted and rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “Do this, do that, clean up some mess, collect an alien’s soulmate, kill that politician, clean up more mess. Not a day’s rest I tell ya.” 

You nodded politely, staring down at your cup as you fully processed his words. Aliens, soulmates… killing politicians? You didn’t know which was the most out there. “I-’m sorry I’m not sure I follow…” 

He only looked more delighted at your confusion and the way your body had stiffened. “Well, you see, sweetheart, there’s this guy, Loki, who showed up outta nowhere and, see, he talks a big game about taking over the Earth and we figured, seeing as you’re his soulmate, that he might rethink those big ideas if we offer you up instead.” Brock shrugged as if this was just casual conversation and didn’t have you frozen in your seat. “’Course, if that doesn’t work, maybe threatening to harm ya will change his tune. But what do I know about aliens? I’m just part of the STRIKE team.” 

Brock smiled, as though he hadn’t just threatened you or spouted what sounded like absolute bullshit. A beat passed as you stared into the cup in your hands, eyes unseeing. “So why don’t we-” 

He growled angrily as you threw the coffee and the cup containing it at him and jolted to your feet, running for the door, pulling it open-

Your short-lived escape attempt ended when another similarly dressed and built man stepped into view. His hands clamped down on your arms and the panic really set in as you protested and tried to escape. “Let me go!” You kicked and thrashed, hoping the noise might cause your boss to call the cops, but that small slice of hope was soon ripped from you. He appeared from his office, face like thunder. 

“You said this would be quick, hurry up before someone hears this racket.” 

Brock huffed from behind you, fingers sliding into your hair and tugging hard to drag your head back. “We coulda done this the nice way, bitch, but that’s off the table.” He pressed a cloth to your mouth, harder than necessary.

The thought of not breathing hadn’t even crossed your mind before the fumes entered your body and you soon slumped into unconsciousness.

You woke already knowing you weren’t at home. Everything felt off and you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet as you laid on what felt like a bed. You took a shallow breath, trying to remember, but everything before falling asleep stayed fuzzy at the edges. 

You had been to work and… right, your boss had made you stay late and there had been coffee and…

Your eyes snapped open but so far it seemed like you were alone. The edge of the bed wasn’t far from the wall and you hesitated before rolling over. Good. No-one there either and this side of the wall had windows.

You shuffled over to them, eyebrows furrowing at their size. Small and curved at the edges. you slid the blind up to be met with the sight of clouds and uninterrupted sky. 

You scrambled to the edge of the bed and the one door that led in and out of the room. “Hey! Hey!” you yelled, banging on the door, fear skittering through you. How long ago had last night been? What time was it now? Where were you now?

“Quit ya banging!” A stern thump that made the door rattle had you stumbling back and falling down to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re nearly there, no need to get your panties in a twist, bitch.” It sounded like the man you’d met in the office… Brock if you remembered correctly.

He’d certainly changed his tune, but you had thrown coffee at him. Bastard deserved it. 

“Where are we going?!” You had no idea if he would answer, if anyone would. Did it even really matter?

You were to be offered up as some consolation prize to an alien invader in the hopes he might go away. 

You weren’t convinced of the plan; who would change their plans for the mere idea and appearance of their soulmate. You probably wouldn’t if you were in Loki’s position. 

“New York,” came the answer before you heard footsteps leave the door. 

You sank to the bed and flopped back on it, unsure what to do with yourself or for the rest of the flight.

You sat in what had to be some kind of interrogation room, a bit rich considering these guys had kidnapped you. A window made up much of the wall in front of you; the blank expanse of glass left you with nothing to look at but the reflection of your soulmate. It hadn’t changed for several years, but you’d noticed recently his hair had grown longer and it didn’t seem as well kept as before.

The sharp lines of his face had always left you flustered, but now they left you worried at the gaunt paleness that clung to him. What had happened? You couldn’t possibly know, you didn’t even know his name. Well, you hadn’t.

Loki. An alien. An invader. 

You continued to sit silently in the chair, not knowing that an agent and your soulmate’s brother were busy deciding your fate.

“Father will not be pleased. Midgardians are not welcome to our realm and Loki is likely to remain in prison the remainder of her short life.” Thor spoke calmly but firmly. “Besides which, you tell me she is dangerous? A criminal? Why should Asgard take a criminal of Midgard to the golden realm? I do not think our prison is the best place to introduce them.” Thor couldn’t be certain, but he doubted the two would get along from what SHIELD had told him. 

His brother would likely perceive another criminal as a threat or he would keep his guard up. Loki was not one for letting people in so easily. Especially not now. Whether she deserved kindness or not, he doubted Loki would afford her any.

“What if your brother wants to bring her?” 

Thor’s eyes narrowed, giving the agent a sidelong glance. Hardly normal to accept a prisoner’s request… but he did love his brother fiercely - despite his recent tricks. “If,” Thor stressed, “Loki wants to bring her… I may agree,” Thor conceded. But he doubted such a thing would happen. “I will speak with him.” 

Neither you or Thor knew the thin thread by which your fate hung.

The car rumbled through central park, you seated in the back wearing handcuffs and some gag like thing over your mouth that stopped you speaking. You still wore the bright orange scrubs and white shirt as though they’d plucked you from a prison somewhere.

You were free of Rumlow at least, you didn’t even know if the agent driving knew that you hadn’t been picked up from a penitentiary. This new one aligned more with what you imagined an ‘agent’ to be. Black suit, white shirt, sunglasses. Very Men In Black, which, ironic, since you were about to meet two aliens. 

The car came to a stop and you looked out at the people milling around. You only recognised two for sure - one of them being your soulmate. Tony Stark confused you, for a moment, before you recalled his shift into heroism the last few years. 

An equally tall, blond man held your soulmate's arm just above his elbow, so you had to assume this was the brother you’d heard murmurs about. 

Your car door opened and a hand grabbed similarly below your elbow to help you out. Curious eyes turned on you and all you could do was silently, desperately, plead for someone to step in. Someone to take the gag off. You just needed one of them to be curious. 

“Er… I don’t remember any plus ones going out to this little party.” Tony Stark gave the agent at your side a look over the top of his sunglasses, his gaze briefly sliding to you. 

“She’s Loki’s soulmate,” the agent replied, no judgement but not much other emotion in his voice. He turned and marched you towards the pair of aliens. 

“Now, hang on a minute.” A different voice objecting this time and you craned your head behind you to see a blond dressed in a check shirt and a brown jacket. You thought you might have seen his face somewhere before, but you weren’t exactly firing on all cylinders and you couldn’t place him. “She might be a criminal of some kind, but you’re going to send her to another planet?” 

“I’m sorry, Captain, but it seems she may be more dangerous than a Midgardian prison could handle,” Thor answered. “My brother told me he has made many a visit to her on Earth.” Fucking news to you! Your eyes flicked to Loki, brows furrowed, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “I do not think he could have taught her many of the tricks he uses, but SHIELD assures me that they have indeed met before.” 

Now you understood the reason for the gag. Can’t contradict made up bullshit if you can’t speak. You were about to turn a furious gaze on the agent that brought you out of the car when the soft clinking of a chain drew your attention.

Loki curled a chained arm around your waist, grip firm, and tugged your back flush against him. The action forestalled anything you had been about to do or say and you attempted to catch his eye. He ducked his head and you felt the cool press of his own gag to the top of your head. 

The gesture had you stilling in surprise and seemed to only cement the story that Thor had been spun.

You felt eyes on the two of you, studying intently, before Loki’s little stunt seemed to be accepted as proof and preparations began again. You assumed for travel to this Asgard, but how exactly? There weren’t any space ships nearby and you were fairly certain the car you’d arrived in wasn’t about to escape Earth’s atmosphere.

Something with Loki here?

Thor reappeared in your line of sight holding one of two handles of some canister. A blue cube glowed inside, but it didn’t make any more sense than it had a few minutes ago. He caught your eye, his look intense and serious. “Make sure you do not let go or you will be lost to space as Loki was before he came here.” 

You felt like meaning lay beneath the words, something you were supposed to glean from them, but still struggling to process what had happened the last few days you simply nodded and took hold of the other handle. Loki’s hand settled beside yours, overlapping slightly. Unsure if this stemmed from kindness, or an attempt to be sure you didn’t let go. or something else to drag you further into the fiction and lies that had been created around you... Well, you had no way to protest, anyway.

You hoped nobody would spend too long looking for you. Maybe the local police had already told everyone you were dead, covering up the act that you still couldn’t quite understand. 

You wondered if you would ever see Earth again after this.

Your hand unknowingly reached for Loki’s at your waist, gripping tightly in fear of what was to come and in sorrow that you didn’t know what mess you were leaving behind. 

Silence as Thor turned the handle, anticlimactic, but you felt it as your stomach dropped similarly to when an elevator descends too quickly and you were pulled upwards. The blur of colours was almost too much for your eyes to bear as your vision blurred, but soon enough your feet settled on solid ground once more. 

You desperately blinked back the blurring at the edges of your vision to take in the bright gold that lined the room you had landed in. Or maybe an observatory of some kind.

“Welcome home,” a deep but firm voice greeted, your eyes drawn to a man in gold armour whose eyes glowed just as brightly as the metal. He sheathed the sword into the metal stand in front of him and approached the three of you.

You thought you could see something sad in his gaze as he touched the metal on your face, drawing it easily away from you and returning your ability to speak. “I am sorry you were dragged into this mess, miss.” 

“How did you…?” 

“My name is Heimdall and my duty is to watch over the Nine Realms. While I cannot see all at once, and some have managed to evade my sight in the past,” At this he gave Loki a look before returning his gaze to you - eyes softening once more, “I have kept an eye on your journey these past few days.” 

“Heimdall, of what do you speak?” Thor asked in utter confusion. 

But you found the words and breath to speak first. “They lied to you, I’m not an inmate! I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket!” you protested, courage mounting with every word you got out. “I was just doing my job like always and a couple of thugs came to the office and kidnapped me.” A squeeze at your waist reminded you of Loki’s presence and you pulled out of his grip, turning your annoyance on him. “And we have never met! I’ve only ever seen his reflection.” 

“Loki-” Thor growled at his brother, but received only a simple shrug and a look that lacked all remorse in reply. “Why did you-?”

Warm hands took your wrists and distracted you, your gaze drawn by watching Heimdall break the cuffs on your wrists as easily as if they were made of paper. “My apologies, miss. I had no way of letting anyone on Earth know of the misconception.” He didn’t smile, per se, but he seemed genuine and his greeting kind. 

He took a step back and you breathed with relief to finally be free of all your chains. “At least someone knows what’s going on.” Though Loki had to have known too, so why had he lied to Thor and SHIELD? “How exactly am I supposed to get home?” you asked, looking between the two brothers as if scolding children. 

“Heimdall is to use the Tesseract to restore the Bifrost and once it’s fixed, he will be able to send you home. If I can, I will return with you and explain the situation to the Avengers - they’ll be sure to help,” Thor rushed to assure you.

To be fair, they had tried, but Thor had been so convinced by SHIELD… Well, he just seemed to have gotten all mixed up in all of this so you nodded. “So, I’ll just have to wait until the bridge is fixed?” 

Thor smiled brightly this time, like the sun bursting through on a cloudy day. “Yes, just until it is fixed. I’m sure Mother will be happy to provide hospitality.” 

“I see my son is already volunteering me.” Her voice sounded light and happy despite the situation, drifting over from some as yet unseen doorway off to the side. 

“Your Majesty.” Heimdall bowed to her and you quickly followed suit - you didn’t want to end up in the dungeons for however long it would take to fix the Bifrost. 

You straightened up to find her gentle smile turned your way, her beauty and motherly face stealing your breath. “I’m glad to finally meet you, though you are such a familiar sight that I feel as though I know you already.” Her arm settled softly around your shoulders and she started to steer you along the beautiful bridge you stood on. 

Loki huffed behind you and you wondered if he might be embarrassed? No, probably not.

“I’m sorry you were brought here under such circumstances, but welcome to Asgard.” Weird space travel and spy stories coming to life aside, maybe spending some time in the golden city laid out before you wouldn’t be so bad. 

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