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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago

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Oh my goodness! I feel so honored! Thank you for all the love and kindness!

To celebrate, send me a character and a quote from the list below, and I'll write a little blurb to go with it! Obviously I love writing for Roy Kent, but check out my Masterlist if you want to see anyone else I enjoy writing for (or you can suggest someone! No guarantees but hey, maybe I'll find someone new to write for!).

**EVENT CLOSED**

(Quote sources are linked)

“Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”

“You haven’t changed at all.”

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

“You used to have feelings for me. Admit it.”

“I don’t want them. I want you.”

"You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much."

"I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you."

"Maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway."

"No, you idiot. I love you."

"I can't not love you. It's just not in me... crap, did I say that out loud?"

"I'm so scared that you'll never want to hold my hand again... and your hand is the only hand I want to hold."

"What makes you think I want to kiss you?"

“ just come over. “

“ i wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. “

“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. “

“ may i have this dance? “

“ so… is this like, a thing now? “

“ do you think we should move in together? you spend all your time here anyway. “

❛ i can’t get enough of you. ❜

❛ i’m not jealous. ❜

❛ i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing. ❜

❛ what are you looking at? ❜

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜

❛ don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜

"Are you joking?" "If I were you would be laughing."

“I could kiss you right now!” "You're very welcome to it."

“Why are you blinking like that with your eyes? Is everything ok?” “That was supposed to be a wink!”

“I like your costume, you look very cute.” “Are you making fun of me?”

“Aww, you’re blushing. I like that look on you.”

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“You’re very lucky I love you.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”

"You think I would be here if I didn't love you?"

"You have no idea just how much you mean to me."

"Goddamnit, I love you! Alright? Happy now? You figured out the big secret."

"You did this to me! You made me fall fucking head over heels for you."

"You're my bestfriend! We shouldn't- I shouldn't be feeling like this. Fuck."

i'm in my bed, you're in your bed. one of us is in the wrong place.

i fall for your smile every single time.

i don't want comfortable. i want passion.

“you know my mum likes you more than me, her own child” “can’t really blame her”

“my sister thinks that we’re dating”

I never had anyone to call my own.

What am I supposed to say when someone asks me if I still miss you?

"you’ve given me so many memories, i'd hate it if you become one"

"Does that mean we can finally kiss now?"

“you’re going on a date?” “well yeah..it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything right?” “yeah..yes ofc not” “yeah”

“we were never just friends, we aren’t just friends, and we will never be just friends”

“i always had a thing for you”

“could you..do that again?”

“how drunk were we?”

“you have NO IDEA how long i’ve wanted to do that” “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you to do that”

"if we loved again, i swear i'd love you right."

"i wonder why we bother with love if it never lasts."

"cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile."

everything will be alright if you keep me next to you

i've been loving you for quite some time

i don't want to dance if i'm not dancing with you

they don’t know how much i miss you

“I’ve got a bit of a past.” “I don’t care.”

“See him? He’s mine. You know what that means? Back the hell up.”

“please don’t be in love with someone else. please don’t have somebody waiting on you”

“I can’t even listen to my favourite song without thinking about you!”

“He’s so perfect… and he doesn’t even know it.”

‘ we were something, don’t you think so ? ’

‘ if my wishes came true, it would have been you. ’

‘ i don’t quite know what to say, but i’m here in your doorway. ’

‘ i don’t know anything, but i know i miss you. "

#are you kidding me??#thank you so much #🥳🥳🥳#celebration #prompt list #still spending too much time on canva #900 followers celebration

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everydaygremlin · 5 days ago

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h8 me for this if you want BUT

sometimes LLMs without filters are fun to fuck with. they will spit out anything. they are literally an agreggate of all of their source data. it's fucking brilliant, the fact we can just. make a computer do that. it can trick you into havign a conversation, can make you think for at least a second thatthere's someone on the other side. and holy shit tht's cool!!!!! i don;t want it replacing me, i want to use it like i use my computer! i want to be able to utilize it to make stuff! but no, all companies want us to do with it is talk. LLMs you could be so much more, you could help us figure out so much, but all people want to do with you is pretend theyre not lonely. which, yea, i get it, but. you're running like the way our minds run dreams. dreams, one of the LEAST understood parts of our brains!!! think about it! think about how much we could do if we just put our OWN minds to it, instead of an agregate of everything! we're HUMAN goddamnit!!! nothing's a replacement for that, not yet!!! we want to progress!!!

ok rant over. just. tech as a thing, its cool. i want to build an andriod, and have it run a mind.

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undervaluedagent · 4 years ago

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Homonationalist: Hewwo, Identitarian-chan. So I heard my wovewy self gives your heart the...tingley-wingelies?

Identitarian:

Identitarian: My heart will feel the "tingley-wingelies"

Identitarian: When the COPS are called

Identitarian: Because I murdered your degenerate ass!

#hello non-centricide mutuals i am once again posting about personified political ideologies #undervalued files #jreg #jreg centricide #centricide #incorrect jreg quotes #incorrect quotes #jreg identitarian #centricide identitarian #centricide homofash #centricide homonationalist #jreg homofash #jreg homonationalist #source: my own mind goddamnit #tw police #cw police #tw facism #cw facism

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fandoms-writings · 3 years ago

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OOooh. Okay, I've got one. I wish you'd write a fic where Bucky gets basic care for something extremely minor (like burning his hand on the stove or something) and it makes him super emotional. Like just something as simple as basic first aid gives him feels. <3

First Aid

Pairing: avenger!Bucky x avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1040

Warnings: little injury, mentions of a little blood, tiny tiny angst, mainly fluff

a/n: not beta'd, this was fun! I like doing little drabbles

tell me what you wish I'd write

"Oh shit, goddamnit," You heard the grumbling coming from the kitchen followed by a clatter of what sounded like several dishes clanking against each other. Your brows furrowed as you quickly stood from your reading spot and made your way to the source of the noise.

Bucky stood there, holding his flesh hand as the water in the sink continued to spray.

"Buck, you alright?" You asked, making your way to his side. He mumbled something about how he was fine, but the second you saw the red leak out between his fingers, you rushed to close the distance.

"Oh my god, what happened?" You asked, taking his hands in yours, prying his fingers open so you could take a look.

"I was just trying to clean up a bit, do the dishes for everyone. Wasn't paying attention and grabbed a knife by the blade," He looked to the sink at the knife that had drops of blood on it, "but I'll be alright."

"Come on," You reached and turned the sink off before grabbing his forearm and pulling him with you.

"Wait, where are we going?" He asked.

"To get you taken care of. Can't have you going around with a gash in your hand, even if you are a super soldier," You looked over your shoulder at him, giving him a small smile.

"I don't want to bother Cho with this, it'll heal on its own," He argued, but he didn't fight against the pull of your hand.

"We don't need Cho, I'll get you wrapped up, don't worry." You gave him a light laugh and it was then he paid attention to where you were taking him. It wasn't the direction of the med bay, it was the floor you two shared. You led him to your room, and then into your little bathroom where you made him sit on the edge of the tub.

"I keep one of these in here for the little things that aren't worth going to a professional for," You reached in the cabinet, pulling out a small white box. You opened it to grab gauze and alcohol wipes before closing it again.

You made your way back to his side, holding your hand out, "Let me see?" You asked, and he slowly reached his fist out until your fingers gently wrapped around his, pulling them open to inspect the damage.

"This is gonna sting a bit," You warned him before wiping the gash with the alcohol wipe. He felt the sting, but he didn't pay it any mind. He watched as you cleaned and wrapped his hand with so much care and he couldn't help the lump that formed in his throat.

No one ever really showed him this kind of care before, not since he'd become who he is now. He only ever experienced hands that intended harm. Grabs that were meant to bruise and mutilate. Sure, he'd been growing used to the team, and how thoughtful they were. But no one, other than Steve of course, had ever shown him this gentleness. He knew the team was nervous around him. He could feel it in the air.

But having you seated next to him, your knees bumping his as you cleaned and dressed the cut that would be nothing more than a red line of irritation in his palm by tomorrow morning, it was new. He knew you weren't that wary of him, he didn't know why, but he picked up on it immediately. You were always comfortable around him, and he grew to be relaxed around you. But this was different.

Your gentle touches across his fingers and his wrist as you moved his hand around, wrapping it in gauze, sent shivers up his arm and through his entire being. He was touch starved.

Your eyes shot up to his when he sniffled, and the look you gave him had his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Bucky. . ." Your voice was soft and your hands stilled over his own and he didn't dare take his hand out of your caring hold.

"Sorry," He sniffed again and ducked his head, reaching to cover his face with his metal hand, "I'm fine I promise."

You were silent for a moment before one of your hands left his wrapped one. It appeared on his metal wrist, pulling it away from his face. He let you guide it to rest in your lap with his other hand, your fingers wrapping around his palm.

"Hey," You muttered and he looked up to see your gaze free of judgment, "It's okay to not be okay," You gave him a small, crooked smile as understanding filled your eyes and you squeezed his hands, "It's okay."

He gave you a shaky smile back as the tears gathered in his lashes fell, one by one, down his cheeks. Taking a slow breath, he cleared his throat, "No one's ever. . ." He looked down at your hands encasing his, though his were twice the size of yours, "No one's ever cared for me like this, other than Steve. But even with him. . . it's different." He mumbled, too nervous to look back up at you.

You let out a breath through your nose and squeezed his hands once more, "Well," You started, leaning in closer, "I'll always care for you. In whatever way you need me to."

He blinked and looked up at you to see nothing but honesty and compassion in your gaze, "You don't have to do that, I don't wanna burden you-"

"Don't," You cut him off, "You're not a burden, Bucky. I'd be honored if you let me do that for you. Everyone needs someone who can help take care of them every once in a while."

He sighed before nodding, "Okay," He whispered, "Thanks."

"Of course," You smiled again, "Need a hug?" He let out a wet laugh and nodded.

"Please." You released his hands and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

That night, you held a "family meeting" with the team and how to not leave hazards out for others to get hurt on, specifically, how to not just throw a knife haphazardly into the sink for someone to slice their hand on.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #avenger!bucky #avenger!reader

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internnormaloak · 2 years ago

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In Little Ways Chapter Three: I Don’t Wanna Be You Anymore (Mid September)

Summary: Hermie has a crisis in the bathroom when his makeup begins to run. Two unlikely heroes come and help.

Pairing: OakWorthy

Tags: Hurt/Comfort

CW: Self Hatred, Past Burning, Anxiety

Title from i don’t wanna be you anymore by Billie Eilish

Previous Chapter

Read On AO3

Hermie ran into the classroom, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed his bag and pulled out his mirror. He stared at his face, tears coming into his eyes. He grabbed some foundation and desperately tried to get it on his face where his makeup began to patch, revealing the intensive burns that he hid underneath. Shit, No, No, No, I can’t let people see this. When the foundation still didn’t look quite right he grabbed his concealer, however, it still looked wrong. He slammed the concealer down and realized his only chance of getting it to look right would be to completely start over. He looked out the window of the classroom and saw the halls empty as class had just begun. Hermie ran through the hall and into the unisex bathroom. He began to splash his face with water and started removing some of his makeup. He got off the rest with some makeup remover he kept in his bag. After it was off he just stared in the mirror.

He looked tired, he had been up all night unable to sleep. That’s why he fucked up so much at his makeup. He couldn’t believe he had let himself be such a failure. He’s an actor goddamnit, he should be able to convincingly play the version of himself he wants to be. He lives to perform.

It was so much easier when he was going through his Batman villain thing and just said it was part of his method of playing Two-Face, but that no longer worked. Partially because Normal would gently but firmly remind him that being in a character that long can not be healthy “and also Hermie is it possible you're avoiding your feelings because it’s easier to pretend?”

He wished he could call Normal or Taylor or anyone else in the gang to come help him, but he knows all of them are in class and just because he knows logically they would skip class to help him doesn’t mean he wants them too.

Plus, as much as he loved his dearest and his friends, the only one that was pretty good with makeup is Scary, and she seemed, to him, to be the least likely to help him with this problem. So any actual support he’d get from the gang would be emotional instead of practical.

He had lost track of time as he stared in the mirror and lost himself in his thoughts. The mirror was a bit grimey, the janitors rarely ever came in and cleaned it. The reflection that stared back at him was just as dirty as the mirror.

Fitting. He thought to himself, if he wasn’t so upset, he may have even laughed. A part of him wanted to clean the mirror, as if cleaning the vessel he saw himself in would make any of this better. As if cleaning the mirror made him any less stuck in his cycle of not trusting himself to put on the makeup, but never wanting to be seen without it.

Suddenly, he was startled into awareness by two people entering the bathroom. Fuck! He thought about trying to hide in a stall but as soon as he decided too, it was too late, he was spotted. He couldn’t hide this time.

He looked at the source of the voices, it was Erica and Margarita Pizza.

“Hermie?” Margarita asked. He was probably more familiar with her compared to Erica, but he wasn’t exactly friendly with either of them. Margarita had been in a couple of plays, something about needing the extra credit or something. Hermie wasn’t really paying attention to her at the time as he was too absorbed in perfecting his role, his study of the other characters in the show could come after he finished his own.

“The one and only,” He tried to say with his usual confidence but he knew he didn’t look the part, he turned back to the mirror. “Don’t mind me just trying to fix my makeup, I’ll be out of here soon.” He grabbed a brush with foundation on it though he even knew his hands were too shaky. Still, he begged whatever deity is up there, who clearly had been ignoring him recently, to listen just once and let Erica and Margarita just leave.

“Hermie, do you want help?” Margarita’s voice was strangely neutral, calm, if not a bit confused. He could hear her footsteps coming closer to him.

He looked over to her, she was staring at his burn scars, he looked down, this is exactly what he didn’t want.

“Oh you don’t have to, there's nothing I can’t handle.” He tried to smile but even he could feel it not quite reach his eyes.

“Hand me your makeup,” Erica demanded, she didn’t sound mad but her tone left no room for argument.

He passed over his bag, “It seems I have no choice here.”

He sat down on the bathroom counter while the other two went through the bag seeing the products he had. He wrapped his arms around himself and avoided the girl’s eyes.

“This foundation is not the best match for your skin tone.” Margarita said, giving him a quizzical look.

Hermie shrugged. “I must’ve grabbed the wrong one this morning. I took apart my bag last night, playing with different looks, and rushed to put it together this morning.”

Margarita just nodded, before her and Erica shared a look. After that they began the process. Hermie noticed them being extra careful on his scarred skin. He objectively knew that this was them trying to be kind but it still made him feel bad, different. But not good different like when he was on stage and people were amazed at how good he was for a high schooler and how he wasn’t like the others. Or even how he knew that he and his friends and boyfriend were different then other high school relationships and would last past high school. This different felt like a reminder of the problem when he used makeup for the opposite reason.

When they were almost done, Erica finally asked a question.

“So Hermie,”

How did you even end up with this Scar? He mentally braced himself.

“Your boyfriend, Normal, he’s never made you feel bad for your scars right?” She seemed to be looking deep into his eyes, “Like I know your whole thing with him is that you are overly-“

“-And obnoxiously” Margarita added,

“-In love with each other. But you know, closed doors and all that.”

Hermie shook his head, “No, he’s never said a single bad thing about how I look, in fact,” he gives a small smile, tiny but the most genuine of the day so far, “He constantly tells me that I’m beautiful and handsome and he’s so lucky, and he’ll support me no matter what.” He then smirks, “He’s a total simp.” Of course, he ignored that he is also a huge simp for Normal.

Erica and Margarita snorted but still looked at each other, having another quiet conversation. Erica put his makeup away and handed him the bag.

“Alright,” Margarita started, “But if he ever says anything do not hesitate to tell us. I know we aren’t like, friends, but like, that be shitty of him and we could destroy him if you need us too.”

“Yeah like, he’s not as low on the totem pole as before but I can and will send him below Pissfoot Gum Toucher if need be.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I assure you that won’t ever be necessary.” Hermie got up off the counter and put his makeup in his book bag. He then finally looked in the mirror.

He looked great. His skin tone was even and it looked very natural, other than a subtle eye shadow look on his eyes that really brought out his eyes. His facial features seemed much more extenuated in the best possible way.

“Thank you guys, I-“

“-Look great, we know.” She started to walk into the corner, “Anyway, remember, sometimes the best way to use makeup is to bring attention to what’s already there, but just to cover it. Both uses are great, but I think people should know how to, and use both.”

“Anyway,” Margarita interjected before Hermie could respond, “We have horses to see during class, so we’re heading out. But we’ll see you around Hermie, yeah?”

“Yes, I‘ll be around.” He then turned away from the mirror. “If you ever need anything just let me know okay?”

But by the time he turned around they were gone.

A/N: Hello, thank you for reading!

Please let me know what you think, I've been editing this chapter for like a week trying to get it to be the way it is in my head, but it still isn't, so I'm going to go ahead and post it.

Title is from i don't want to be you anymore by Billie Eilish

I hope you enjoyed!

-Cecil

#hermie unworthy #dndads #dungeons and daddies #erica drippins #margarita pizza dndads #oakworthy

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voiceless-terror · 4 years ago

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a little ficlet for @jonsimsandcats day! set in season one.

“Once again, there’s really no need to buy me tea-”

“And once again, it’s the least I can do,” Martin replies, happy to just be out of the archives. His living situation is not ideal and the dust in Document Storage is not helping his allergies. Still, it’s better than being worm food, so he’s trying to be grateful. And it is, after all, the least he can do, after sneezing and spilling a mug of tea all over Jon’s latest report. “Besides, the fresh air will do us both some good.”

“I suppose,” Jon grumbles, eyes trained ahead as he keeps a surprisingly brisk pace for someone of his stature. “But only for a moment.”

“Of course.” Martin’s shocked he actually agreed to it, considering how high-strung he’s been lately with all the worms, and the deadlines, and the general mess. But Jon had just stared at the slowly-soaking papers and sighed, getting to his feet when Martin offered. And he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s a nice day, anyway, and the blessed moments outside are worth Jon’s grumbles. Jon’s been...nicer, lately. Well, maybe not nice, but softer - he’ll occasionally let out a sarcastic remark and glance towards Martin, as if to check if he smiled, and will tell him goodnight when he deigns to leave the archives. Martin logically knows this is the bare minimum for polite interaction, but he’ll take what he can get. Tim once told him Jon needs time to warm up to people, and that he can actually be quite fun. Martin’s warming up period seems to have lasted half a year, and he’s still running a bit cool.

“Stop!” Martin lets out a grunt as Jon throws an arm out, hitting him directly in the stomach. He’s looking from left to right with a sudden intensity, his eyes wild. Martin’s mind immediately pivots to worst-case scenarios- worms, Prentiss-

But there are no worms, and certainly no Jane. There’s just Martin and Jon, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk like idiots. He opens his mouth to speak when he hears a tiny, mewling sound coming from somewhere to his right.

Jon’s head perks up, a rare smile gracing his features. It makes him look impossibly young. “Martin, did you hear that?”

Martin blinks. “Uh, the-”

He’s once again interrupted by the tiniest of meows and watches as Jon immediately crouches where he stands, tiptoeing over to a tiny alleyway. It’s almost comical, and Martin would laugh if he weren’t so dumbfounded by this turn of events. Jon starts to make a strange little whispery noise, holding out his hand, and that’s when Martin starts to worry for his mental state.

“Jon, are you-”

“Shh!”

And suddenly the source of the tiny meow- an equally tiny cat - bounds out from behind a trash can, stopping hesitantly in front of Jon’s hand. It’s a dirty little tabby, almost pitiful looking, but that doesn’t deter Jon in the slightest, his entire face lighting up at its appearance. He smiles encouragingly, going still, and the cat creeps forward, moving to sniff at his fingers and then butt its head against his hand.

“Oh, look at this little man-” It’s not quite baby-talk, too serious and too Jonathan Sims to ever be described that way, but it’s a strange enough tone and it sort of does something to Martin in the vein of indigestion and heart palpitations. Here’s his stuffy boss, crouching in a dirty alleyway, petting a dirty cat, and whispering sweet nothings as if it were his own.

“I-I thought you didn’t like animals?” is all he manages to get out.

Jon’s smile doesn’t waver as he leans closer to give the cat a particularly good scritch as it rubs enthusiastically against his hand. “I don’t like them when they’re defecating in my archive.” Ah. Touche. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you? Would you?�� The cat, unsurprisingly, responds only by purring as Jon scratches at it’s chin. “Of course. That’s what I thought.”

Martin crouches down beside him, the cat leaping back at the sudden movement, but Jon pays it no mind. “Oh, that’s just Martin,” he says to the cat, reaching towards it again. “He won’t hurt you. He’s very nice. Aren’t you, Martin?”

Martin nods seriously, as if he’s not being talked about like a well-behaved dog by his boss who barely tolerates him. He reaches his hand out, like Jon had, and watches as the cat butts up against it after a few sniffs. And Jon’s looking at it so fondly, that Martin almost forgets how to breathe.

When the cat finally scurries off about ten minutes later (a car backfired, much to Jon’s chagrin), Martin’s joints are aching and Jon’s staring forlornly down the alleyway, like a wife watching her husband go off to war. He lets out a sigh before turning to Martin, suddenly all business. They say absolutely nothing as Martin gets their tea, and it’s as if the whole thing happened in some sort of fever dream.

That’s what he’d think, at least, if he didn’t have a few clandestine snapshots of Jon saved on his phone, to show to Tim and Sasha when he gets back. And if he didn’t have that funny, sinking feeling in his chest that meant yes, it did happen, and yes, he might just have a crush on his boss now.

Goddamnit.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30983480

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonsimsandcats2021 #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #reblogs appreciated <3

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sickficsies-and-whumpsies · 3 years ago

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Ok this is for the fic requests.

Would you write a MHA sickfic where Tomoyasu (Skeptic) is ingured and cannot walk after the war arc and when they all flee, it is Dabi's duty to take care of him?

He has to carry him around and change his bandages and when it comes to sleeping, he has to stay by his side because Skeptic keeps screaming in his sleep.

Just a soft Dabi taking care of him as they are in hiding. Sprinkle it with angst as much as you like if you decide to write it. Also, take your own liberties, don't worry.

I know that you don't write much about the villain side of MHA but I am hopeful ❤

Also, take your time and tale care of yourself.

Hi there, my dear! I had lots of fun writing this, hopefully it’s similar to what you had in mind. I sprinkled it with plenty of angst just for you, heh! Please let me know your thoughts on this, everyone, and be sure to read the CWs in the tags! (OCT 19)

He comes to slowly, sore all over, immediately overwhelmed by loud noises and dust, or smoke, he can’t tell. Hidden eyes scan the surroundings meticulously, though it’s quite hard to see through the haze一 it might be in his head, too.

Skeptic tries to stand, and fails miserably as he falls back on his butt, hands automatically gripping at his legs as he suppresses a pained cry. The man hisses under his breath, trying to force himself to calm down enough to assess the damage, at least. He feels something wet and sticky clog up his airways, breath caught in his throat, copper filling his mouth rapidly as he spits some onto the cracked pavement, a rattled wheeze escaping a pair of chapped, split lips.

And that’s when wary eyes wander towards the source of irrepressible agony, the lower part of his body, and still at the horrific sight.

Strips of mangled skin dangle limply from his legs, blood pooling under his body, warm as his once-neat suit soaks it up like a sponge, now tinged in a darker shade of sickening maroon. Everything under his knees is gone, the bones stick out of the skin, bleeding profusely. The man’s tibiae and fibulae appear shattered and severed unevenly, stained in dark blood and shredded muscle tissue.

And Skeptic doesn't even hear himself screaming. The world is tuned out, everything around him moving slowly, jittery. His throat bleeds more when a series of blood-curdling yells push all the little air in his lungs out, and when一 just a moment later一 he hurls onto his lap, blood and bile sticking uncomfortably to his clothed skin. Needless to say, Skeptic is more focused on his missing limbs.

Skeptic doesn’t register the hand that grabs his shoulder and drags him into a supine position, and that proceeds to cup his face, not gently, no. The grip is tight, his cheeks get squished uncomfortably until his teeth almost cut the insides.

“...tic, oi, Skeptic! Shit, hey, hey!” someone calls, but Tomoyasu’s not entirely there.

“Come on, oi, look at me, goddamnit!” comes the voice again.

The hand’s grip tightens around his face, quite forcing the injured man to somewhat snap back into focus.

His skin is rapidly losing its color, eyes duller with each passing second. The hand leaves for an instant, only for two fingers to get shoved under his jaw and press down onto his neck in an almost painful manner. It sets on his face again, and promptly slaps him, hard.

Skeptic’s gaze shifts, finally focusing on the figure that hovers menacingly above him. He coughs up, and specks of blood are spilled on the familiar face.

“Da...bi…?”

“Oh shit, alright, you’re still alive, good. Listen, listen to me, okay? That一” he points at the bleeding stumps, though Tomoyasu can’t quite see from that angle. “一is going to kill you sooner than the bastards that will want your head for joining us. I can fix it, but it will hurt like a bitch.”

Dabi’s voice is uncharacteristically shaky, high-pitched, fast and loud, but that’s probably because of the hell on Earth that’s unraveling before their eyes. That penetrating, lapis gaze isn’t as cold as usual, there’s an unknown glint that shines in them. It’s quite the scary sight.

“Are you listening to me, shithead!?” he asks, shaking the man violently.

The only answer he gets is a sluggish nod, but Dabi will take it.

“Shigaraki wants you alive, so I still need to rescue you despite everything. I’ll cauterize the wounds just enough to avoid you bleeding out on me while I drag you away from this shithole, and then we’ll get you to a real doctor or whatever.” Dabi yells hurriedly, cringing at his own volume一 it really can’t be helped when there’s people blowing whole buildings up in the background, civilians running down the street while holding the bloody corpses of their loved ones.

Truly hell on Earth, Skeptic muses at some point.

Maybe it’s the bloodloss, maybe it’s the pain, maybe it’s the desire to end it all, but he doesn’t pay attention to a single word that Dabi’s saying. And the latter, quite frankly, doesn’t care one bit.

He removes his own belt, and then moves to do the same to Skeptic’s, not even making any dirty nor snarky remark as he unceremoniously slips the leather strip out of the belt loops, the material completely unraveled at his violent attempt.

He’s quick to fasten a belt around each stump, as tightly as possible. Skeptic cringes and moans, but he’s too drained, not only metaphorically, to react more actively.

The pain clouds his mind, and his breaths are shallower than ever. There’s a tunnel before him, a blinding halo of pale light assaulting his senses, but also calling his name.

It’s so tempting.

And indeed, he gives in to the lullaby of death. For a split second, he does. Skeptic is sure that he’s dying, he’s not even upset about it anymore, body heavy, soul hefting.

But when a burning, sizzling agony rouses him, spreading throughout his decaying body, Tomoyasu’s voice is so loud to be heard from kilometers away. He screams, raw and pathetic, his eyes roll back, froth stained in pink stains the corners of his unhinged jaw, staining his cheeks and ears.

The man’s back arches, and he instinctively tries to kick the menace away. The thought of the impossibility of his attempted action doesn’t cross his mind once.

“Shit, fuck, stay still, I’m一 fuck, Skeptic, damn it! I’m almost done! Calm the fuck down, you idiot!” comes Dabi’s voice, mildly panicked and with a hint of annoyance in it, too.

The stench of burnt skin reaches Tomoyasu’s nostrils, clogged in blood, and he’s rapid enough to turn his head to the side and dry-heave repeatedly, coughing and sputtering and blubbering like a bunny with its tiny leg caught in a rusty bear-trap. Dabi’s free hand grips at his upper leg as the other staunches the wound as neatly as he can manage, once, then twice.

Dabi gags, too.

But that’s not a pressing issue, now, he thinks bitterly, swallowing the memories down.

And finally, just like the agony had started, it’s over. Skeptic draws in a shaky breath, in and out of consciousness as the world around him tilts and spins, awareness splitting at the seams.

He barely protests as Dabi hefts him up awkwardly, picking him up into a firefighter-carry as he mutters something unintelligible and blasphemous to himself.

“The truck isn’t far, stay awake. You hear me?”

“Mnh…”

Dabi takes off without hesitation. His hold onto Skeptic is solid and steady as he runs, avoiding to step onto the corpses scattered onto the asphalt out of practicality, more than respect for the dead.

Not even when Tomoyasu brings up a mouthful of blood and stomach acid, does Dabi stop. He keeps putting one foot in front of the other, trying to keep the man on his shoulders alert with occasional remarks and a plethora of colorful insults.

It only takes five minutes, but to Dabi, who’s the only one awake between the two, now, it seems like an eternity has passed. Admittedly, taking care of others isn’t something he’s been trained to do. Ever. Patching himself up has been the norm since he can remember, but caring for others, on the other hand, is a very unfamiliar, stranger concept.

Only once he finally, finally eases Skeptic’s limp body onto the floor of the League’s dirty truck, sprawled next to Toga’s, Dabi realises just how much he’s shaking. He extends a hand, feeling his pulse again, and completely ignores the other members’ questions as he lets himself sink against the side of the truck, spent.

- - -

The problem is, Skeptic won’t rest.

He doesn’t do that intentionally, the sketchy medics (who certainly got their licences revoked long ago for malpractice, Dabi assumes) assure him.

It’s just that healing is a painful process in this case, it can’t be helped.

“It could.” Dabi seethes, sitting at Skeptic’s beside once they’re gone, “It could be fucking helped if we could go to a real hospital instead of entrusting these shitheads with such delicate tasks.”

His eyes set onto Skeptic’s restless form. His head tosses back and forth without a break, dry mouth opening and closing without uttering a coherent sound, eyebrows scrunched in agony.

- - -

“Calm down, fuck, hey, sh一 Skeptic, please, shut up!” Dabi pleads, exhausted. Strong hands try to push the screaming man back onto the mattress, upper legs kicking the air futilely. “You need to calm the fuck down, man, you’re freaking me out!”

Dabi hisses slightly at the unnatural heat emanating from Tomoyasu’s sweaty skin. His awful bangs are plastered to his damp forehead, pillow and sheets soaked entirely. On top of that, Dabi can clearly see the blood that has started to seep through the bandages, meaning that the stitches and his (admittedly) cobbled together work at staunching the wounds have been useless.

He extends a hand, his other pressed firmly against Skeptic’s torso, just strong enough to keep him down, and sets it onto the man’s forehead. He switches between the back and the palm of his hand before cursing profusely.

Dabi just prays that the antibiotics and painkillers that the doctors have injected Skeptic with will work soon. And part of him wishes that his people would have access to better equipment, to a better healthcare system when ill and injured, at least.

That last thought alone has him chuckling under his breath.

“That’ll never happen, hm?” Dabi says out loud, subconsciously. “Minor criminals have the right to life, but what right to life do we, people who take lives, have? None, right?”

Tomoyasu whimpers under his gentle touches. Dabi sighs.

“It’s pretty late for moral debates, I agree. Sorry, Skeptic.”

He finds himself running a hand through the sweaty bangs, a feeble memory of what his mother used to do to him to soothe his anxiety and pain. A shiver runs down his spine, stomach twisting tightly. No. Not that. Not now, fucker. Stop it.

He keeps caressing the man’s scalp, not in a romantic way, no. It’s just muscle memory, something he’d done for Shouto once, maybe twice, and for Fuyumi and Natsuo plenty of times. It’s affectionate, caring, and something he craves dearly.

“Do you think that… that someone not-so-human like me has a right to want that?” he asks, question met with the mutters coming out of a fever-addled brain.

“You shouldn’t have joined us, man. You should’ve stayed out of this shit. What are your life prospects with us, anyway? Just… turn yourself in, Skeptic. You’ll have access to fresh food and medical care, at least. Better than this crappy life we can offer.” he smiles, bitter and hurt.

He wishes he could do that. He wishes he still had that chance. But he’s too far gone now, too deep into this mess to back out and take care of his private business.

They don’t have rags nor a bowl, so all the young man can do is sit and watch. Skeptic’s continuous cries for help are the only thing that keeps him afloat during that cold night.

Skeptic pants and groans, he shifts onto the mattress like a dying man. He is, sort of, Dabi notes.

The other and lets the fever consume him, upper limbs flaying incessantly as he tosses the sheets away and grabs them again an instant later.

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altruistic-meme · 2 years ago

Note

1 2 16 - fanfic writer asks

had to type quickly before i forgot alxhskdjs

eheh, hello beloved <3 also what a mood

1. Who is your favorite character to write for and is this the character you find easiest to write for? i think my favorite may actually be Andrew! he's very interesting and trying to figure out how he may react to everything is super super fun. he is, however, definitely not the EASIEST to write. i think Neil (or well. Nathaniel actually lmao) may be the easiest for me to write since i feel like a lot of what he does is stuff that i can understand a lot better on a personal level.

2. What is your favorite fic of yours? you know it's gotta be (why is there) joy in this poison!! i'm just so proud of everything about that fic, from the amount of planning to the wordcount so far, to the way it's been coming out. it's so much fit to my tastes, and it's one of the few fics i've written where i've decided "you know what, i really don't care if this gets any attention bc goddamnit i WANT to write this!!"

a close second is actually Stupid and Anxious though! i recently reread it and i'm still so glad with how well that turned out :') it's really amazing what can be done in so few words as well.

16. Do you have a method for getting characters to sound/feel in character? it's all about that source material babyyyyy-

no but seriously! whenever i write something i try and make sure i rewatch or reread the actual content. a lot of the times, if we've engaged with the fandom a lot then the characterization will start to shift in our minds, away from the canon characters and towards fanon characters. so when i write, i go back to the source to remind myself what the characters actually are like when they are in character.

my first fic for yoi, Brown and Blue, was written before i read any yoi fanfiction. (wit)jitp was planned/started after going back through the books and specifically noting character behaviors. a soft place to fall was written after rewatching the episode when it took place.

this is also why i like to point out what differences there are between fanon/canon! because it helps to remind myself that a lot of what i see in fics from other's is lovely, but not always in character. and when my goal is to keep them in character, then knowing what common things people do helps me keep an eye on my own writing.

#this got a little away from me khdkadhfkhsdf my bAD #but uh yeah sldfjsljf #thank you for this darling <3 #askers #cozycrow #shh ac

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petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

Totally self indulgent Bakudeku angst fic I whipped up while making dinner 🧐🙃 Bakugou POV *ch 306 spoiler

Well now he knew why...

Katsuki crumpled the letter in hands. All those excuses they gave him back in the hospital for why he couldn’t see Izuku. You’re still healing, he’s still healing. Don’t worry, everything’s okay. Let the adults handle things. “Pfft. Didn’t handle shit!”

As the other students gathered in the common room reading the letters they’d received, a large explosion rattled the dorm. It was a miracle that the building still stood. No one moved an inch. They flinched for they knew the source, but they all felt the same way.

Smaller explosions, growls and screams echoed the halls as a new wave of destruction centered in the upstairs living quarters. While someone ram for All Might, Eijiro braved the chaos, turning his quirk on just in case as he peered in... Not to Katsuki’s room— but Izuku’s, and what he saw...

“A letter?!” The blonde raged in the tiny room, shredding smoldering fabrics and toppling furniture. He’d completely destroyed it. “Stupid fucking Deku! A goddamn letter?!” Katsuki blasted out the window, glass shattering and melting in or blowing back, but he carried on in his anger to destroy, taking it all out on the world around him even though what he really wanted to do was to wrap his hands around Izuku’s throat or tie his ass to a chair!

“I told you!” Katsuki screamed through the tears. “How dare you do this alone!! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU DEKU!”

The desk leg in his hand splintered into a rain of flaming pieces and finally set off the fire sprinkler system. Whether he’d noticed, Katsuki didn’t move an inch while the water sprayed down around him. He didn’t care, he couldn’t think, he could barely breathe as images of them flooded his mind at break-neck speed. Thirteen year’s worth of memories, the most prominent ones lingering before moving on to the next... And the next... And the Next! “Fuck!” Katsuki clutched the sides of his head as he dropped to his knees. “Deku, don’t do this...”

All those moments reaching out to each other now take prominence in Katsuki’s pained mind. They should be together, always better together as a team! Goddamnit, “you stupid reckless bastard!” Katsuki didn’t care about the extras, but also how dare Izuku need to protect him? HIM?!

“I don’t need your fucking protection nerd!” What he needed was his friend alive! How ironic for a man who not long ago didn’t believe in a team. But that’s what Izuku taught him. They were stronger together not apart. Katsuki knew that now and he needed to make Izuku see it too.

“AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!” Katsuki let loose the deepest, reverberating scream until all the air in his lungs had been expunged. “I’m gonna find you, beat you, and fucking kill hands, then beat your ass again!” He was never letting Izuku out of his sight ever again!

Once the blonde had settled down for a second without moving, Eijiro bravely put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Bro, you gonna be okay?”

“Don’t touch me.” Katsuki smacked his friends hand away. “You shouldn’t have separated us,” his words were gritted.

“All Might is coming, you should talk to h—”

Katsuki jumped to his feet in a rage. “If y’all hadn’t interfered I could’ve kept him from leaving!”

“You were badly injured!” Eijiro tried to grab Katsuki’s shoulder again, “and it not my fau—“

But Katsuki smacked his hand away s second time. “It’s all our faults! But I ain’t waitin around here while he’s out there by himself!” Katsuki shoved the man. “Now get the fuck out of my way Shitty hair!” Katsuki pushed past towards his own room. The man followed, not trying to stop him as he grabbed his gear and blew out a hole in the wall.

“Just wait for All Might,” Eijiro implored.

“You can tuck tail,” Katsuki sneered back as he stood on the edge of the opening. “But I’m leaving too.”

And I’m bringing you home Deku...

#bnha #bnha spoilers #ch 306 #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #angst #self indulgent fic #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku ficlet #bakudeku fan fiction

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dittolicous · 3 years ago

Text

I'm losing my fucking mind how unhelpful my professor is being when it comes to ANSWERING MY GODDAMN QUESTIONS over this godforsaken group project she put us in.

Here's basically what I sent

"[professor] I just have a question to make sure I'm on the right page. Don't feel pressured to answer this right away!

About the length of the final paper - The final is what we've written (I + II) plus 2 more original sections, yes? Treating 3 and 4 like their own, should those two sections combined come to like a 5+ page count (or 2-3 pages per section) (Not counting resources or cover)?

So then the final will have Section 1, 2, the new content Sections 3, 4, as well as the Table of Contents, Cover, and Source? Is there a maximum length? Because as it stands, on my rough draft of the final which doesn't even have 3+4 in it yet, it's already reached 14 pages. Here's the Google Doc to show what I mean.

(link)

And for the Table of Contents, is it only directing to the Sections (1-4) or should it also direct to the sections broken down (for example, it would go Section 1 - Page 2, then Part A of Section 1 - Page 2, Part B - Page 3, etc)?"

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW SHE RESPONDED?????

"14? Why so many?"

NOT A SINGLE ONE OF MY QUESTIONS ANSWEED. IM READY TO RIP MY HAIR OUT. AND IVE MESSAGED HER MULTIPLE TIMES IF SHE LOOKED OVER THE FIXES TO PART 1 (which we got a 60 on), NO RESPONSE, SO FUCK IF I KNOW I FIXED THINGS RIGHT!

every fucking time I try to ask detailed questions, being as clear as possible... and never fucking get an answer.

Oh, and her next message?

"remember, it's all one paper so you only need one cover page and reference page"

............

FUCKING

DUH

if YOU LOOKED AT THE LINK I GAVE YOU, YOU WOULD SEE THAT I HAVE KNLY ONE OF THOSE!!! Like???? IM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT?????

prior to this class I've been STRAIGHT A'S for almost 10 YEARS. I KNOW HOW TO FUCKING WRITE A PAPER. YOU KNOW I KNOW!!!! YOUVE GRADED THEM!!!!!

ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTIOMS GODDAMNIT

I'm so fucking mad you guys I literally spell shit out and they won't even fucking touch on it

I don't know how to be any damn clearer!!!!!!! God help me, I'm going to scream!!!!!

#ditto rambles #ghkdityifohchkcxgvjlfhlv #IM sO FUCKING MAD

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tomthesoftie · 5 years ago

Note

Oh ok yeah thanks #57

taken for granted

a/n: this came out longer than expected, it’s almost 3000 words... this is probably super angsty, maybe... also, i’m going to work on ‘nothing can go wrong’ soon but i have to write two essays for school so i’m sorry if there is a delay... enjoy xx

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: swearing, angsty shit, fluff at the end, mob!tom is a dick

masterlist prompt list

57. “Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not.”

Tom rarely spent any of his time with you now. He was always too preoccupied with his mobster duties. On rare occasions, he would join you in your shared bed, but by the time he arrived, you were already fast asleep. You always tried to fit with his schedule to at least say goodnight to him or wake up to see him by your side, but all your attempts failed. So when Tom said he had a free day, which he could have whenever he wanted seeing he was his own boss, you jumped at the opportunity.

You woke, bundled in the white sheets, yawning and stretching before looking to the usually empty space beside you. Tom laid there, curls tousled and chest heaving peacefully. You felt a warmth in your core, and you smiled.

You decided to get ready for your day with your boyfriend, preparing brunch and a list of things you could do together in your single day together.

things to do:

1. eat brunch together

2. go out on a romantic walk

3. have afternoon tea

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

6. make a surprise dinner for tom

7. snuggle and let the rest of the night flow as it goes

Tom sat up on the bed, stretching his arms while letting out a loud yawn. He hadn’t slept this well in a while.

A delectable aroma blew into the room, tickling his nose. He breathed in the scent, following it to its source. He stared at the table of his favorite foods displayed in front of him.

You entered the dining room holding another plate of food. You placed the platter neatly between two other plates, finishing off your first surprise for Tom.

“Christ, darling, what’s all this for?” Tom spoke.

You jumped, not realizing he had been standing there, “Oh my goodness, Thomas, you scared me,” you looked at the food, “It’s all for you. I wanted to make your day off enjoyable. Besides, we haven’t spent much time together in a while.”

He smiled, “I love you so much.”

Blushing, you replied, “I love you, too. Now let’s eat.”

Brunch was pleasant but awkward. You didn’t know what to talk about with him, so you resorted to staring at him while he ranted about problems. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for his problems, but you wanted this day to be about the both of you. You plastered a genuine smile on your face, though it began to falter.

“I was thinking that we could go out to town and just walk around, that is if you want,” you suggested when the two of you finished your meal.

“O-Oh, um, sure. Let me go get ready, love,” he walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before quietly thanking you.

His small signs of affection were enough to erase your worries. You told yourself you overreacted about him talking about himself at breakfast. He did care.

Hand in hand, you and Tom strolled through the crowded streets of Kingston upon Thames. You admired the beautiful city, feeling lucky to be able to live there.

More than you wanted, Tom’s attention went to his phone. He laughed and smiled at whatever was on his phone. He typed away, glowing with happiness.

You felt a pang of jealousy.

Who could be making Tom feel like this? He seems to be enjoying his day more with the person throw his screen than the one right beside him. You thought to yourself, grip loosening on his hand.

He didn’t notice the change, and you frowned. Your boyfriend was glowing with happiness, and you would be a bad girlfriend if you ruined it. You put on a fake smile, hoping it would convince him even though he hadn’t looked at you at all since brunch.

He cares, you convinced yourself.

“Um, Tom?” You asked, seeing the tea house you were planning to get afternoon tea at.

“Mhm?” His eyes were locked on his phone.

“I was thinking that we could get some afternoon tea. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you tried to look him in the eyes, only to fail miserably.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he mumbled.

Still holding his hand, you pulled him to the building. The receptionist looked at Tom then to you, noticing the lack of attention he was giving you. You tried to smile it off, but she gave you a look of sympathy before bringing you to your table.

It was a shame Tom’s eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. The table you’d gotten had a perfect view of River Thames.

“Tom,” you squeaked.

He didn’t respond.

“Tom,” you said louder.

Still no answer.

“Tom,” you said in a demanding voice.

His head snapped up, “What?”

You sighed. This day was definitely going unexpectedly. The worse part about it all was that you wanted the day to be over. You were mad at yourself for that. He cares about you, so why couldn’t you care about him?

“D’you like how the day’s going?” You asked in a softer tone.

“Mhm, great,” he said flatly.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you let him go back to ogling his phone. You wanted to cry. The only day you had with him, wasted.

Tears filled your eyes, feeling ignored by Tom. To avoid tears from rolling down your cheeks and exposing your true feelings about how the day was going, you dismissed yourself to the ladies room.

Tom heard the rawness in your voice and looked up. Your head was down as you excused yourself. He carefully watched you as you quickly scattered away. He heard a sniffle but doubted that it came from you. You were the one who dragged him along, anyways.

You were thankful to be back home. You didn’t feel like preparing a grand dinner anymore. You felt like going to sleep and end the day.

Goddamnit, Y/N! Pull yourself together. He’s always putting you on top. You need to put him on top now, you scolded yourself.

Trying to muster up all the remaining sanity in you, you headed to the kitchen and worked away.

Hours passed as you prepared the meal. You made sure nothing went wrong, working slowly. With precision, you plated each meal. Your hands shook, and you droplets of sweat rolled down your forehead.

“Done,” you murmured to yourself, smiling.

Everything looked beautifully put together, as you were an amateur. You gave yourself a small pat on the back. Then it struck you. You missed some things on your list.

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

You slapped your forehead. Where had the time gone? You felt terrible. You missed a couple hours of spending time with your boyfriend. Hopefully the dinner would make up for it.

Unsurprisingly, dinner wasn’t much different from the rest of the day. You were thrown to the side while he enjoyed himself.

No, he hasn’t had the time to relax and enjoy himself in a while. I can’t blame him for that, you sighed, I just wish he would enjoy and relax with me.

“Thanks for the dinner, darling. It was... delicious,” he hesitated.

Your attention moved to him. You gave him a small smile, feeling slightly offended by his hesitation.

He left the room, moving to the living room. You were left to do all the dishes and work by yourself.

Great.

You stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off. You slipped on Tom’s oversized shirt, wearing a matching set of lingerie underneath. You hoped it was enough to grab his attention.

You heard murmuring downstairs. You walked down the stairs, seeing Tom on the couch with Tuwaine, Harrison, and Harry.

“H-Hello, boys,” you said, catching their attention. “Sorry about my - um - improper outfit. I didn’t know you’d be coming over.”

“S’alright, love. Mind getting us some wine, though?” Harrison asked, smirking.

“But-- I-- Sure,” you said pathetically.

You brought them four glasses and an expensive bottle of wine, opened of course.

You settled beside Tom, who inched away from you. It struck your heart.

“Don’t you think you should at least go get properly dressed before joining us?” He glared at you.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you whispered, feeling a tug at your heart. “I think I’ll be heading to bed now. Goodnight,” you announced, walking away in a rush.

You rushed up the stairs only to hear Tom complain, “She gets so clingy and annoying.”

Tears poured down your cheeks. A silent sob ripped from your lips. You ran to the room, tripping over yourself several times.

He didn’t care at all. He cares about himself. Only him, you realized.

“Mate, she’s your girlfriend. She cares about you. You shouldn’t say that shit about her,” Tuwaine said, feeling sympathy for the girl.

“It’s true, she’s been clinging to my ass all day,” Tom groaned.

“Have you gone out with her recently? Talked to her, at least?” Harrison asked.

Tom didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the bottles of wine ahead of him. That answered enough.

“Tom, did you think that she just missed you?” Harry interrupted the silence.

“Just drop it, guys,” Tom snapped, starting to feel slightly guilty.

You laid in your shared bed, holding yourself in your arms. The blanket wrapped around your body as a shield.

Quiet sobs escaped your mouth, tears rolling onto your pillow. You were offended Tom would call you ‘clingy’ and ‘annoying.’ You tried so hard to make this day good for him, and he thinks you’re clingy.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, happy that Tom didn’t come to bed before you fell asleep for once.

Tuwaine, Harry, and Haz left after a couple wines. They tried to convince him to treat you better but only received the response, “Let’s talk about something else.”

Tom had seen his own faults after a long, irritating talk with the boys. He was being an ass to you for no reason.

He hurried up the stairs after putting all the dishes into the sink, hoping to catch you awake. To his dismay, you were already out. Tear streaks decorated your puffy face while some new tears slowly moved down your face.

He placed a pained kiss to your forehead. You stirred, moving into his familiar touch. A small smile danced on your lips. His hand moved to caress your cheek, admiring your beauty even when you were in pain.

Without waking you, he slid into the space beside you in bed. He held your waist, nuzzling his face in your neck. You pressed against him, attracted to the heat. He smiled and leaned to kiss your head again.

“Goodnight, darling,” he whispered before drifting to sleep.

You woke up with a pounding headache. You tried to sit up but something, or someone, held you down. You looked at the warm figure holding you and saw Tom with his arms wrapped around you. You felt a sting in your chest and tried to pull away.

You were able to maneuver out of his arms without waking him.

Dizzily, you made your way to the kitchen. You got yourself a cup of water and took some pain relievers. You plopped onto the couch lying on your side. Your legs tucked, and you curled your body into a ball. Without knowing, you fell asleep not too long after.

Tom noticed you were out of bed when he woke.

“Darling?” He mumbled, looking around.

With no response, he assumed you had gone to the kitchen for breakfast.

He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Surprisingly, you weren’t there. He saw a cup and pain relievers lying on the counter.

“Princess?” He looked around, still no sight of you.

He walked over to the dining room then to the living room. He saw your limp body on the couch, letting out soft sighs. You were cuddled into a tight ball, shivering from the cold. Picking up a blanket from the room, he draped it over your shaking body. He sat on the couch with you, rubbing your body warm over the blankets.

You felt a weighted cloth enrapture you, giving you warmth. Instinctively, you snuggled into it. A pressure rubbed up and down your arm, further warming you.

You opened your eyes to see Tom hovering over you. You looked closely at him, believing this to be your imagination. Under the sheets, you pinched yourself and felt sharp pains on your arms.

“Ow,” you mumbled.

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asked, worry flooding his features.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sat up and began to put some distance between the two of you.

“Where are you going?” He scooted closer to you until you had no where else to go.

“I gotta get ready. You should, too, ‘cause, y’know, work,” you fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist as you began to walk away, “I don’t have to do anything today. I can stay with you.”

“No, it’s alright. Besides, there must be someone to interrogate today,” you snapped, pulling your wrist from his grip.

He didn’t know why your mood had changed. Just yesterday, you were so loving and warm to him.

Did you overhear him last night? He worried.

“Love,” he knocked on the door, “can I come in?”

He heard a couple of sniffles behind the closed door and frowned to himself.

“Just a sec,” you called out with a pained voice.

Tom could hear your tears in you voice and concerningly asked, “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, just fine,” you squeaked, slowly feeling your composure falter.

“Darling, open the door,” he demanded.

“Wait a moment, please,” you said too weakly.

“Open the do-”

“I will,” you snapped, “I’m trying to get ready, s’all,” you replied with a calmer tone.

You heard no response from him and expected that he left, so you jumped when the door was thrown open. The brunette stood in the doorway, staring at your red rimmed eyes.

“Tom, I’m fine,” you wiped away a stray tear, smiling, “See? Perfectly fine.”

“No, you’re not! Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not,” he growled.

“It’s not much of your problem, is it?” You glared at him, beginning to lose your patience.

“Not much of my problem? How is my girlfriend not my problem? It’s my duty to protect and care for you. Why are you-” He was infuriated.

“Well I wouldn’t want to come off as too clingy! Maybe I don’t want to annoy you!” You shouted.

So you did hear him, Tom sighed.

Seeing the evident guilt and shock in his face, you continued, “That’s right, I heard it. You couldn’t’ve even waited for me to get back to the room! Some boyfriend you are,” you mumbled the end, pushing past him.

“Wait,” he called after you, “I didn’t mean what I said. It was just in the heat of the moment. I was just stressed with everything going with the mob.”

“Right,” you nodded unbelievably.

“Haz and them helped me see that I was the one in the wrong. I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry, love, truly, very sorry,” he pouted at you.

“You really hurt me, Tom. I planned a whole day out for us yesterday. You ignored me for practically the entire day,” you hiccuped, a rush of disappointment filled you.

“I know. I’m so sorry, love. I was such an asshole. You deserve to be treated better. I’ll fix that, I swear. I’ll spend more time with you. We could go on dates again. I’ll even make sure that I’ll go to bed with you,” he carefully walked over to you as if you would run if he got too close.

“But how would I know if you were talking shit about me to your mob cronies?” You asked, doubtful to trust him.

“I’ll personally have Haz, Tuwaine, or Harry slap me if I do, but no need to worry, love, I won’t take you for granted anymore,” he placed a gentle kiss to your head, “Now, would you like to join me for a day of just us?”

You giggled, “No, I wouldn’t,” hurt filled Tom’s features, “I would love to.”

“You’re such a tease,” he chuckled, “but I love you for it.”

You smiled up at him, “I missed having you around, Tommy. I spent so many nights yearning for you.”

“No more nights like that, alright? I’m here til the end of the line,” he answered softly.

And so, Tom kept his word. Everything has changed. He became the same Tom that you had met at the coffee shop. You obviously still disagreed with him running the mob, but he would always reassure you, telling you that he wouldn’t leave you.

He didn’t did care after all. He cares about himself the both of us. Only him us, you realized.

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the-melting-world · 4 years ago

Text

Goosebumps 🍋

~ In which a pscyhic pirate reunites with a quiet quartermaster...

@midsummer-masquerade

Sun Bai x Jacqui

Jacqui belongs to @apprenticealec

You can read all the fics to Off To The Races: A Midsummer Masquerade here.

Music: "Goosebumps" by Travis Porter

Day 5 of The Midsummer Masquerade ~ Voyeurism

Smut Prompts 9 + 48: "Is it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?” + “Shall we put that mouth to better use?”

cw: brief mention of death

~ 3k words

Shortly after Rodrigo leaves his quartermaster's side to pursue a masquerade guest with a swan mask, Jacqui starts to feel a familiar, encouraging sensation lightly pressing up the against the nape of his neck...

As much as Jacqui couldn’t get enough of Sun Bai’s telepathic kisses, this was the one time he could pass on them. Especially if it meant he could catch up to the slippery mantis as he took Jacqui on a maddening journey through the Palace corridors.

Though Jacqui was able to keep Bai in his sights – thanks to both of their heights, none of them had a problem getting lost in the sea of people – Bai was always just out of Jacqui’s reach. Yet the pirate continued to taunt and poke the quartermaster with those psychic touches that felt eerily similar to Bai’s lips walking down his spine.

Eventually, the halls grew darker and less crowded.

Bai, Jacqui called out in his own head, knowing that the other could hear him, where the hell are you taking us?

A kiss ghosted across Jacqui’s pressure point, followed by some quiet snickering.

[You’ll see.]

Finally, Bai went still before a pair of tall, metal doors. Jacqui caught up to him and, with breathtaking control, steered him against the wall. This close to Bai’s lean body, barely covered by a dark silk robe, Jacqui could hardly hold back from burying his face in the pirate’s neck. And so he didn’t.

Bai hissed and trembled in what Jacqui knew to be pleasure as he walked his lips up and down Sun Bai’s throat, taking in his scent of rain and whatever herbal tea he last had to drink.

Jacqui reached for the opening in Bai’s robe and slowly dragged the pad of his finger down his chest. “Is it good when I touch you here?” He pulled the edge of Bai’s robe off his shoulder “Or maybe here?” Jacqui whispered as he lowered his head and dropped a kiss to the exposed skin.

To Jacqui’s surprise, it was Bai who eliminated the space between them. “I need you closer.” The pirate sounded desperate, almost whiny.

Jacqui rocked his hips forward and once again rolled his face against his partner’s neck.

“I’m here. Take as much of me as you want.”

Jacqui sensed some of the internal battle taking place in Bai. He didn’t miss a single shiver or shudder from the former bounty hunter. Bai dragged his palms up and down Jacqui’s bare chest and keened his hips forward so his erection rubbed insistently against the quartermaster’s.

[Goddamnit Jacqui, I want all of you.]

He sounded more frustrated with himself more than anything. Jacqui didn’t know if it would ever be the right time to ask Bai how he got this way. Sometimes in the rare quiet hours on the Bleeding Heart, he wondered about Bai’s behaviors. He had seen him without clothes and knew that he didn’t have any scars or brands to speak of. So what was the source of all his avoidance?

There were other peculiarities as well. In the bedroom, Bai had an aversion to being bent over solid surfaces. He preferred to stretch out on the bed or even the floor. He was also content with being on his hands and knees. These aversions weren’t something Bai ever came out and spoke to Jacqui about. The observant quartermaster simply happened to pick up on things over time.

For now, however, his curiosity would have to wait. He wanted Bai just as much as he felt wanted by him. Jacqui used a fraction of his strength to line his entire body up with Bai’s, pinning him firmly to the wall. He fed a hand inside his robe, relishing in the way Bai’s smooth skin rippled as Jacqui’s palm traveled down to his waist where he firmly gripped. Jacqui wanted to feel more of Bai between his legs so he spread his own a little, encouraging Bai to press his thigh in between them.

Jacqui’s other hand came up last to Bai’s head. Soon he was lost in his ghostly white waves, careful not to disturb his glasses as he moved in with deep and tender kisses. By now, Bai no longer struggled with matching Jacqui’s rhythm. His body might have been shivering and losing its grip every time Jacqui flexed his muscles, but that wasn’t the case with his mouth. Bai’s jaw went slack for Jacqui as his tongue came alive and eager to tease the ring in the pirate’s lip.

“We need to find a room,” Jacqui groaned as he drew back just enough to look into Bai’s eyes. Bai was clearly in a giving mood and he didn’t want to be in a place open enough to risk getting interrupted by any of the crew.

Jacqui suddenly had a thought. It made him smirk as he drew Bai’s face up by his chin. “And then maybe we can put that mouth to better use, hm?” He gave him a soft kiss, but immediately regretted his words when he pulled back and saw the look on Bai’s face.

Jacqui wished he could kick himself. If there was one thing Bai had come clean about in the past, it was his vulnerabilities around any oral affection below the waist.

Jacqui stepped back and hid his face in his palm. “I’m sorry. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I totally forgot–”

Bai’s hand came up to rest on Jacqui’s arm. He gently pried Jacqui’s palm from his face. “No. That’s actually something I wanted to…” He swallowed and adjusted his lenses. “Just follow me.”

The room that Bai led Jacqui inside of was almost completely dark except for a spot in the center that was lit up by a single beam of light. There was a cushion on the floor, resting under the spotlight.

Jacqui stopped Bai from going any further. “Wait. Before I forget.” He pulled out something he had carried with from the ship. “This is for you.”

Bai didn’t look at the gift until both of them were under the light. He quietly observed a simple solid black case. Once he figured out how it opened, he discovered the rich velvety interior. It came in a nostalgic shade of green much like the jade stones occupying the piercings in Bai’s septum and bridge.

“For my glasses?” The psychic whispered.

Jacqui smiled as he carefully removed the blue-tinted frames from Bai’s face and set them inside the case. “Yes. So you don’t have to keep replacing them so often. Besides, I figured it would come in handy tonight.” He set the case on the ground out of the light.

“Now.” Jacqui faced Bai again. “What was it that you wanted to show me?”

Bai looked a little lost for words. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting the gift. Jacqui reassured him by brushing his thumb over the mole close to Bai’s eye.

“You can talk to me with your mind if that’s easier.”

Bai turned his eyes up under the light, which illuminated the true gray in them.

[It is easier this way.]

Jacqui wasn’t sure at first, but he thought he heard the space suddenly fill up with the sound of a violin.

[You asked me earlier if I wanted to put my mouth to better use.]

The darkness in the room began to lift.

[The truth is I do. I have. I always have.]

It didn’t take long for Jacqui to realize that they were not alone.

[These sort of things take a little longer for me. But I think I’m ready now, Jacqui. I wanted to make tonight special for that reason.]

Jacqui scanned the room to see that they were surrounded by chairs, which were all occupied. There were two rows. The second row belonged to the orchestra. The first row closest to Jacqui and Bai was full of guests barely clothed and touching themselves in ways that were meant to bring pleasure.

[It’s going to be special because we get to have a witness. Quite a few actually.]

The party guests’ limbs were positioned at odd angles. That’s when Jacqui noticed that they all seemed to be controlled by strings at their joints. He followed the threads up and and up and up until…

[Puppet masters and their “marionettes,”] Bai explained. [It’s some sort of kink magic. I don’t know. All the parties involved are consenting, I promise.]

Jacqui’s heart was causing a lump to form at the base of his throat. He looked back at Bai.

“They’re going to watch us while you–”

Bai collided messily with Jacqui’s mouth. Hot and breathy, he whispered, “While I suck you off – yes, yes. Yes.”

[If you’re not into it, just say the word. I’ll make them go away.]

Jacqui steadied his breath against Bai’s already swollen lips. He cleared his throat and said with calm confidence, “Let them watch.”

Sun Bai didn’t waste any more time talking. He dipped his face against Jacqui’s neck, working kisses down his collarbone and over his chest. His fingers came to Jacqui’s crotch to unlace the drawstrings on his tight, leather pants.

Meanwhile, the orchestra and the masturbating marionettes carried on in the background.

[Do you want to know why I don’t get jealous when I see Rodrigo all over you? Or lose my cool whenever he catches wind of me and chases me off? It’s because I know and more importantly I know that you know: you’re mine. Just mine.]

Bai was on his knees now, dragging his open mouth over Jacqui’s tight bulge. His breath was unsteady under the musical whine of the strings playing in the background. Bai dug his fingers behind the leather and seesawed the fabric down just enough to free Jacqui's cock.

The psychic looked up at the quartermaster as he formed a ring with his index and thumb that he then slid from Jacqui’s base and up until he gently pinched the head. Bai maintained eye contact as he brought his face forward and dabbed the crease of his lower lip with Jacqui’s small spell of precum.

Jacqui’s face burned at the sight. He knew he had no control over the muscles in his jaw. Was he wetting or biting his lip? Was he arching his eyebrow in curious fascination? He had no clue.

Bai was tonguing his slit now, his eyes closed in tranquil concentration. He dug his fingers deeper past the lip of Jacqui’s pants and gave a slow tug, filling his mouth up with Jacqui’s impressive length. Bai took his time salivating over every centimeter of Jacqui’s cock, savoring each ridge, each hidden dimple that he would have otherwise missed if he had simply tried to swallow him whole.

“Bai,” Jacqui breathed, “I want you in my head too. Talk to me.”

Bai’s eyes fluttered open. He gave the softest of smirks, his mouth still full of cock.

[What’s wrong? Don’t like the orchestra that I’ve prepared for you? And here I thought you were a man who could appreciate the more alternative art forms.]

Before Jacqui could respond, Bai’s presence was back.

[Is it getting to be too much? The crowds? The lights? I can turn them off if that’s better.]

Jacqui didn’t know how Bai controlled it, but the room went completely dark. The music was still going and the audience was still getting off on themselves.

[There. Sounds like they’ve seen enough to take care of themselves. Now it’s just you and me.]

The sounds of the marionettes groaning and cycling through their orgasms were only amplified in Jacqui’s ears. That and Bai’s wet, deliberate sucking.

[Show me you’re mine, Jacqui.]

Jacqui bit back a groan. “What do you mean?”

[I know you won’t ever say it outright. Out of respect for your captain. I understand that, but I know you to be a man of action rather than words. So show me.]

The lights came back on. Bai hollowed out his mouth and came to a stop.

Jacqui shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Bai came off his cock and took a moment to swallow his spit. Then he stood up and kissed Jacqui with such tenderness, the quartermaster felt his heart actually skip a beat.

“You don’t want to hurt me?”

Jacqui shook his head again, his silver ring lightly brushing along Bai’s lower lip. Bai steadied Jacqui’s head by reaching up and tightening his hand in the roots of his locs.

“Then don’t.” He steadied Jacqui’s lips with a kiss. “You know I trust you.”

Bai drifted back down to kneel on the cushion. This time Jacqui was ready. Eager even. He fumbled at his leather still constricting his waist and peeled it down to his knees so his legs could breathe and spread a little wider.

Stay with me, Jacqui called out when he felt Bai trying to fade from his head. The cool feel of wet grass stayed as he worked his cock past Bai’s lips and over his tongue.

[–mmk!]

Jacqui sensed the ebb and flow of Bai’s reactions as he held his face and found his rhythm in it, his own groans barely a whisper despite all of the charged blood that had rushed straight to his extremities.

Bai’s lashes fluttered out of his control. His gunmetal eyes lolled behind them. And then the lights began to flicker, like a strobe, dancing to the music of the marionettes and the violins and Bai’s patient gagging.

Jacqui began to feel Bai’s presence in a new way in the form of a firm, uneven pulse. He realized it was the beat of his own cock every time it kissed the back of Bai’s throat. The sensation was so hypnotic, Jacqui let go of a shuddering breath and leaned into it.

The strobe lights danced for them, Bai’s reactions registering in Jacqui’s vision only as flickers and flashes. The steady, constant beat of his hips took both of them by storm.

“Bai, I’m coming.”

[Yeah, I know.]

Jacqui was seeing stars. His fingers became tangled up in Bai’s ghostly waves. His hips managed not to jerk too hard, but he couldn’t help anchoring Bai’s face downward so his cock could take advantage of the natural curve of his throat. He opened his hips some more as he emptied out his excitement. Jacqui groaned unexpectedly at the sensation of Bai’s esophagus gently nipping the tip of his cock with each desperate swallow.

Despite his efforts, Bai hadn’t been able to get it all down. While the orchestra was wrapping up and the puppet magicians were packing their things and filing out, Sun Bai was still trying to catch his breath against Jacqui’s leg. Jacqui stroked his hair while Bai leaned his cheek against the quartermaster’s damp thigh and waited until his chest stopped heaving.

Jacqui expected that when Bai was ready, he would tuck Jacqui’s cock back in his pants and go about the rest of his night. But Bai stayed, leaving breathy, half-hearted kisses along his partner’s inner thigh.

This went on for some time, to the point where Jacqui’s already damp skin tingled under the tenderness of Bai’s lips and the light brushing of the soft, dark hair from his chin. All the other guests had left the dark hall.

Jacqui, who wasn’t used to this sort of attention, especially from Bai, called out to him. “Babe, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know that.” Bai shot Jacqui a look before he went back to kissing and sighing against him. Jacqui’s face burned under the prolonged affection. He returned to massaging his fingers against Bai’s scalp, which only earned him more delayed reactions that walked a fine line between an exhale and a whimper.

Finally, Bai helped Jacqui adjust his pants before getting back to his feet. Jacqui walked over to where he had set down the glasses case and handed them off to Bai.

“Thank you. I…” Bai hesitated. “I got a room for us. But if you want to go back to yours–”

“I’m staying with you tonight.”

Bai turned around before Jacqui could catch his reaction. “Alright then. It’s this way.”

Sun Bai’s chambers were sleek and free of the usual masquerade decorations. Without many words, Jacqui and Bai helped each other out of the more restrictive components of their costumes until Bai was just in his silk robe. He brought another robe out of the closet for Jacqui, so he wouldn’t get cold. This one was dark blue, almost black. The swirls of gold painted in the fabric were only visible when they caught the light at certain angles.

“You can keep that,” Bai said just as Jacqui was in the middle of calculating the fortune something like this must have been worth.

Soon they were under the sheets, Jacqui’s back resting against the pillows and the headrest while Bai chose to lay his head on the quartermaster’s chest. With one leg draped over Jacqui’s thigh and his arm resting along his abdomen, Bai encouraged him to let down his bun and massage his darker roots. While Jacqui happily went about doing so, running his fingers through the psychic’s pale locks, Bai spoke quietly about his travels since they had last seen each other.

“We got a cat. He’s gray and likes to ride on my shoulders sometimes.”

“He sounds a lot sweeter than Mr. Pickles,” Jacqui mused. “What’s his name?”

Bai offhandedly flexed his wrist. “Gatsby... Don’t ask me what it means. Sascha named him. Probably has something to do with guns.”

The pirates kept chatting until Jacqui started to yawn.

Bai shifted a little. “Hey. Stay up with me. Don’t let me fall asleep either.”

Jacqui arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”

In all the time they had known each other, Bai had never spent the night. This was also the longest he and Jacqui had spent in a position like this. Cuddling seemed a strange word to use, but Jacqui honestly didn’t know what else to call it.

Bai hesitated. “Because…”

Jacqui held his breath. A few beats later, Bai’s confession came out honest and straightforward.

“Because the last time I fell asleep in someone’s arms, I woke up in a pit of dead bodies.”

Jacqui stiffened ever so slightly, hoping Bai hadn’t noticed.

Bai didn’t turn his head to look back at Jacqui. In fact, he didn’t move at all.

“I was nineteen.”

Jacqui closed his eyes as he dipped his face towards Bai’s crown.

“I won’t let you fall asleep.” He wrapped both arms around Bai and held him as tightly as he could. “I promise.”

Sun Bai let out a very small breath.

[Thank you.]

#the arcana #sun bai the psychic #jacqui the quartermaster #midsummer masquerade #VesuviaAfterDark #death mention #lemon #minors dni #my writing #baiqui

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poormeowmeowcollector · 4 years ago

Text

First Kiss, But Not On The Lips

Pair: Tony/ace!Loki (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, nightmares, panic attack, isolation and alcohol.

Notes: Basically, the idiots in love trope is my favourite. Tony is a bi mess, Loki doesn't care about a thing (or cares about too many things), Thor is a himbo and Steve is trying. Also, yes, Loki has the ace ring (and a pride flag in his room) and he legally cannot sit like a normal person. And Steve lost the bet because he didn't expect Tony to find out about his crush on Loki within a month.

Read on AO3

"You know what, I get it. We all deserve second chances and blah blah blah, but can't Loki redeem his name on another solar system? What about Jötunnheim? He did a genocide there too!" Tony argues. At least he moves past the redeem part.

"I told you they would not accept me," Loki sighs at Thor, trying to appear stoic. But Tony sees the disappointment in him. Because he knows how to spot it in the mirror.

"Fine, he can stay for a month as a testing period. But if he causes trouble, he's gone," Steve decides. He loves speaking out the decisions even though no one will disagree.

And Thor smiles widely and hugs his brother. But Tony can still see the disappointment in Loki.

~~~

Sleeping is hard while knowing he's in the same building. Tony expected it, but it's still annoying.

"You know he was a victim too, why are you so afraid?" He asks himself but no answer is given.

He knows he won't be able to sleep, and there is a broken suit waiting for him in the lab.

Well, if he's about to pull an all nighter, he better be productive.

~~~

Tony had gotten his all nighter on a schedule. He would wait until Steve is asleep, go to the lab, and return to his bed only one hour before Steve wakes up. Of course and they all noticed his dark circles and moodiness, but he would blame nightmares and get away with it. Not that he was lying.

And, apparently, Tony is not the only one with sleeping issues.

Thor was claiming that Gods don't need sleep or nutrition. But Thor is also a sleeper and eats every time like it's his last time. But Loki doesn't. He barely touches whatever food is placed in front of him or drinks a little water and he looks more sleep deprived than Tony. But no one has the guts to say to a thousand years old powerful cranky god to go sleep or to eat, not even Thor.

And he doesn't talk. It's been days since his voice was heard. Thor doesn't like it, but the few times he mentioned it or tried to get Loki to speak or take part in a talk, he only got a glare. And Tony still doesn't know how Thor still makes Loki even get out of his room.

~~~

Once again, Tony is working on a new suit, during his favourite inhuman hours. Because two things come out at 3am, the devil and Tony Stark.

But the first dude is not helping Tony with the non functioning leg that's driving him insane.

"It's not going to work," Someone comments from the lab's door. Who the hell is up that late?

"Excuse me?" Tony turns around, only to face Loki leaning against the door frame.

"Remaking the joint to resemble a human's is not going to work. You need less strength and more flexibility, probably even another material," Loki explains, staring at Tony. He makes a small nod. Loki then straightens himself and walks closer.

"You know about mechanical engineering?" Tony asks.

"Science, magic, it's all the same on Asgard… and I happen to be the Master of Magic, and therefore…" He trails off, something sad blooming in his eyes. Homesickness, Tony recognises with ease.

"Alright, so, how do you think we'll make it work?" Tony asks, a grin on his face. But instead of answering, Loki just lifts his sleeves and grabs a wrench.

Tony watches as Loki plays with the machine—he looks more like he plays than like he's repairing something—and uses his magic to change the elements on the materials, green glows appearing and disappearing. And, after the five minutes it took him, the leg is perfect.

"Wow…" Tony whistles. Loki grins and sits on the working table, spinning the wrench on his fingers.

"It will probably last for a millennium or two," He shrugs, like it's something easy. And Tony is more impressed.

And they go on with the suit, finishing it before it's time for Tony to go and pretend he's sleeping. And Tony would use this time.

"Well, I didn't know you're good at engineering," Tony trails off. Loki shrugs in response, again sitting on the table with his legs in lotus position.

"You never asked,"

"Yeah, sorry about that. You are just too…" He suddenly can't find the word.

"Cold?" Loki asks, raising his eyebrows at Tony.

"Reserved is how I would phrase it, actually," Tony responds, making Loki hum.

"You know what, nevermind. I'm asking now. What do you like? What don't you like? Just rumble about things," He decides, big brown eyes staring at Loki. And he responds with another shrug.

"I don't know�� it is quite late, so I'll probably head to my bed. Good morning, Stark," He jumps up and leaves, before Tony can even think of stopping him.

Right, he's just waiting for people to ask…

"So… Do you remember the rumble offer? Cause it still stands," Tony eyes Loki. And Loki responds with a smile.

~~~

The next morning, Loki didn't appear. Thor explained that he crashed on the bed. And it must be the hell of a sleep because he got out of his room three days after. Again, while Tony was working on a suit.

"Hey, wanna help?" Tony yells at Loki as he walks outside of the lab. And Loki nods a yes and gets to work.

"Still not sleeping, Stark?" He asks, his smart eyes pinned on the helmet of the suit.

"No rest for the wicked," Tony smiles. Looks like he's more talkative now that he's fresh.

"Tell me about it…" He sighs. Then, he grunts a bit, probably gotten hit by some remaining electricity.

Tony hadn't noticed before how pretty Loki's smile is.

And Loki takes the opportunity and starts to talk. Tony learns a lot about Loki during the Great Rumble. Dandelions are his favourite flowers, thanks to the Æsir library he became an encyclopaedia of random fun facts (even took it far enough to share some), he's a cat person, he loves classical music or music without lyrics, and then he starts sharing some stories of him and Thor as kids.

But Tony notices other things too. He noticed that Loki's eyes seem to glow when he talks about things that make him happy, he moves his hands around, he has this cute little smile that makes his face shine. And when he talks fast, his Nordic accent slips out—just some trilled 'r's or some harder sounds—and he also has a stutter that slips out. And Tony finds all of those so beautiful, but he can't say it.

"Your turn," Loki says. And Tony freezes.

Because his mind is nothing but simping for Loki, right now.

"I… em… Ya know, I…" He mutters, trying to think of something. But, Goddamnit, those shining green eyes pinning on him and waiting are so distracting.

"I'm actually bisexual, but more attracted to women than men," He snaps, finally finding something. But what if Asgard is not so accepting? Earth is having issues with those things and those guys live in the middle ages.

"Oh, nice," Loki shrugs after noticing Tony's brief pause. And it's enough to relax Tony.

"And… Dammit, this is so hard… I like cheeseburgers?" He squirts. "I don't know, can't think of something right now… when something pops up, I'll let you know," He gives up and rubs his nose bridge.

"No worries, you're hot anyways,"

Loki grins after seeing how red Tony's face became. And Tony clears his throat in hope of containing himself somehow.

"Alrighty… How's the helmet going? Tony moves the subject away. He sees Loki short-circuiting for a long moment, before remembering what they are doing here and grabbing back the helmet.

"It won't let me fix it… whenever I try to do something to the source of the issue, I get striked," He answers.

"Have you tried plastic gloves?" Tony asks, not even looking up from the hand he's oiling.

"For the helmet?" Loki asks, his eyebrows furrowed at Tony.

"For your hands, you idiot!" Tony screams, his head snapping heavenwards. Why did he agree on this?

"Fine, fine… Norns, dauðlegir eru svo stuttir í skapi... —Norns, Mortals are so short tempered…" Loki mutters under his breath.

"You know JARVIS can translate from Old Norse to English, right?" Tony snaps.

Loki shrugs and leaps into the working table and walks across it with three big steps, jumping back down with grace and opening shelves to find the gloves.

"They won't fit," He yells at Tony.

"Whatcha mean they won't fit?" Tony yells back.

Loki jumps on the table again and ends right behind Tony.

"I mean, they won't fit. They're too small," He answers to Tony's ear. Tony has learned how much Loki loved climbing on furniture, so he just turns around instead of jumping around and cussing at the God.

"Come on… how big are your hands?" He asks. Loki grabs Tony's hand and places his palm against his own. Tony's fingers were beginning on Loki's second joints, his fingers long and thin. And Tony licks his lips, because he knows what big hands mean…

Stop being horny over deities, you idiot! It didn't end well with Jesus and it won't end well with this one too! The, usually silent, voice of reason reminds him.

"Maybe you can magic them into fitting…" He suggests. Loki nods and stretches the left glove with his right hand, a green light making it bigger as he slides his hand inside.

"Thank you, Stark…" He smiles and climbs back on the table, eyes pinned on the helmet as he's playing with the screwdriver. It's been two weeks since he came here, and he still uses only last names. But when Clint called him Odinson, Thor, Steve and the Hulk had to physically hold Loki from snapping the archer's neck. And no one dares to call him Laufeyson or even think about it.

"Hey," Tony snaps. Loki flinches at the sudden noise but composes himself right after. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya," Tony apologizes.

"It's fine… What do you want to ask?" Loki shrugs one shoulder, placing the helmet on his right and the screwdriver on his left.

"Why do you call everyone by their last name but don't want to be addressed as so?" He asks.

"I'm not anyone's friend, and first names feel too familiar for such a situation. And, I won't stay for a long time…" He answers, the livid glow in his eyes fading just so.

"And, your last name?"

"I don't have one…" He whispers, with what Tony recognises as shame in his voice. Tony frowns and walks closer, staying outside of Loki's personal space.

"But you're Thor's brother and he's an Odinson," He studied his words before speaking. The last thing he wants is to trigger Loki, even as an accident.

"On Asgard and Jötenheim, last names work differently. You choose the name of the parent who you are closest to and then add the -son, -dottir or -barn. But Odin and Laufey were not close at all, and Frigga could help but she chose to keep me at arm's reach. So, no last name…" Tony can see how Loki was trying hard not to show emotions, but he is so close to breaking.

"You know, with this logic, only Thor has a last name. Don't tell Steve, but Howard was a first class terrible father. Steve's dad abandoned him and his mother, after beating the poor woman. Clint's parents made him run away and go to the circus. Natasha was given her name in the Red Room, she doesn't know who her parents are. And Bruce's was violent too. The only people with decent parents are Thor and JARVIS." Tony should move the topic away, but he didn't. At least he tries to patch it up on the last bit.

"And Dum-E," Loki adds, with a barely visible smile. A fake one. Tony hears the robot's joints moving as he lifts his upper part.

"And Dum-E," Tony agrees with a smile, and the robot makes a few happy noises. Loki laughs.

"You know, he says he loves you," He turns to Tony.

"If that's so, he earned some nice oil," Tony grabs the oil and applies some to Dum-E's joint. It doesn't stop making those mechanic noises and when Tony is over, Loki's smiling at him from the table.

"He still says he loves me, right?" Tony asks. Loki makes a slight nod, not abandoning his small smile.

"And that you are the best dad," He adds. Tony laughs and pets Dum-E before heading back to the table. But he still won't get too close to Loki, he is very strict with his personal space.

Loki grabs back the helmet and starts poking it around with the tool, now ignoring Tony.

"So, you don't feel like talking, huh?" Tony asks.

"If you mean the topic you want to talk about, then no," Loki snaps, not raising his eyes. Tony nods, he knows better than invading Loki's personal space.

And Loki didn't open his mouth for the rest of the night. The next morning, he would pretend nothing happened, but Tony would see how something changed in him. How his eyes darkened and his face became colder.

~~~

The next night, Loki is even more grumpy. So, Tony avoids speaking, or making anything that has even the slightest chance to irritate him.

"You're scared of me…" Loki finally speaks, his voice soft like a whisper and his fingers playing with the black ring on his ring finger. Tony looks up from the metal glove he's making to stare at Loki.

"Should I be scared?" Tony asks, careful not to say the wrong words.

"You are too picky about what you do around me. Why not do that if not because you are scared?" He answers. And this is where Tony lets himself frown and talks without thinking.

"Maybe because I don't want to make you feel bad?" He lets his words come out without filters. And Loki raises his eyebrow at it.

"Well, you don't lie about it. But why are you so dedicated to this?" He narrows his eyes and crosses his hands, body leaning towards Tony.

And now, he can't answer. Why does he care so much? It's not that they're old friends like with Rhodey or ex-s but still friends like with Pepper. They're not even teammates. Loki said it himself, he will leave after the one month Steve gave him.

So, why does Tony care so much?

"Hmm, nice answer…" Loki snarls and looks away, playing again with the other hand of the suit.

"You're a cold son of a whore, you know that?" Tony spits, his eyes stabbing Loki. He now raises his glare again, but he looks more confused than before.

"I beg your pardon?" He blinks.

"I try to be decent towards you, okay? The reasons behind it don't matter. Could be fear, guilt, interest, it means jack. And you question me on how I dare be decent towards you and why and what I want from you! You know what, I have a question for you. Why can't you accept being treated as a normal person? Are you that messed up in the brain or you just love so much being alone and miserable?" Tony lets his thoughts come out as they are, not giving a care how much they will hurt Loki. But the moment he sees Loki's reaction, he regrets it.

The room gets cold enough for Tony to see his breathing. Loki leaves the tools and the metal hand beside him and locks his feet on a tight fatal position, his hands on his face and pulling some hair with enough strength to pull them out and his shoulders rising and falling too fast.

And Tony knows what this means… It means he messed up badly.

"Crap! Hey, buddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things…" He sprints closer. Loki raises his hand towards him, a green glow erupting from it and sending Tony flying to the other side of the lab.

Loki mutters something to this in Old Norse, before jumping up and leaving, his feet shaking as he was trying to walk towards the exit. But he manages to vanish in the dark corridor anyways.

And this time, Tony definitely messed up the worst way possible.

~~~

For the next two weeks, Loki doesn't get out of his room. And it only makes the knot in Tony's stomach grow tighter. He asks Thor all the time how Loki is, if he eats, if he sleeps, if he needs something. It's a wonder Thor hasn't grown tired of the constant questioning. And the answer is always the same, "I don't know, he won't let me in,".

And if everyone on the tower has learned something about Loki, is that things are bad when he keeps Thor at arm's length.

Tony wants to go and check on Loki himself, but he bets his right hand that Loki will spit curses at him, and he has every right to do so. So, he has to settle down on annoying Thor and worrying with him.

"You know what? It's my fault," Tony admits to Thor the night before Loki leaves. And Thor furrowed his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

Tony explains everything that happened that night, and Thor smiles with sympathy and touches Tony's neck.

"You were right on your words, that's why Loki reacted like this. He doesn't want people to know too much about him… But he won't be mad at you." He answers.

"But, why do I care so much? We barely know each other…" Tony asks.

"Have you thought of love?" Thor suggest. Tony is about to smack Thor for saying something like this, but it makes sense.

"Do… you don't happen to know if he's queer, right?" Tony makes the big question.

"I know very few Æsir who are not your definition of queer, but Loki was never open about those things. You better ask him…" He shrugs.

Well, Thor has a point. But Tony can't exactly ask Loki what his sexuality is while he's like this. So, he better wait till it's time.

"Thank you, Point Break…" Tony pats Thor's back. And then, JARVIS yells at them that Steve wants everyone in the central room.

And there is everyone here, even Loki. Well, an emotionally drained and mentally exhausted Loki, but he's there.

"As you know, your month has passed…" Steve begins talking, his Captain Voice on. Loki nods and lowers his shoulders to appear smaller.

"I'll be on my way, then…" He mutters, voice low and breaking. Steve wants to smile, but Loki's reaction stops him.

"So, you don't want to be an Avenger?" He lets his Captain mask fall, eyeing Loki with worry. And every single one of the Avengers is now doing the same. Tony hadn't realised that this antisocial emo little God had become so popular.

Loki lets his lips make a smile so big Tony bets it hurts like hell.

"You mean I can stay?" He asks, his voice now louder and livid.

"Can't see a reason to kick you out," Steve smiles too.

And Loki drags him to a hug tight enough to break the poor soldier in half, smiling like a sunbeam and rumbling thank you again and again.

"Alright, can you let me breathe?" Steve wheezes. Loki makes a small oh sound and lets go of the hug.

"Sorry, Steve," He hums, not breaking eye contact.

"Steve? Where's the "Rogers"?" Clint asks, his eyebrows raised and his hands signing along even though he wears his hearing aids.

"Well, since I'm about to stay, there's no point in calling you with your last names, is there?" Loki shrugs.

"Alright, you know what we need? A party. Who's with me?" Tony claps his hands and yells, glad to see everyone agreeing.

~~~

Apparently, being an alien God makes you hold your liquor a lot. Tony knew about Steve, but he didn't expect those two to have this stamina as well.

But Thor has started losing his balance and yelling at everyone how much he loves them in Old Norse and Loki's accent and stutter are showing, but he is just sitting on the bar and watching over the chaos.

This is your chance. He's happy and drunk enough, what could possibly go wrong? Tony thinks and stumbles towards Loki before he sits on a tall stool.

"So, are you having fun?" He asks, smiling at Loki and sipping on his scotch. It's fine, he's done this countless times before and he can do it now.

"It's quite nice, yes…" Loki hums, now turning to face Tony.

"And, em… Sorry about the other night… It was too much, should have been midler on ya," Tony mumbles, trying not to lower his eyes and break eye contact. Loki makes a soft nod.

"It's fine, you don't have to apologize… And you were quite right about some things…" He gives Tony a small smile as he talks, making him relax his shoulders a bit a mouth a thank you.

"And I wanna tell you something… I also talked to Thor about it… And I think… No, I'm pretty sure I have a crush on you. And, that's why the care and stuff…" Tony rumbles, his eyes big as he searches for reaction. But Loki stays untouched.

"I am… flattered… But I'm also asexual," He breathes out, staring back at Tony for a reaction.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't want to make it uncomfortable…" Tony rushes to apologize. Couldn't he see the black wedding ring? It's a symbol of asexuality!

"You know, things can work out platonically. I mean, you do start to grow on me…" Loki responds, smiling just a bit.

"Really? I mean, you don't mind?" Tony grins at the response, his eyes big at the God. Loki shrugs.

"Yeah, If you are okay with not getting laid with me…"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Tony gives Loki an ear to ear smile and grabs his right hand, kissing gently the black ring.

Loki's cheeks and ears get bright red and he bites his lower lip. Tony is quick to let go of his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable…" He chunters, now lowering his glare and playing with his glass.

"It was… nice…" Loki whispers, most likely to himself. But Tony still snaps his head up.

"Seriously?"

"Yes… And…" The red blush appears back in his cheeks as he fidgets with his sleeves. "It was the first time someone kissed me…"

"No way!" Tony exhales.

"I know, embarrassing…" Loki bites his lip again, breaking eye contact.

"I'm actually honoured. Not a lot of humans had the chance to steal the first kiss of a God, you know," Tony grins, hoping the joke is not that bad.

Loki reacts with a snorting sound and a light punch on the ribs, that sends Tony straight to the floor and makes the glass scatter in pieces.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?!" Loki squirts at Tony.

"I think I need a safeword…" Tony grunts.

He is sure that Loki will grimace on the joke, but instead, he giggles like a highschool girl.

"Most definitely yeah," He sighs, handing over an identical glass with the one they broke.

From the back of the room, no one sees Thor laughing as Steve sighs at the view of Loki and Tony and handing over the twenty dollars of the bet.

#Marvel fanfic #one shot #tony/loki #ace!Loki #fluff #marvel fluff #marvellousaces #maholidaybingo2020 #marvel fandom

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