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businesstiramisu · 3 months

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@canyourfavesurvivecastledracula -- I'm trying out the "argue at you" approach. tagging you b/c you don't have submissions open and I think this long enough to be an annoying ask. I don't think you know or care about this character, but *I* do, so here's my argument :P

Can Alphonse Elric survive Castle Dracula?

[the answer depends a LOT on which part of which canon we're using, but we're going to go vaguely with "middle part". That is to say, armor]

Al has one HUGE advantage against Dracula, which is that he has no corporeal human body (for now). He's not completely free of blood though -- if Dracula learns about the blood seal tethering his soul to this mortal plane, I fully believe he's learned enough Dark Magicks at Scholomance to fuck it up. So the question is, would he find out? Al is usually pretty good at hiding it… unless he just decides to tell people. So it depends on how their dynamic plays out.

Al would accept the crucifix from the townsfolk, and listen to their other advice. Even if he doesn't believe them, he's a polite boy, and you never know what information might be useful! Maybe their folktales have clues about the Philosopher's Stone, you never know. (Also in one version of canon he can understand German, so let's say language barriers aren't an issue.)

Dracula is bemused when an alchemist in full plate armor turns up asking to see his library instead of the solicitor he requested. Alchemists? He hasn't run into any of those in a while. But hey, the lawyer's not here yet, he's got time to fuck with this guy and have an extra snack.

The shaving incident wouldn't happen obviously, but Dracula might realize something is amiss because Al doesn't sleep. Or will he? Does Dracula pay enough attention to know when normal humans should be sleeping and Al isn't? If so, he will probably investigate, push boundaries, or stage a confrontation until he finds out Al's deal, and then he will be PISSED. No lawyer, and now no snack! This is bullshit! From here on out, it's WAR. If not, then...

If Al realizes this is a kidnapping and not a library loan, he will play along. He might not even mind. He's been kidnapped before, and it always worked out fine. Dracula might be more creepy and threatening than his other kidnappers, but Al's dealt with a wide variety of creepy and threatening in his quest, I just don't think he'd be fazed. And he is, as already mentioned, a polite person who would want to be a respectful guest! Hmm kinda creepy that he just implied I'll never leave this place alive... oh well! Nice table setting, sir, compliments to your staff.

Being a respectful guest might not extend to staying in his room as instructed; he's a curious guy and only a stickler for the rules compared to his brother. The girlies aren't a problem for him, because he's still wearing the crucifix, but they might clue him in that Something Is Wrong and lead to Al himself forcing a confrontation with Dracula.

But even if everything goes smoothly, Al would eventually get bored with Dracula's library (if there was anything useful about the Philosopher's Stone in there, Dracula wouldn't be a vampire). At some point, Al would decide this kidnapping is over, and he would provoke the confrontation in trying to leave.

I haven't written any reason for Al to tell Dracula about his fatal weakness, so I'm gonna say Dracula can't actually do much to Al; but unfortunately I don't think Al can harm Dracula either. I don't actually remember what allowed Jonathan to hit him with a shovel but I think it involved special circumstances that do not apply to Al. However, Dracula also can't prevent Al from leaving -- neither thousand foot cliffs nor wolves are much of an obstacle to him. (Well actually, if you physically overpower him and take the armor apart, he can't walk away -- but people almost never think of that, and Dracula probably won't either.)

Which is all to say that Alphonse can survive Castle Dracula, but he probably won't have as much useful intel as Jonathan did. Mind you, he took notes! He just didn't get personal experience with as many of Dracula's powers.

And of course, his goal after this is to track down his brother -- if anyone can figure out how to kill a vampire it's Ed. Where the fuck did he get to, anyways? He'd better not be stranded in Weimar Germany. Al can absolutely walk to Munich from here, but waiting around 25-30 years for Ed to turn up would be a drag.

#also if i do it this way i can tag ramble #which is to say i am NOT sorry for ending on a Conqueror of Shamballa joke #yes it is terrible and no i will never resist #fma #dracula #fanfic #or something #long post #Al could run into the Polycule while looking for Ed. Maybe in London?#but if the Polycule is Vampire Hunting then that means Jonathan's ordeal went down and Al wouldn't have any new info for them. alas #can your fave survive castle dracula?

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machidielontheway · 10 months

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my biggest "what would fix you right now" is sleep schedule. i love sleeping, i love being in my bed, love the feeling of blorbo rotating while comfy in my pillow. i don't mind doing the nightly routine : pee time, brushing teeth [altho this is a recent change !], filling water bottle.

what i don't like and don't manage to do is the Break : stopping the enjoyment - or the avid, compulsory search for enjoyment - and actually closing my laptop. Closing the laptop is cutting up the connection and the safety, comfort of it. connection is : i am not alone. there is people there and i can hear them, listen to them, my room is filled with the sound of people living. i am not lonely. safety is : i am finding joy and am entertained - i am not wasting my life. i do not think of things i yearn to do but lack the energy and courage for. i am fulfilled.

Closing the door and getting out of my own laid spell and having to face reality again is very hard. I do not like it and i avoid it for as long as i can sometimes, even if i am tired and would love to be sleeping. (the reality is : sometimes i am lonely and unfulfilled ; the reality is i haven't been sleeping enough for years to have the emotional energy enough to be able to make concrete steps to change this)

i could say a lot more because this subject branches out back to itself but let's just keep what was the original goal.

i wanted to speak about it to the therapist i saw for the first time a week ago, because as of now sleep is Obstacle n°1 to be resolved in my life. but i didn't really connect with her, and it was a first session so a bit hard to go directly into one specific subject. However i spoke about it to a friend the next day, and she told me how she does it and we did a little brainstorming / our discussion was such to me.

one thing i discovered about myself in the last year is that i have very little perseverance, and if there is - or if i see something as such - an obstacle i will mostly not do the thing blocked by the obstacle. The ideal solution for this is : if you can't make yourself go past the obstacle, either 1) remove the obstacle or 2) change your course. When i was in my last flat the bathroom was some way away from my room and it was old and i didn't like it. I had a hard time brushing my teeth at night and mostly never did it. a temporary solution became "i go to pee super often, let's just brush my teeth each time with water for a few seconds" and that worked quite a bit. the obstacle was going to a place i didn't like with little reward ; the solution was do the thing when you're already in there, when you didn't have a problem to go because you actually wanted to". The problem literally disappeared when i moved flats and 1) had the bathroom directly against my room again and 2) i like the bathroom and don't feel uncomfortable spending time in it. It's a great things to know this kind of things about you, because it's easier to see how to go about solving a problem.

So with my friend as we spoke about it and it finally took a shape, i thought : clearly knowing and agreeing with all those things about "capitalism doesn't give you time so you spite it with a fucked up sleep schedule to get time for you" is not helping you : it's true but you can't change that rn. But the shape of "i don't like when i close the laptop and suddenly i'm back in real life with all my doubts and feelings", that i can manage. i can make the Break less of a break. With my friend i planned two things : 1) my laptop does not go in to the bedroom, and 2) i will put on sound on my phone until i shut off the lights (i dislike going on internet on my phone so no loophole here).

It did work in parts, which is actually great. I DID feel frustrated about not having the laptop, like a real feeling of "something missing / something not in its place", but it was not big enough that i couldn't go through it, which means that i can acclimate myself to it in time ; and it was enough that i didn't feel the break too keenly. Once i was done with my nightly ablutions, i kept listening to the video (music is Not Enough so i listen to Defunctland Fastpass vid) and felt myself falling asleep after ten minutes, which is also good : it's not enough to keep me awake through my tiredness the way i can power through for hours with the laptop (yes i have f.lux), and it's easier to stop and put down because my phone doesn't represent a Door to me the way my laptop does.

Now the thing to work on is that i need to actually do this where i do get in my room at an interesting hour and not just at two am, or it makes me as sleepy but less comfortable. So while a part of a solution is present the big boss is still there : the drive and motivation to do the first step which is "now we will begin". i once thought 'when i will have my new fancy phone where i can put on more than one alarm clock, i'll put some in the evening to create Doors for me to come back to reality and make a choice - i can stay where i am, or i can decide to go to bed". This increase the chance that i manage to go to bed earlier, instead of being kept in the waters of the spell until i see the clock hitting the magic hour where somehow i will accept going to sleep (which in these days is 1:30 AM). However i did NOT put on those alarms even though i've had my new fancy phone since january. which is another mystery to think about : what makes me 'not want' to put them on ? what do i fear ? i was excited about it once, what has changed ? is there another way i can make 'coming back to it' doors that would not be from alarm clock ?

I do like having my struggles put in this form because 1) i like feeling like i'm taking concrete steps toward something, because for so so so long i've been Waiting. besides the "fight or flight" reaction there is the freeze and i'm very good at it. and action is what makes you brain calm down from Fight or Flight. 2) i love analysis (recent discovery through work) ! it's like a treasure map with little adventures you have to follow until you find the treasure. But this also means knowing / searching for how things works, so you can understand why they're not working and find a satisfactory solution or a workaround.

anyway. yeah.

#3615 my life #bold of me to put this on your dash but i don't like readmores for ramblings i'm sorry #did i write this instead of going to sleep ? yes.#but i actually write so rarely about my life even though i sometimes began to write those posts in my head #i think it could be helpful #not as big as saying it out loud (i know a lot of people feel better after writing things #(btw did u see we can use commas in tags now)#but yes writing. acknowledging and being able to come back to it better than it being just in my head #and it's also somehow a time of creation and not consomption so.#i also thought if maybe this could help somebody this would be cool. i've gotten so much useful help thanks to people and posts here #like that miraculous post about sometimes it's not executive dysfunction it's just yourself protecting you very hard but hurting you instea #(the You Have Internal Resistance article)#anyway this is very rambling. and while searching for the name of the article in my Adulting tag i saw another post that said the same thin #i did here but better and clearer #by which i mean i don't know if what i wrote could be as helpful for somebody but we never now #and in any case i wrote it for me.#and also to not go to sleep.#it's defunctland time again good night people

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23meteorstreet · 1 year

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i have so much life shit i need to complain about right now but everything just comes out as a garbled mess

#gonna make a divider here so ppl dont have to read my stupid tag rant if they dont want to--------------------------------------------------#(sorry i can never resist rambling in the tags)--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------#anyway my mom is coming up here for my birthday after i specifically told her to wait & let me get her a flight for mother's day weekend #& she's staying for two fucking weeks #& there's nothing i can do bc she already bought plane tickets #i mean. i was excited for her to come up. but this amount of time is going to drive me insane #bc i already feel guilty that im not going out & meeting people enough (or really at all) & that's gonna be impossible when she's here #bc i'll have to cater to her the entire time #and i know she's just doing this bc she assumes i'm gonna be alone on my birthday (& apparently not have plans for 2 weeks after!!!)#but i like being alone & doing stuff by myself!!!#and ive been feeling guilty abt that too bc i know it's just hurting my ability to make friends which i apparently so desperately need #like ive been trying so hard to find events bc i already feel so ashamed of myself but i have no desire to actually go #even tho i know i need to #i wish i was the kind of person who's good with people instead of being overwhelmed by everything #so i wouldnt have to deal with all this shame & people wouldn't feel like they have to take pity on me #gonna try to be positive about i guess. been having a hard time doing that lately.

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delicatebarness · 16 days

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i think he knows | chapter two

Summary: The reader decides to reach out to a trusted advisor and braves not getting caught.

Warnings: One use of 'Y/N'. One F-Bomb.

Word Count: 1907

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A/N: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I had free time and wanted to write. I'm loving this story so far and I didn't want to wait another week before showing you all it.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes

Time blurred after the days that followed the tense cafeteria encounter. Each morning felt like you had been struggling to keep routine, classes, and emotions grounded. You found that you had stopped reading while walking the hallways, hoping you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see him. His presence continued to linger in your thoughts, a force you could not resist: no matter your efforts.

After confiding in Wanda and Peter about the situation at one of your study nights, they both expressed their opinions on the matter. Wanda straight-up agreed with Sharon, she explained to you that she had spent a few years now seeing how Steve’s protection has made you miss out on typical high school experiences. She didn’t want this one to be another. Peter on the other hand was worried. He spent at least half an hour going through all the rumors her had heard about Bucky, which sounded like they came straight out of a Tudor history book. He said he could understand Steve’s point of view as he also didn’t want to witness his childhood friend potentially hurt. You were grateful to have their help and honesty. Wanda would continue giving you understanding gazes and silent support. And, Peter, well he’s easily distracted, and once his opinion was out, his laughter and energy began again: A very welcomed distraction.

But as the days passed, the unanswered questions about Bucky were tugging at your mind, and you became restless and needed answers. One afternoon, you found yourself standing outside the Robotics Lab door. This is a room you barely went into, it was Peter’s thing, you were more in the Chemistry Club’s lab.

Pushing the door, you were greeted by the school’s smartest math, science, and everything student. He knew everything that could be taught, he also knew everything about everyone. Vision. He looked up from the robot he was tinkering with, with a neutral expression.

“Hey Y/N,” he waved, his voice was smooth and rich, carrying a depth and warmth that captivated any listener. “What can I do for you?”

Hesitating, you looked around the room to ensure you two were alone. You took a moment to search for the right words and emotions, you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you held. “I need your help, Vis,” you admitted, using the shortened version of his name that everyone knew he preferred over the nickname ‘The Vision’. “I know you know about almost everyone in this school, and, I, well, you know I’m not one to gossip,” Vision stared blankly at you as you rambled on. “I need to know more about Bucky Barnes.”

His expression quickly turned, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t press for details, no, instead, he motioned for you to take a seat on the opposite side of his desk. You rushed to take a seat, as he got back to his robot’s mechanisms.

“Bucky Barnes has a reputation,” You nodded in agreement, the information you were already aware of. “He’s a complicated figure,” Vision leaned back in his chair as he wrote you a narrative of Bucky’s childhood and early teens. He painted a picture of Bucky, piecing together fragments of rumors and half-truths along the way. He never seemed to take a side with what and if he believed them. Listening to Vision’s words, you began to realize you do have an understanding of the brooding enigma. He was, after all, just a human making mistakes, flawed as the rest of the student body.

“Thank you so much, Vis,” You exclaimed as you started to set off back into the hallways of Brooklyn High. He might not have told you what was right or wrong, but, you now had an idea of what to expect. Thankfully, he never mentioned any of the rumors Peter had heard about. “Also, Wanda loves red,” You nodded towards the sheet of paper with drawn robot schematics, resting on the desk near them with “For Wanda.” written at the top and a stack of different color paint samples.

With a sigh, you rested your back against the door to the Robotics Lab. It only took a beat before you noticed a group hanging around the lockers down the hallways. Leather. Bucky and his friends. Your mind was fighting itself on what to do next, walking away, or going over to them. Walking the opposite way, they’d never know you were there. Bucky wouldn’t have known. Go over to them, and risk Steve finding out you went against his direct wishes. Not only that, what would you do? Hi, Bucky, how’s your day going? You can’t ask someone like Bucky that. Hi Bucky, sorry my brother pushed you. He’d probably laugh in your face.

While in your head, you hadn’t realized that your feet had made a decision. You were less than a few more steps away from them. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Natasha Romanoff’s voice snapped you back into reality. You suddenly felt small among the group, who were not only two years older than you but also had reputations that made them intimidating, to say the least. Bucky’s gaze flicked up, his eyes meeting yours once again. His lips turned into a smile, you half expected another smirk. It was there just not as evident as his smile. Was it genuine?

“Wait, has Little Miss Sunshine graced me with her presence?” Bucky teased as he straightened his posture, making himself seem just that tad bit taller. The feeling of his friend's eyes watching your every move felt foreign, normally everyone wouldn’t even glance over at you for more than a few seconds. Whatever confidence you had that made you come over, vanished, leaving you feeling embarrassed with flushed cheeks.

“I, um, I just wanted to,” You began to stutter as you gave another look around at his friends, your palms started sweating so much you feared your textbooks would slip right out of them. A sudden feeling of a cold hand against your cheek guiding your face and eyes slowly back to meet his Bucky’s, made your body flinch for a short moment, your mind was no longer flooded after that second. Everything seemed to calm as he rubbed his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“Say hi?” He questioned, finishing your sentence for you though you didn’t know why you came over or how your sentence was going to finish. You whispered a quick ‘Hi.’ back at him as if he had commanded you to say it. He chuckled a “Hi Sunshine,” back at you. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlight of his motorbike, you subconsciously bit your lip. It felt like you stood there for hours, him touching you for the first time while staring into each other’s eyes.

Bucky pushed himself off the locker, leaning in closer to you. “I think you should get going,” His breath sent chills all over your skin, and his thumb never stopped comforting your face. “We don’t need you getting caught now, do we?” You shook your head no slowly as he pulled away from you. Your thoughts couldn’t determine if you were shaking in agreement with him or pleading with him not to let you go. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll be seeing you around.” He promised as he gestured for you to continue your way down the hallway.

Your grip on your textbooks was tightening with one hand. The other, you reached up to feel your cheek where Bucky’s hand had lingered. You turned, giving a quick look behind you toward where Bucky and his friends were still gathered. Blue eyes locked onto yours while he moistened his lip with a flick of his tongue. He was watching your every move.

Hours passed since your self-inflicted encounter with Bucky Barnes. You could still sense the feeling of his hand on your cheek, it sent waves of excitement and fear through your veins. For the first time in your life, you felt like you related to the sort of fan girls you read about that refuse to wash their hands after their favorite celebrity had grazed it. You also worried that all it took was for him to touch your skin for you to become vulnerable. Should that be what happens? Does Sharon feel like that when Steve holds her hand through the hallways? Or, if Wanda’s heart raced this way the one time Vis accidentally brushed his finger over your hand when reaching for a pen?

A soft knock on your bedroom door startled you, waking you from your daydreams. “Lost in thought?” Steve asked, his tone was gentle. It mostly was with you. Wordlessly, you nodded at him. “Need to talk about anything?” He asked with genuine worry.

“Just in my head, school stuff, ya know.” A faint smile appeared as you replied to your brother. Not only did you not want to burden him with your problems, but you most certainly knew you couldn’t with this one.

“I know how that feels, Sis,” His gaze softened, filled with understanding. Of course he did, he was the golden child, and he had a positive reputation to withstand. “It helps me to talk about it, sometimes.”

His words caused a weighted feeling lift from your shoulders, he was still your brother and most trusted peer, and you knew he’d be somewhat of a support during this trying period. You motioned for him to come in, moving homework and study papers out of the way so he could sit at the bottom of your bed.

“It’s just, um, I have this feeling that I can't seem to shake,” you confessed with a sigh. “It feels like there’s so many unanswered questions lingering.” You began picking at a loose thread on one of your throw pillows.

Nodding, Steve rested a hand on your shoulder. “Feelings tend to have a way of sticking with us,” His empathetic tone made you question yourself if you were doing the right thing. “It’s okay to not have it figured out, take your time to process them.”

“Do you ever feel like that?” You questioned, grateful that you did have his support and understanding at that moment, you wanted his guidance more.

“All the time,” He smiled at you while confessing. “That’s why I’m so grateful for Sharon. Her presence, helps me stay grounded. It’s like a constant reminder of what’s important.” This was the first time Steve had given you a glimpse into how he truly felt about Sharon. You started to feel a small sense of reassurance wash over you as you listened.

“Thank you, Stevie,” Your gratitude was sincere as you hugged him around the shoulders. You were still surprised that you managed to wrap your arms around them. “For being here.”

Steve returned the hug, “Anytime.”

With your brother’s words and support, you felt a sense of clarity and strength overcome you. Steve knew what was right, you had to stay away from Bucky. You watched him leave your room, closing the door behind him, you couldn’t have been any more grateful to have a caring, supportive, and protective older brother.

“Thank fuck,” A voice whispered near your open window. While turning towards the sound, a fairly large figure gracefully climbed through. That cigarette and fumes scent which only came from one known source filled your bedroom. “I thought he’d never leave.”

- - - - -

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#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x sister!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader

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rohansregret · 1 year

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prior to that nsfw tyr/odin ramble would u care to write an nsfw drabble dedicated to that ??? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ size diff and all,, morally ambious;;; probably in odin's pov.. pretty please 🙏🙏🙏

delusions

pairing: odin!tyr x gn!reader

description: odin’s been noticing how touchy you’ve been towards him ever since he was ‘rescued’ from svartalfheim, makes sense as you were tyr’s partner. he knows he shouldn’t indulge and politely turn down your advances, but you just look so good, he can’t resist.

warnings/tags: nsfw, odin!tyr, odin’s a bastard, could be seen as dub-con/non-con since you believe odin is really tyr, manipulation, bruises, size difference, biting, based off this post

note: thank you for your request! this is my first god of war work on this blog and i’m pretty satisfied with it. i didn’t write full on sex, but if you want to see that maybe i could write an extended version? lmk! when i posted that odin/tyr ramble i didn’t expect anyone to agree with me, so imagine my surprise when i saw fellow odin fuckers show up 😭 i did struggle a bit with keeping the pov strictly odin, so i did what i could. anyway, thank you again and i hope you enjoy this! i had fun writing it :)

everyone was finishing the last of their dinner when your voice spoke out above the common bickering between brok and sindri. “tyr, could i speak with you in private? that is if you are not required elsewhere.” odin’s temporary golden eyes rose from his empty bowl to lock with your gaze, watching as you expectantly glanced over at kratos.

“no. do as you wish.” said man spoke, his booming voice earning a small smile of thanks before you rose from your wooden chair. “of course, beloved. what do you need?” his much larger hand reached out to slip into yours and he let you gently drag him towards your room that sindri so generously allowed you to use. “i’d like to do this in my room, if that’s alright?” you didn’t wait for a response as you both entered the room. ‘rude’, odin thought. there was a moment of awkward silence before you both took a seat beside each other on the bed far too small to fit someone of tyr’s size.

it didn’t take long for you to initiate the conversation, turning to the side and placing your other hand on the back of odin’s. “i don’t want to sound.. insensitive, when i say this.” your voice stayed smooth, but odin could tell something was bothering you enough for you to not want to say it. which by the way, annoyed him to absolutely no end. he can add this to his never ending list of cons from his experience as ‘tyr’. with a sigh, odin gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “whatever you have to say, i know you mean no harm.” he smiled, “take your time.”

his own words made him want to roll his eyes. time was modest, and he didn’t want to waste his on this moment. though he knew his dear son would waste away to nothing if it was for you. so that’s what he’ll do.. for the mean time, that is.

you brought odin’s hand up to your mouth to press a kiss onto it, holding it to rest lightly on your lips as you thought of your next words. “i know it has been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and there are more important things we need to be worrying about at the moment..” you began to trail off, rambling on and finding words to circle your point. odin sighed and removed his oversized hand from yours, instead placing both of them on either side of your head, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “forgive me for interrupting, but i worry for you. tell me what’s on your mind, let me help.” odin couldn’t help but let himself admire the look on your face. your eyes, slightly wider than usual and your cheeks warm against his foreign palms. he wouldn’t deny your beauty, never has. as much as he hates to admit, one of the very rare things he’s remotely jealous of, was you and how he could never have you.

“okay. okay, i’m sorry.” you closed your eyes and swallowed, holding onto odin’s wrists. “i would like for us to indulge in a little normalcy like once before, spend the night in each others embrace.” eyes locked on odin’s, straying occasionally to observe the face of the lofty god.

‘oh?... oh.’

“oh.. well,” odin began, clearing his throat and surprisingly finding himself stumped. his first instinct was to push you away from him and excuse himself from the room. the look on your face is ultimately what got him. the pure hope mixed with slight embarrassment had his blood boiling in all the right- no, wrong places. this is the last thing odin should be worried about. yet here he is, mind rapidly filling with images of you beneath him, his hands squeezing and groping your body and skin rubbing against skin.

he could feel tyr’s skin heating up, sweat collecting on his forehead and his heart pulsing just a bit faster than usual. “yes, yes i.. i would like that.” his words left his mouth faster than his brain could comprehend, but yet he didn’t feel any regret. he knew this was wrong, he also knew that’s why he was even more aroused by it.

that was all it took for odin to take your chin in his hand and shift forward, “are you sure?” your nod came quick and he suppressed a smug grin at your eagerness.

it wasn’t long for the both of you to get undressed, your bare back now pressed against the soft fur of the bed, odin’s mouth and hands traveling across your neck and torso. getting lost in the moment, he began to squeeze the meat of your thighs and couldn’t help but nip at them, surely creating a few bruises. a squeal of surprise came from your throat and you gazed down at him, eyes sparkling and pupils blown. “tyr- you’ve never done that before,” odin tensed as if he got too carried away, but the sight of your overly reactive and excited body eased his worries. “please, do it again.” your request immediately clouded his brain, just as the sensation of a new bite clouded yours.

maybe he could get used to this after all.

#god of war #god of war ragnarok #how #gowr #odin #odin god of war #odin gowr #odin god of war ragnarok #odin x reader #odin gow x reader #tyr #tyr god of war #tyr god of war ragnarok #tyr x reader #tyr gow x reader #rohansregret #drabble

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dearsnow · 1 year

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AND THE DAM BREAKS (6)

- DULY NOTED: college is hard enough without feelings involved, and you’d like to keep it that way. (Jace, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, & Baela x fem!reader college SMAU)

synopsis ; you finally let aegon into your dorm and your heart.

a/n - things are moving!!! they are going directions definitely!! lol there will be more aegon moments but this is the almost official end of the aegon/reader drama and the start of a new era. love ya <3

Taglist (bolded means I couldn't tag you for some reason): @valeskafics @mightyavngrs @mmmimilan @its-halleys-comet @babyblue-chaos @ghostheartbeat @savagemickey03 @hoe4fiction @cecespizza01 @panelhone @persephonesportal @lovelyliliya @llovelydove @nohesmile @rattheraddestrat @jordanjanellejoy @depressedperson88 @m-indkiller @julczimozart @nupppuff @writervaul-t @m1ndbrand @the-jess-life

You’ve ignored the knocks on your door for as long as physically possible. Every day, usually in the night, someone has been whining at your door, surely upsetting everyone on your floor. You’re sure it’s Aegon. No one else would be up at 4:51 AM, smelling of booze and perfume and sadness.

It’s been maybe two or three weeks since your complete disappearance from society. You claim it was for school, and part of it truly was, but in reality you just can’t face everything. You feel tears watering up in your eyes whenever you try to pick up your phone. Are you really that annoying? School is your priority but your friends will never be any less important to you, and they know that. Most of them know that. Maybe they don’t.

You take a deep breath and open the door.

“Oh my god, finally. Babe, I’ve been so worried about you-“

“Yeah. Worried.” You say, eyebrows raised. “If you’re here to complain about me having goals for myself, just tell me now so I can shut the door.”

He cringes at the venom in your voice. His words must have hit far too close to home. “I promise I won’t, now or ever again. I’m sorry.”

Fuck, he’s sorry? Even you in your annoyed and saddened state can recognize that this is a huge moment for him. He’s the king of not taking responsibility for his actions.

He peeks his head past your arm and into your dorm, and you move to let him in. His eyes are swimming with guilt and exhaustion.

“That’s kind of what I’m here to say. I fucked up. I said stupid and untrue things about you and I really hope you can forgive me, at least someday.” He rambles, his fingers tangling with each other as he sits on your chair. “I just… I feel so complicated with you. It’s stupid but it feels like the world is dead when you’re sad. I said what I said to try and get you to notice me when your head is in the books and all that, but I regret it. It was self-sabotage too, stupid fucking self-sabotage. I’m really sorry.”

A silence falls over the room as you gently sit on your bed, facing him. There’s too much for you to even say. He really doesn’t think of you badly. It was all in your head, all of it. He lied, and for the first time in a long while, his lie was worse than the truth.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, so quiet he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t staring at your lips. “What you said really hurt me, but I appreciate your apology. It means a lot.” He adds on a ‘especially from you’ in his head, knowing you think it but would never let it past your teeth.

He should be happy right now. His eyes should be lighting up and his mouth should be curving into a smile, but all he can think of is how utterly dejected you look. He takes your hands in his.

“Don’t be sad. Not about my lies, princess. There are better things to spend your mental energy on.” You laugh lightly.

“Like what?”

“Like those studies that have been taking up your time lately. Or resisting Jace’s puppy-dog eyes when he tries to get you to go to his latest game, the sporty little freak.” You laugh, your face lighting up a tiny bit, and he laughs, his face lighting up a world brighter. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, a gesture of affection he knows you won’t mind. “You could even spend it on my truths. You know I love you, right?”

“Sure…” you drawl, teasing him a bit.

“No, I’m being serious.” He insists. He climbs onto your bed next to you, hopping from the chair to your mattress like a monkey. A fond feeling sparks in your stomach. “I’m really in love with you. Just ask Baela-“ his eyes widen a bit after saying her name, but he pushes forward, “I’ve never felt this way with a frat girl.”

“Oh, what a high compliment!” You grin. Your eyes show what you can’t say, a mix of confusion and love and a sprinkle of shame.

“I would really love it if you loved me back,” He almost sings, “but you’re tied down with school, I get it. Ugh, school. Get your diploma and get back to me, ‘kay shortcake?” Now he’s the one close to crying. He can’t believe he let it slip, but everything just felt right. The moon illuminated the curve of your lips, his hands were barely clammy (and that’s saying something), and everything was just so perfect. You stare down at your fingers, playing with them while you try to take everything in.

“I will. I would answer now, I swear I would, but I just don’t know. I don’t know what I feel or how to deal with it or who I maybe might feel possible feelings for. Once I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.” You take a deep breath before turning to look at him. “I love you, Aegon. Wether it’s platonic or romantic, the principle won’t change. I hope we can stay friends.”

“Of course we can, even though I’ll be absolutely heartbroken for the next few years.” He plops his head in your lap and you smile down at him. “That’s a joke. Maybe. Let’s get onto happier things right now. While you were moping, Helaena came up with a great idea. Just open your phone and check it out.” He stands, pulling open your drawer and rooting around for a phone that is definitely not in your desk. You snort and pull it out from the crack under your bed.

“It’s been a while with this thing. God, I swear there’s gonna be like forty new updates I have to go through.”

There’s not. As you turn it on, dozens and dozens of sweet messages pop up on your phone’s tiny screen. You scroll through them, a warmth spreading through your body, and the dam breaks.

You sob as Aegon wraps his arms around you, whispering sweet things into your ears.

“It’s okay, baby. We love you. Let it out, yeah?”

He stays, and you cry, and the dam dries up, and you know that he would stay forever if he had to. A part of you wishes he could.

#solar eclipse.#duly noted ; hotd 🗒️#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon the second #aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aegon hotd #hotd fic

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astrum99 · 3 months

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@patronsaintofdemons from original post

*runs at u* *snatches u by the arm* *shaking u shaking u* I GOT U. YOU RE NOW A VICTIM OF MY THOGHTS . DO NOT RESIST.

No joke I woke up yesterday morning at 4am, saw ur tags, and couldn’t get back so sleep for a whole hr bc I got so excited to talk abt whatever funky waves my brain is generating ( I am at peak obsession right now, I am generating enough energy to power a small city))

Sorry if I’m being awfully deranged. I'm not used to being Comprehended and Perceived as an existing entity. Please excuse the part of me that is vibrating so hard I am about to emit light beams from my eyes like some sort of cartoon character. Anyways.

Ultrakill, so far, doesn’t actually have a super complex lore. The story is succinctly simple and tragic. The characters as well. I won't focus on that because my obsession lies in Gabriel. From your tags, it looks like you haven’t gotten deep into the game (yet), so I don’t want to spoil the fun if you ever decide to watch a playthrough of the game, or play the game yourself.

And I can avoid spoilers because, for this post, what I latched onto is not his character arc, but his inherent setting of “an angel”.

“Why are you thinking of an angel”

Well. For starters. I wasn’t thinking about angels at first. I was thinking about his thighs and what he got down there.

Stay with me. The horniness is fading. The poetry is starting. (shaking you)

Click see below.

No? As if you had a choice.

Jokes on you, I lied. This is less of a poetry and way more of an incomprehensible ramble on why Gabriel is irresistible to me. I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

Humans are largely made of storytelling and wonder. A desire to strip back layers and layers until a deep, concise answer is found. Then we move on. The study of magic: biochemistry, aerodynamics, fusion physics. We boil the universe down to the barest essentials, then examine some more. We looked inside ourselves: blood, plasma, enzymes. Until we reach the concept of consciousness and suddenly, we are incapable of going further. Attention turned to the sky: planes and rockets; astronomy and “what happened before the Big Bang?” in a child's voice. And we saw that the stars were moving further away from us, faster too, and we thought "we'd have to keep going."

It is at these ends that things become interesting. Never-ending debates of questions that will never be solved because of our inability to go beyond the limits. Reaching the skybox of the universe and unable to do anything more than to speculate what lies further still.

It is no wonder that the thought of an angel captivates man. If it exists, then its nature of being far outside of our observational capability becomes the ultimate lure for artists and scientists alike.

For example, what form would it take? A question of pure speculation, no different than a child's image of aliens. Brainstorming shapes and curvatures and weight in the three-dimensional space, fruitless and fantastical.

An abstract form, perhaps. So abstract that it becomes a type of cosmic horror or a Lovecraftian horror. The burning of eyes, the melting of mind. To lay eyes on it is to condemn yourself to death. Radioactive elephant's foot. We'd try to see it regardless.

A holy being, perhaps. Formed like a man but spills pure light when cut. Would it even cut? What does it mean if the imperfect blade made from the hands of a lowly man had sliced through its skin? Skin? Does it have skin? Like a salamander? Like a leopard? Can a creature’s skin contain the light of god? …Would it leak like a broken puppet? Does it sometimes hate itself like how some of us hate the silhouette of our shadows?

A man, perhaps. Uncertain if it became an angel because the mold of humankind was filled to the brim with divinity, or if it is divine because the pile of carbon assumed the role of an angel. Does it know? Does it wonder? Does it see man in itself, and itself in man? Does it feel lonely to be separated from its lightless siblings that wander the earth freely and sinfully?

And if it is man, as physical as it can be, how close am I to it? …What makes you sacred? Can I see? Can I touch? Can I study your form as millions of humans studied every inch of their world, concrete and abstract? Do you see me as ants? Or family? Would you grieve for me as I have for the songbird?

If I cut you open, will you hold yourself down for me?

Will you forgive me for desecrating you like so?

I think I would be ok with dying by your hand if it is you: let me trade my sight to see you, let me trade my life to touch you. To know you is to cross the limits of the beasts. Sacrilegious.

… And I don’t think you’d allow me to. It’s not in your character. Another angel perhaps, from another story. But I’m thinking of you. And so I can only think, like ancestors before me, and descendants after me. Of the study of magic, of self, of sky.

Of angels.

Truthfully, I’m not a believer in a higher being, never have been, probably never will; but standing on the boundary between life and death and yearning to know the feeling of an angel’s skin under my fingertips are the closest thing to a prayer I have ever experienced. Passion burns; I tend to the fire.

And it’s so regretful that I will never know (because you are an angel) and I will never know (because you are born of fiction) and I am never supposed to know (because to completely understand something or someone is to remove the wonder and hope and passion - like how life without death is timeless and still).

So, this is a love letter of sorts. Because I can’t be the only one craving to know every crease and crevice of this holy being made wearing the same shell as a creature who roams the earth blindly, bumbling, and mad.

------

By the way, please excuse grammar issues. Both my writing in the original post and this one are messy and not thoroughly edited. I just type my brain words out in one setting (partially because uni is in full swing). Sorry if this is on the too-long side of things. I was 700 words into my take on human storytelling before I went: “wait, I’m going way off topic” haha Hope this version is more palatable!

Also just wanna let you know: I just started posting my writing, so your tags were one of the first few that came in and got me really excited! I’m always so happy to read the tags of people who enjoyed my stuff. Thank you!

#gabriel ultrakill #<- im really sorry for flooding the tag #but this is abt the character #and so far i haven't made a tagging system yet #i'll consider one if i keep writing #sorry!!!#also i love tags i adore them everyone that tag gets a kiss on the cheeks from me (and everyone that dont gets a hug anyways)#im not used to being perceived and I'm so happy yall like my stuff <333 #az thoughts

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kasugas · 8 months

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omg hi @mgs3dickeater tagged me in this top 3 albums I've listened to lately weeeeee

I had to limit this to a single everything everything album because it could've so easily been all everything everything. Buying tickets to see them in Boston has really sparked me listening to them more often again, although I never truly stop listening to them. I'll ramble a little more ABT each album under the cut but as for tagging others, hello and I'm sorry mewchies do this at your own whim. @dogboytits @neververy4 @gribffin @gotenerd

1. Everything Everything's "A Fever Dream" album. First of all I need to say what a pain it is to find good art of this particular album. This is my personal favourite album art of theirs, despite Get to Heaven's iconic look. I just listened to this all the way through last night and I was talking to a friend about how well this album encapsulates the whole vibe post-2016. I laugh that the lead singer says he doesn't consider ee a political band when this album and every single one before it exists. This album is apparently inspired by dance music which I guess explains it's many high energy songs among the tracklist. Personal favourite song on this album has to be "Put me together" the meaning of the song. Augh. I do understand this band isn't for everyone but if you can read the lyrics like a hymnbook alongside the songs playing then you really start to understand the smart lyricism and meaning that makes these songs so significant in my mind.

2. Kiltro's "Creatures of Habit". Songs from this album were my top played in 2022 and for good reason. I don't think I've ever heard something exactly like this band. Their songs really have this forlorn lonely feeling to them but the beat carries you through it. I finally got to order this on vinyl and I'm excitedly waiting for it to arrive now. Favourite song on this album is very hard to choose but I think it goes to "Mi Capitán". As a whistler I can't resist songs that have such a whistleable tune in them.

3. Steely Dan's "Can't Buy a Thrill" album. I understand what Araki was on about naming 5000 things from jojo after Steely Dan. They make such easy listening music it's really been something I listen to a lot while driving since a lot of their songs are long. Favourite song on this album has to be "Only a Fool Would Say That" as I love songs with trivia attached to them and recently I learnt that supposedly this song is a diss track to John Lennon. Based.

#ask game #:) thank you for tagging me friend i had just woke up in a cold sweat and this was a lovely distraction

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cancerian-woman · 1 year

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I posted 6,111 times in 2022

That's 3,355 more posts than 2021!

501 posts created (8%)

5,610 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@taureanluver

@dayas

@noanichols

@maiasclary

@lazyspeedy

I tagged 5,053 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#bonnie bennett - 364 posts

#tvd - 217 posts

#dria rambles - 158 posts

#the originals - 135 posts

#twdg - 135 posts

#writing - 131 posts

#atla - 129 posts

#klaus mikaelson - 121 posts

#the vampire diaries - 120 posts

#black women - 120 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#but then again if it’s not about bonnie i’m not checking in i do wish y’all stop tagging her tag knowing she’s not in the fic at all though

My Top Posts in 2022:

Y’all will like every tvdu ship but get to bonkai and wanna talk about morals

92 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

I only trust Bonnie being written well by Bonnie fans. As for the rest of y’all? You make me nervous.

101 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

The magic of white witches in tvd. Freya slept for a thousand years and woke up super powerful without a struggle to perform a spell or even having some self-loathing due to her history with Dahlia.

As for Davina who faces a lot of similar struggles Bonnie did. But she gets her “fuck you, this my agency moment..”

Meanwhile we had to watch Bonnie physically be in pain when it came to performing harder spells. Not including her dying every season. Every black witch that was in the show eventually had some traumatic death on-screen that was never addressed.

Every time someone likes my older posts/asks I have more to add each time.

115 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

certain tvd fans: oh my god Bonnie deserved so much better it makes me want to cry. let me proceed to write her 4 words of dialogue in my fanfic.

130 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A rough draft of an excerpt that belongs to this au:

“Good morning,” Bonnie whispered, peeping her head out on the back porch. Of course, this is where Klaus would be. Sitting on the deck, listening to the birds chirp while chatting with their daughter. “I was wondering where you two went. You know I hate the silence of a empty room.”

Klaus was rocking an active two-month old Hazel. “Sorry, my love, the littlest witch had awoken and I couldn’t resist. She’s exquisite company.” After easing the infant gently inside her bassinet. Klaus’ sped from the rocking chair and back with Bonnie on his lap.

Klaus could list a heavy amount of things he missed with Hope. All of her firsts went to Rebekah. On and off fighting with Hayley upon Hope’s return. Missing four years of her life from Marcel’s prison. Now, he’s adding onto that time because of the hollow. Those are secrets and anguish from another life that he will hold until he can properly explain it to Bonnie.

“Sometimes I still can’t believe she’s real.” Bonnie replied, resting on Klaus’ torso as she holds Hazel in her arms examining her features as usual. She’d never be this tiny again. Brown skin, just like her mother’s. Green eyes inherited from her great-grandfather on her mother’s side. Maybe, the next will take up after Klaus.

“Yes, I carried her for months. Made plans with you for her nursery. The shopping—but that doesn’t matter! She’s here and perfect. Is it weird that everything I’ve ever done seems insignificant compared to her? I always wanted a full home so I didn’t feel alone.”

“No,” Klaus said, admiring the warmth that filled his body watching Hazel smile and coo back at her mother. “You were always saving the day. That doesn’t mean because you saved the day it gave you joy. Hazel, was and is your choice.”

Now that held some truth. Servant of nature is what a witch was supposed to be. Not everyone could be a Bennett witch even if Bonnie willingly gave her powers up.

“Caroline and Stefan emailed me. They want me to write the real history on Bennett witches for the boarding school.” Bonnie shrugged, lowering Hazel down to her breast to feed. While Klaus tugged her tank-top off her shoulder. “While Alaric is requesting talismans and other Bennett artifacts to show the students.”

“And, you don’t want that at all.” Klaus said, raising a brow. Not that he blamed her. A Bennett grimoire and a vial of blood in the wrong hands suddenly becomes a wild card for a supernatural.

“Absolutely not.” Bonnie agreed, cradling the curly head of her daughter. “I don’t think anyone else is deserving to write my family’s history but me.” She declared. “Giving up Bennett artifacts just sounds like an accident waiting to happen. Pictures exist for a reason.”

Kissing at Bonnie’s temple. “They could make a statue in your honor. I think that is just as fitting.”

“It is, since I’m the reason Mystic Falls isn’t a wiped out town on the map. A statue and plaque should’ve been made when the school was.”

“I could build one for you in our backyard,” Klaus remarks. “Right, in the center.”

“Can we put a raincheck on that statue? There’s a ritual Bennett witches perform after an infant is born. We do it during celestial events. I never had mine but I need Hazel to have hers. She’ll be sheltered by the spirits in all ways.”

Klaus’ eyes go wide for a moment. “I wasn’t aware those occurred. Ayana had four daughters and never practiced those.”

“You didn’t know she did those. It’s really private event. Witches of the past and present attend. The bloodline wants each off-spring prepared. All our daughter has to do is show up and be cute.”

“We can do anything you want.” Klaus agrees. Hope never had a coven of witches to shelter her upon birth and accept her immediately with open arms. If the ritual is performed on Hazel that can restrict the Hallow or anyone else for that matter from chasing after the Bennett’s.

“Our daughter should meet my wolf form.“ Klaus blurts out after.

“I think she’d like that.”

164 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Niceee 😁.

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call-me-copycat · 1 year

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Your oc Sora Tsuneyoshi stood out the most to me because omg, I am SUCH a hypochondriac and it actually ruins my life. It's the worst thing in the world, but people don't take it seriously. So to see your oc have this problem just makes me so overjoyed!

With their quirk, can they actually cure a disease assuming they know everything about it? I know you said they can control them, but is it permanent? So let's say for example, someone has a chronic illness. Let's take Asthma maybe, or heart disease. Could Sora cure these things? Or just lessen their effects? I'm so genuinely curious on this oc haha.

Do you ship them with anyone? I have 3 ocs who I ship with different mha characters, I know shipping isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I was just interested in knowing! Honestly I'd wanna know any of your oc x canon or even oc x oc ships, you're very good at world building and character creation from what I can see.

I'm the one who sent the snowflake ask so I'll go ahead and give myself a little anon name bc I'm too shy to come off anon for now :,) I'll be 🧼 soap anon if that isn't already taken on your page !

Thank you for asking, I'm always happy to answer! A funny thing I might want to mention is Sora's name always stuck in my head, so even if I forget some other characters names, for some reason their name will stick. (ㅎ.ㅎ )

And you're the first anon to choose a theme on my blog! Thank you! I'm going to create a tag for any anons that choose a character or emoji, so you'll be the first ໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১

And I'm glad you were able to relate to my character, I myself (while not a hypochondriac) am a sort of germphobe, but I do have my moments where I freak out and think I'm going to die over something small.

Also, I'm AceAro, so I never really thought about shipping before since romance isn't always my ideal situation, but I'm not against it at all! If anyone were to ship my characters with each other or with an MHA character, I'd totally allow it since they're most likely just having fun (minus the kids, that might get a little weird).

That being said, I haven't thought about how far their quirk can go into detail, as I've been focusing on the other characters backgrounds, so it was left as a sort of template. I actually came up with the drawbacks and limitations of their quirk very recently, so if you have an idea or just want to add something small then feel to to tell me!

Also, I'm going to get rather excited about their quirk, so I'm sorry if I ramble! I'm just a huge biology/biotech nerd ＼_(-ロдロ-)

- Quirk:

Disease manipulation: The ability to control disease inside or outside of a person/animal. Can control movement, spread, division, and others.

✧*̣̩⋆̩☽ Drawbacks / Limits ✧*̣̩⋆̩☽

Physical strain: The ability to control diseases takes a physical toll on their body, causing them to become exhausted or even collapse after using their power too much.

Limited control: Sora can only control diseases to a certain extent. They cannot create new diseases or completely eradicate existing ones.

Moral and ethical considerations: The ability to manipulate diseases can be seen as unethical or even evil, especially if used to harm others.

Unintended consequences: Sora's actions may have unintended consequences, such as accidentally creating a superbug or virus that is resistant to all known treatments.

Difficulty with non-living surfaces: Sora may have difficulty manipulating diseases on non-living surfaces, such as objects or clothing.

Inability to control all diseases: Some diseases may be resistant to Sora's quirk, making it difficult or impossible to control them.

Sora's quirk is highly dependent on their own immune system; if they get sick or injured, their quirk weakens or disappears altogether temporarily.

They experience intense pain and discomfort whenever they manipulate diseases past their limit, making it difficult to use their quirk for extended periods of time.

Sora can only control one disease at a time, and must fully focus their attention on it to maintain control. If their attention is split their quirk's effect can lose strength.

Sora's quirk can be disrupted or negated by various medical treatments or procedures, such as vaccines, antibiotics, or chemotherapy. It all depends on the context.

Their quirk is heavily influenced by their emotional state; if they become stressed or anxious, their ability may become erratic or uncontrollable. This is why they're working on controlling their hypochondriac tendencies, because they can't use their quirk very much because of it.

Sora is unable to control certain types of diseases, such as those caused by genetic disorders or environmental factors.

Their quirk can be dangerous or even lethal if used improperly, and they must exercise extreme caution and restraint when manipulating disease

Sora's ability to control a disease is limited by the pathogen's replication rate. If the pathogen replicates too quickly, they may be unable to keep up with its spread and control it.

Sora's quirk can only manipulate diseases that are currently in their active phase; they cannot control latent or dormant infections.

Their quirk has a limited effect on diseases that have already caused irreversible damage to the body, such as chronic conditions or organ failure. They can only control the diseases, they can't reverse anything the diseases might've done.

Sora's quirk can only be effective against diseases that are currently recognized by modern medicine, and may not work against newly emerging pathogens or rare diseases. However, if they have a steady knowledge of any be disease, they can control it better. Then again, if there's an already established disease that they happen to know little too nothing about, they can't control it at all, or at least will struggle in an attempt.

Their quirk may have unintended consequences, such as creating drug-resistant strains of a disease or inadvertently spreading the disease to others.

｡o♡o｡Uses and Benefits ｡o♡o｡

Quick Explanation: Since Sora's quirk has so many limitations and risks, they normally only use it when absolutely needed, or if there's minimal risk involved. Since they're a well educated medic, they have other alternative methods of treatment.

In emergency situations where traditional medical treatment is unavailable, Sora could use their quirk to control the spread of infectious diseases within a patient's body, potentially preventing the disease from becoming fatal.

They could use their quirk to manipulate diseases in laboratory settings, allowing for more targeted research and development of vaccines and treatments for infectious diseases

In situations where quarantine is necessary, Sora could use their quirk to control the spread of a disease within a confined space, potentially limiting the number of people who become infected.

They could use their quirk to manipulate diseases as a form of biocontrol, targeting pests or invasive species that are causing harm to ecosystems or agricultural crops.

In situations where traditional treatments have failed, they could use their quirk to manipulate the disease within a patient's body as a last resort, potentially saving their life.

Sora could use their quirk to manipulate diseases as a means of tracking the spread and transmission of infectious diseases, potentially providing valuable data for epidemiological studies.

They could use their quirk to manipulate diseases to provide symptomatic relief for patients, such as reducing inflammation or fever in cases where traditional treatments are unavailable or ineffective.

•°•Exceptions•°•

If there is a new disease, they naturally wouldn't know much about it. But if they do, it wouldn't matter if it was new or not, they'd still be able to use their quirk on it

They cannot completely eradicate a disease, they can only control it. There is a loophole, though. Say Sora is trying to help a cancer patient. For those that don't know, cancer cells are normal human cells that mutated and went uncontrolled. Since they can control disease how they wish with enough information on it, they could force the cancerous cells to undergo apoptosis (programmed cell death). Or they could mess with the diseased cells homeostasis or osmotic pressure, and make them burst or crumple inwards. Or they could do the opposite and make sick cells healthy again.

If there overall isn't much data on a disease and they happen to know the small amount that was discovered, they'd still not be able to do anything, since they need a vast understanding of the disease.

They're quirk greatly ties with their mental knowledge and state

To answer your questions, say there's a kid with asthma (like you asked). They can only control the disease, but not the damage already done. If they know a lot about asthma, they could prevent it while the person is near them so the patient can undergo treatment, or thi could prevent it from getting worse if the patient wasn't going to get treatment at the time (with the wide world of quirks, I'd imagine there's going to be numerous medical advancements and techniques)

•*¨*•.¸¸♡•*¨*•.¸¸♡•*¨*•.¸¸♡•*¨*•.¸¸♡•*¨*•.¸¸♡•*¨

Overall, I'm glad that my character was able to make you so happy! I never thought anything I could do would have that effect (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

I'm sorry to hear about your hypochondriac issues, but since I don't have any experience with it I'd be glad if you offered some insight as to what's it's like since I'd like to write Sora's character realistically. ( ˙˘˙* )

If you have anymore questions, feedback, or suggestions, please don't hesitate to send in another ask! I always look forward to seeing anything in my inbox, really (⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)

I'm thinking about drawing them more often when I have the energy. If I do, I could let you know! If you want to know anything else about Sora or if I post something about them, I could always tag it with your emoji, your choice!

Sorry if that was long, I got a little excited (⁠─⁠.⁠─⁠|⁠|⁠）

Please have a lovely day, and don't hesitate to submit any thoughts! Thank you so much!

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　( ・ω・)

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┃♡ありがとう♡ ┃

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#🧼 anon #oc stuff #original character

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bombsonboard · 3 years

Text

Your Name.

gif from @patel-dev

summary: Bucky doesn’t like to leave his room at the tower. And he doesn’t know who you are yet. But paths always cross.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

word count: 1.2k

tags: mentions of blood, wounds and bullets, mentions of trauma and nightmares, all that good Bucky stuff

A/N: Who can resist a good wound wrapping / bonding sesh? Not me.

*****

Bucky Barnes didn’t know your name.

He only ever saw you from a distance, a little spec helping an injured Rhodey or maybe Wanda off the quinjet after a botched mission. The back of your head became familiar too, hurrying down the hallway away from him, on its way to something infinitely more interesting than the old guy down the hall.

It’s not like you were the one evading him, you were just different people. You actually left your room during daylight hours and Bucky was unintentionally convincing the tower that he was nocturnal...and maybe an actual vampire. That’s what Clint said.

He knew you had a name, at least. The first syllable was stored in the very back of his head collecting cobwebs and dust, kept just in case you ever got in his way crossed paths.

And as obnoxious fate would have it, you did.

Sleep avoided him like the plague most nights, unless he was literally falling at the seams enough to let his bad dreams smother him for a couple hours, then it was wake up in a suffocating sweat and lie there in his pathetic misery.

After another one of those dime a dozen nightmares, Bucky let out an earth-shattering sigh, threw on sweatpants and some avengers embroidered white vest from his floor and slipped out of his room at 3 am, intent on making a punching bag his late night victim.

Past the common room, and past the kitchen...the lights were on.

Not the big blaring lights, just the LEDs from the kitchen counter, keeping it still a little dim, subtle and secretive. Curiosity crept up on him, nipping at his heels and urging him to follow his instincts.

A couple more steps and there you were. Hunched over the table, the barely there light highlighting you like some kind of apparition to tired eyes, so Bucky rubs his and notices the large tweezers..and the blood.

“Oh, for fucks-”

“What are you doing?”

Your head snapped towards the sudden voice, annoyed that you didn’t know someone was there in the first place.

The realisation it was Bucky was met with an aftertaste of caution, you didn’t know him. You had heard what he was capable of. But he was also Steve’s best friend, it seemed all so tangled. He was achingly handsome though, that was surprisingly easy to understand.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Bucky had his own inward crisis, he had never been this close to you before and, well, he had just realised you were pretty.

That might be a problem. He choked down the thought and stepped further into the light, eyes now trailed to the drooling hole that punctured your upper arm.

“You know we have nurses for that.” It was more a statement than a question, pointing out your own ridiculousness.

“Yeah, yes. Just didn’t want to disturb people so late.” You focus your attention back to trying to pry the bullet from out of your body. Where it was supposed to be.

“Which is clearly going super well, with you brooding over- agh fuck!”

The tweezer slipped again, and every nerve screamed at you. Why couldn’t they have shot you in your less dominant arm? Some people.

You didn’t realise how close Bucky had gotten, only looking up when you felt his flesh hand pull the tweezers from your own, scarily gentle.

“Stop.”

“No, it's alright, I can do it. Natasha showed me how and I’m not-”

The dragging of the chair next to you pulls you from your ramble and every next thought is contaminated by the words ‘Bucky’ and ‘hands’.

Your curious eyes flick down to his decidedly not flesh hand resting on your wrist. You didn’t mean to stare but the way the gold shimmered in the low light, they looked like veins, it looked living.

“How’d you get it?”

It took a single shared glance, him with the tweezers in his hand to realise he was trying to distract you.

“Uh, went on a solo mission couple days ago, supposed to be a simple extraction. My first one, all alone” You winced, he was being gentle but it couldn’t be helped.

Bucky simply paused, adjusted the cool vibranium keeping your arm in place and went back to work.

“Was supposed to be back earlier today but there were...complications. Someone tried to escape and...I got them back but not without, y’know, getting a bullet in my arm...Hence me now sitting in the kitchen at 3 in the morning, cuz I was too worried about waking anyone up, so-”

There was a metallic clunk on the table and Bucky’s already reaching for the bandages beside you. This time you do stare, at his furrowed brows and five o'clock shadow with that jawline.

“Sorry” he lets out a mumble when he notices your look and loosens the grip of the vibranium arm.

Oh fuck, you didn’t mean for that to happen. But you weren’t quite sure how to say ‘sorry, I was just admiring how hot you are, not scared of your metal arm, just how you make me forget every single word ever.’

He’s already getting up to put things away. So, you just change the subject.

“I don’t see you around much, you’re Bucky...Barnes, right?” Of course you already knew that but, it was better late than never for a proper introduction.

He nods “Just Bucky”. He shoved his hands in his pockets, you noticed he looked a little hesitant, eyes avoiding yours and looking towards the exit.

Ah.

“You don’t know my name do you?”

Bucky lets out a breath, followed by the hint of an awkward smile. He felt caught, his recent antisocial tendencies finally backed into a corner.

“No.” He admitted simply.

“It’s okay” You gently reassure him “You don’t need to know it so why would you?”

That felt a little edged and he winced, it was fair.

“Because I should. It’s polite. And kind.” He sounded like his mother.

“Why are you up so late?...early?” You stood from the chair, inspecting his handiwork

Oh. He thought you were going to-....never-mind, then.

“Can’t sleep.”

The admission was short and blunt and you knew not to push, in a tower full of every type of trauma under the sun, you got it.

You realise he’s looking at you, almost expecting you to say something.

“Well, i’m sorry I woke you up, Bucky”

“I was going to the gym anyway.” He half smiles.

“Oh, well, have fun.” You ducked your head and walked past him.

“Hang on.”

You turned. Probably too quickly.

“You didn’t tell me your name”

You didn’t. Hmm. Maybe you could use that.

“You didn’t ask.”

“Well, I'm asking now.”

Your eyes go wide and catch a glimmer in his, a hint of who he was past all of the hard, muscley, exterior.

“If that's how you ask questions, Bucky Barnes, I pity the poor soul who gives you an answer”

His mouth drops, emptied of retorts, and it was getting harder to ignore the way his cheeks heated up at the smirk on your face.

“Thanks for the bullet removal and... I hope I see you around.”

And you disappeared into the dark corridor and Bucky was left standing in the kitchen, he coughed and collected himself, unable to brush the thought of you from his head.

Bucky Barnes had a new mission. Know your name.

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #your name #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #clara writes

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star-archer · 2 years

Text

Phone Tag

Summary: You keep playing phone tag with your hero-turned-fugitive lover. When you find yourself working the same mission in the same place, can your paths cross and bring you together once more?

Pairing: post-CA:CW!Steve x Agent!reader

Word Count: 3175

Warnings: brief cursing, brief mention of violence, some more melancholy (I can’t resist the angst, you guys)

A/N: This is my second submission for @pellucid-constellations love letter writing challenge. (Read my Bucky fic here.) I really hope you love it! Post Civil War, Steve’s on the run and hard to pin down. Thanks so much for reading!

⍟⍟⍟

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, distracting you from the very exhausting briefing presented at the front of the conference table. Something about Hydra, always something about Hydra, and after the year you’ve had, you were ready for a bit of a break. You pulled your phone out to glance at the screen, and felt that warm, familiar kick of giddy excitement at the name on the Caller I.D. Him.

“Something important, Agent?” Your superior halted his presentation with a frustrated sigh, and you silenced the buzz of your phone and re-pocketed it.

“Not at all, sorry, sir.” You grinned.

You loved sending Him to voicemail. Him being Captain Steve Rogers, known hero-turned-fugitive, secret lover to yours truly. He hated being sent to voicemail, always rambled awkwardly until someone, usually Natasha, told him to hang up already, her voice a cackle from the background. But his ramblings were honest, more honest than his phone calls, even at the latest hours of the night when he had you to himself. He was softer then, almost more shy. He could be honest when he knew you’d react and respond at a later time.

So you often intentionally silenced his call, opting instead to play phone tag from across timezones. He was never in the same place twice, and neither were you anymore. Maybe if you’d bother to answer, the two of you could meet up, tag-team a Hydra mission and spend the night wrapped up in his arms like he’d always promised. But maybe that scared you more than you’d admit, so for now, phone tag was the name of the game.

You exited the conference room a half hour later with a stack of manila folders, a recon mission in the Balkans, and a lower level agent chattering your ear off. It seemed fairly self explanatory, in-and-out. Your agency was making a bigger deal of it than it probably was, and you were waltzing down winding corridors with a smug look on your face knowing what was waiting in your back pocket.

—

Your bags were already packed, and you were on a flight Eastward before you could stop for a breather, however, and it was a good few hours before you got time alone again. Throughout the flight, beyond the chatter of your teammates, you looked at the voicemail notification. And, as the you chased the sun to rise again, you unlocked a hotel door room with a keycard and collapsed onto zillion thread count sheets, finally a moment’s peace to sit and listen.

You tapped the notification with your thumb and pressed the phone to your ear, allowing your eyes to slip closed with exhaustion and jet lag as you listened to the dulcet tones of that man’s sweet voice.

“Hey, it’s me… Steve. Think I’ll ever actually talk to you on the damn phone?” He chuckled. “Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know I’m alive, and I’m thinking about you. I miss you like crazy. How long has it been? Three months? Four? Jesus. War didn’t even feel this long.”

He let out a deep sigh, and you imagined him falling back onto the comfort of his own soft bed, somewhere safe, somewhere warm.

“Okay that’s dramatic. War sucked. But this sucks too. I just want to see you.”

Your stomach ached for him. It had been a while, five months actually, since you last lay your fingers upon that chest cut from marble, since you’d last snuck a kiss between headstones in a Cleveland cemetery. You’d found a few Russian operatives, and Natasha had made the set up. Only a handful of moments, lost like the fireflies between dancing tree limbs, but it had been worth it to feel his arms around you again, his fingertips through your hair and yours clenching the rigid kevlar of his suit.

“I’m in Greece, I think. Somewhere in the Balkans. Hydra mission. Sam said it’s worth looking into, so it’s worth looking into. Don’t worry, we’re being careful.”

You sat upright in your bed, nearly dropping your phone to the pillow below, and you scrambled. There were several seconds left of the call, several before someone eventually cut him off, but you’d listen later. Frantic, you grappled the buttons, punching in his contact to return the call.

Ring. Ring. Ring. You glanced at the bedside table. It was nearing 4AM. If he was there, now, he’d be asleep, or out on the mission.

“Hey, you’ve reached Steve. Leave a message.”

You sighed out a laugh, pushing off from the covers to pace, barbered carpet scratching your aching feet. “Hey, it’s me. I’m in the Balkans. I’m on that mission. I’m annoyed that your phone doesn’t have the option for texting, and I’m even more annoyed that you didn’t wake up to answer my call. It’s 4AM, you’re a hundred. Shouldn’t you be on your morning run? Anyway, call me back immediately. I want to see you. I’m at the…” You read off the stationery on the side table. “Room 704. I’ll be here until noon. Call me back.”

You clutched your phone into your hand and peered through the peep hole of the room, as if he’d listened and appeared like a magician outside your door. No such luck. You pushed off from the door and found the window. The curtain opened to a stunning cliffside view, the sea miles beyond, a vast stretch of nothingness. Just the heavy lids of your eyes, and the panic in your chest that this may just be another missed opportunity.

You rolled out of your travel clothes and brushed your teeth, staring at your phone on the countertop. And then you made your way back to the too-soft bedding for an expertly timed nap.

—

The hot sun fanned your cheeks, undeterred by the cabana umbrella and the ice melting in its glass atop your bistro table. You covered your eyes with a flattened hand, which provided some added shade, but your upper lip continued to bead with brine. Your targets talked a handful of feet away, at their own table, ritzy in linens and rings that clanked when they shook hands.

You’d poured over your book for hours, never reading a word, half-focused on the cell phone beside you, half on the tabletop beneath the Hydra-elite, under which you’d planted a listening device at the beginning of your dip into the pool. You maintained to face away from them, the clear in-ear bugged into your right hand side. They spoke in thick accents, in a language you’d wished you’d bothered to learn more of. You caught the occasion phrase, but knew the recording headed back to your own base in the States would be translated as necessary. You were only there to retrieve the information.

Kids played in the pool nearby, encouraged by their au pair while Mummy got a tan, and you found your focus zero in on them as the third child, a bit older, walked back outside from the restroom. He was lanky, in that awkward phase, and wet hair was beginning to dry in curls around his ears. He wore a white towel, emblazoned with the resorts’ logo, and he brought his hands to his chest to begin to sign.

You recognized it immediately as ASL, one of the few language that had stuck in your training. Your heart trilled with delight as the boy teased his siblings, and then sunk with panic as he turned to face you. He pointed to the device in your ear and you realized the men near you silenced.

“You speak ASL?” The boy signed, and you smiled and nodded, setting your book face-down on the table beside you. You could feel eyes on you from the nearby table.

The boy grinned and pointed at the doors. Then, he signed, roughly, “A big man inside paid me to tell you he’s here.”

Your heart rattled in your chest, and you tried to chuckle away the chill. “A big man?” You signed back, and the boy nodded. With a deep breath, you thanked him. The boy turned and went back to his family, and you made about gathering your things, though the adrenaline of an incoming encounter coursed through you.

Seemingly satisfied by the interaction, the men nearby started their conversation back up, softer than before, a low rumble in your ear, and you glanced their direction through your sunglasses as you stood from your table, flashing a polite smile as one of them caught your gaze and quickly looked away. You left your book, where the pages had already begun to soak in condensation from your glass, and the towel you’d been laying on.

The air conditioner instantly rocked your skin in gooseflesh, nearly freezing the bits of you pooling with sweat, and you let out an exhale the moment you rounded the corner and out of sight of the pool. The secondary lobby area was vast, high ceilings and guests moseying between pillars, and you ducked behind one and removed the throwing star that attached the bits of your sarong to each other. You tucked your knuckles around the two points and prepared for a punch.

At least, you were prepared until a dark hand came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around your wrist. You maneuvered around them, tried to headbutt, but your assailant ducked out of the way with a startled, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy, tiger!”

Sam Wilson grinned back at you, all white teeth and perfect warmth. He ducked his head, waiting for another attack, but instead you put your finger to your lips to silence him.

Then, you put your hand to your in-ear and mumbled, “For the record, I’m using the restroom.” And heard the soft beep of the system shutting off.

Sam waited expectantly, eyebrows raised, and arms outstretched, and you sunk into his embrace. He smelled of coconut and sweat and Sam, and you could have sobbed at the rumble of his chuckle against your cheek. ”How you been?”

You pulled away with a nod, and you couldn’t help but scan the crowd over his shoulder. With every strange face came the twinge of heartache, the twinge of almost-was, of hope. “Good,” you relaxed your shoulders. “You?”

Sam gave you a knowing smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, you don’t care about me.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “Of course I do.”

He nodded to his right, and you glanced to see the cracked door to a laundry room. The black plaque restricted access to anyone who wasn’t an employee, and your stomach flipped three or four times, imagining what could be just beyond.

“I’ve got eyes on the Hydra guys,” Sam smiled. “I’ll give you guys, what? 7 minutes?”

You shot Sam a look, but couldn’t help the smile that ached at the corners of your mouth. The wingman winked, and stepped aside to grant you access. The linoleum felt cold under your trembling fingers, and you raked them against the surface before pushing. The heavy door swung open just enough for you to slip inside, and you heard it latch behind you.

The room was white, sterile, full of the tumble of several washers and dryers doing their daily turn down services. Washing machines to the left, dryers to the right, and directly dead center, five machines down, leaning against a cart full of white sheets, was Captain America himself. Him.

He pushed off from the cart to stand, awkward, sheepish, hardly recognizable under a growing mop of hair and a full, dark beard.

“Have you always been that tall?” You cocked an eyebrow, the tone of your voice much braver than you felt.

He sucked in his cheeks and shook his head.

The two of you took slow steps toward one another, a scrape of rubber against tiled floors. You fought back the grin threatening to form, and he swung his arm until you were almost at arm’s length, and then he waited for you to take his grasp, and he pulled you in.

He was bigger than you’d remembered, a bear of a man that lumbered his frame around yours, all biceps and pectorals and hair. You raked at the length at his neck and the sides of his face, and he groaned into your neck, and you melted into him as though he were a sponge and you the popsicle in the hot Balkan sunlight.

“Did you get my voicemail?” He asked, knees bent to prop both of you against the only washing machine out of service.

You laughed at that, pressing your lips to his cheek, wherever you could find purchase without a mouthful of hair. The wrinkles at his eyes crinkled, and you kissed them before pulling away to look at him, really look at him, without all the pixels messing up the perfection of it all.

There were greens in his blue eyes, and you saw your admiration mirrored in his own gaze. Both of you laughed, realizing you were doing the same thing, observing one another, being present in the moment, soaking it in. His cheekbones remained high, unaging, and the fur around his lips sheltered the strength of his jaw and softened his fingers. You ran your fingers through it like the coat of a Labrador, and he pursed his lips into the affectionate gesture.

“You like it?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you pursed your own.

He chuckled, but you watched his eyes darken as his gaze found your lips. He licked his own, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose. You smiled and let you eyes flutter closed, and you sighed as he closed the distance with a kiss.

God, you’d missed that, the way he just gave in. Like every kiss might be his last. It was the gentle intensity of it all, the way he held you around the middle, a large hand reaching to cup your neck and face, thumb circling your cheekbone. It was the rise and fall of his shoulders as he leaned into it, deepened it. It was the press of the small of your back until your abdomens found one another, his carved from marble against your own soft edges.

His beard was the only thing you hadn’t remembered, bristly and soft all at once. It tickled beneath your nose and in the crevice of your lip and chin, but you didn’t mind. It smelled of him, and you couldn’t get enough. When he pulled away to breathe, you dove back in for more, hitting beard when he ducked for a laugh.

“I missed you.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, and his large fingers tucked themselves under your sarong, a graze of skin against your own that sent your back arching.

“I missed you,” you spoke through gritted teeth, clawing at the collar of his civilian shirt. You hadn’t noticed the silky fabric until now, his best attempt at a disguise.

“I don’t have any time,” he said, and you looked up from the navy fabric to see his features fall.

You released his collar and flattened the creases against his collar bone. “If I got injured on this mission, they’d give me a vacation.” You offered it as a ridiculous solution, something both of you knew wouldn’t happen. They’d be suspicious if you got hurt. They’d go looking for him.

“Soon,” he bonked his forehead to yours. “Okay? I promise we can be together soon. I’ll have Nat plan something longer than happenstance.”

You nodded against him, feeling the emotion well. Voicemails were easier. Voicemails didn’t disappoint. The pain of feeling him under your fingertips, of breathing him in, was too much. It wasn’t fair. A soft knock from the doorway beat into your skull, your clenched jaw, your tightened fists. You pushed off from Steve, and his hold on you faltered.

His hand slipped into yours, fingers intertwined, and you led him past the dryers to the door.

“Hey,” he whispered with a gentle tug. You turned to face him, and he leant in for another Earth shattering, knee-weakening kiss. This man, this fugitive, the bane of your existence and the reason you breathe, a sponge to mop you heart that had spilled all over the tile floor.

—

He left you with several mumbled promises and a sad smile. Sam offered the same look of regret, a wave goodbye from across the lobby. You went one way as they went the other. Your mission wrapped up, bad guys on their merry way, information obtained. But the rest of the day, packing your things, the long flight home, it all took a backseat to the veil of heartbreak that lay overhead, the fear sinking into your bones that you’d never be able to be with him, never be able to touch him or kiss him for longer than a moment in time.

You deplaned to more chatter, congratulations on good work. You slipped between coworkers, ordered a ride share home. You unlocked your apartment, did a routine check for intruders, heated up a bag of rice on the stove top, pretended to eat it. Too aching to care.

You showered the sunscreen from exhausted limbs, scrubbed the makeup from your face, rinsing yourself of any essence of him, anything that could have seeped into your skin, and you tiptoed into pajamas and curled yourself under your covers. Relief didn’t find you until you heard the familiar ding of a notification. You scrambled for your phone, discarded on your nightstand the moment you’d gotten home.

1 Voicemail from Him.

You clicked play and laid back against your pillow to hear the low tenor of his voice.

“Hey, it’s me. We just landed in Wakanda. Snuck off to find Buck so I thought I’d call. I’d love to show you this place some day. It reminds me of you. Warm. Beautiful.” He took a pause, his voice low, like he’d been afraid of getting caught. “It was good seeing you today. You looked amazing. Did I mention that? You did. You looked incredible.”

You smiled at his rambling. You missed his rambling.

“I love you.”

You stopped breathing. Three words. You hadn’t said them, not to each other, not yet. You felt them, of course you felt them, but saying them aloud made them real, gave them weight, made the distance hurt more.

“I do. I love you. And I was too chicken shit to say it earlier, but I’ve been thinking it for ages. Probably since the day I met you. I love you.”

You sat upright in your bed. There were several seconds left of the call, several before someone eventually cut him off, but you’d listen later. Frantic, you grappled the buttons, punching in his contact to return the call.

Ring. Ring. Ring. You glanced at the bedside table. It was nearing 4AM.

“Hey,” he answered. There was a smile in his voice.

“I caught you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

He laughed. “Yeah, you did.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #post ca:cw #steve rogers fic #oneshot #pellucid constellations #love letters writing challenge #loveletterswritingchallenge

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thesolferino · 3 years

Text

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.”

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?”

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity.

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.”

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?”

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him.

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task.

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones.

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back.

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone.

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind.

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks.

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you.

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation.

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters.

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained.

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.”

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.”

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.”

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling.

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened.

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message.

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fluff #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Milkshakes

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries. Warnings: a tad angsty but much fluff A/N: This is actually one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

Of course it had to be during your lunch break that a supervillain attacked the city. Of course today you decided to go out to eat instead of packing something. And, of course you had to be walking by the building right as it crumbled. You started praying to any god that there may be to save you from being crushed. Though, you hadn’t actually expected one to save you.

In the moments before you would have been flattened, Loki put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. Raising his free hand, a glimmering green force field appeared around you. The falling matter bounced off of it and landed around you, the shield offering strong protection. Of course you were thankful to be rescued, but did have to be Loki? You knew he was supposedly reformed, but so many news outlets still ran stories about how he was dangerous. A ticking time bomb. You’d never quite formed an opinion on him, and it was causing great conflict in you now. On the one hand, he looked very intimidating from this close, what with his impressive stature and horned helmet and all. But on the other, he was saving you from the actual super villain destroying the city. Perhaps if there wasn’t so much going on, you could think more clearly. Alas, your thoughts were a messy, confused jumble, leaving you fearful of the super-powered god in front of you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his deep, smooth accent as the shield shimmered away into nothing. The god brought his arm to shield your eyes from the small pieces of debris still falling, the other one still around your waist in a protective manner. “Are you injured at all?

“I, um, uh, I- I,” you stammered, backing up. “Mhm. All good. Uhhh, thanks.”

You were certain you must be the most awkward person in history, but instead of making fun of you, Loki just looked sad. Even with the hurt behind his eyes, his arms shot out to catch you when you stumbled over the wreckage. He guided you away from the obstacles to a place where you could walk unhindered. He moved back from you as soon as he’d finished escorting you.

“You are welcome,” he finally responded. “I am sorry for frightening you. You should get somewhere safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left to rejoin the battle. You started retreating from the scene, steering as clear of any large structures as you could, cursing yourself the whole time. Loki had saved you, and you’d been afraid of him. What kind of nonsense was that? And you were certain he got that kind of reaction all the time, based on the way he’d looked at you and realized your bumbling actions were a result of fear. Fear of him after he’d so carefully and gently saved you.

You felt stupid and petty as you joined a throng of people being guided away from the scene. After nearly two years of working to protect the city, Loki should have gotten more praise and love than he did. You realized it now, only moments too late. Someone should tell him he was appreciated, a hero. And if no one else was going to do it, you resolved to do it yourself.

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

The meeting was dreadfully boring, but someone had to go. Seeing as all the other Avengers were busy, that someone was Loki. Besides, Stark had told him it would be good for his image to head up the restoration of the city this time round. The committee and resources were all a part of Stark Industries, of course, so Loki felt there should be some employee to take care of it instead of him. But whatever, he’d been roped into it now, and he figured that there was some merit to what Tony has said about his reputation.

Luckily, with a week having passed since the battle, great headway had been made with the repairs, and the meeting was much shorter than expected. Itching to get outside, Loki headed to the main doors.

“You don’t understand,” Loki heard someone say to the receptionist as he approached the front desk. “He saved me the other day. I have to thank him. Please?”

Loki just rolled his eyes as he pushed through the turnstile. He couldn’t even begin to count how many fans had tried this tactic to meet their favorite Avengers. Granted, no one had ever tried to see him, but he was coming to terms with it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder which of his colleagues you were trying to get through to see. Perhaps Steve, or maybe even Thor. Loki was so lost in thought it barely even registered when the voice switched from pleading with the receptionist to calling after him.

He turned and stopped, recognizing the person jogging after him as you, who he remembered from the battle. “May I help you?” he asked in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

“Yeah. Uh, hi. I don’t know if you remember, but you saved me the other day,” you explained sheepishly. “You know, during the attack.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Oh! Good. I just wanted to say thank you for that. For saving me, I mean. And the city.”

“I see,” the god replied, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Well then, you are welcome. Really, I was just doing my job, though.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.” There was a lapse in the conversation, as neither of you were really sure what to say next. “Can we go somewhere? Like for coffee or something. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Oddly enough, that made Loki distrust the situation even more. Ok, maybe you were actually a super nice person who had a guilty conscience for making him feel bad, and maybe that prompted you to come thank him properly. But that you wanted to buy him something, presumably to show your newfound appreciation? Absolutely preposterous. The only people who ever did something remotely as kind as that were his fellow Avengers, and not even all of them or particularly often. Any of the other people who openly supported him didn’t show appreciation, per se. It was more that they felt he’d done enough to redeem himself at this point, which wasn’t exactly the most thrilling phrasing either. But here you were, awkwardly shuffling your feet and asking to buy him coffee. Loki supposed he shouldn’t pass such an opportunity up. And yet, he probably was going to.

“No thank you,” he finally replied, shaking himself from the shocked, catatonic state he’d fallen into. “I do not much like coffee.”

As he walked away, he thought that would be the end of it. That perhaps you’d only been talking to him in the hopes he’d invite you to see the other Avengers, too. That maybe you’d go back to trying to wheedle your way inside at the front desk. Much to his surprise, you came hurrying after him.

“Wait,” you called. “Ok, so scratch the coffee. How about ice cream or tea or a milkshake or something? Anything really, you name it.”

Now that you were outside, he observed you again while he thought, as if hoping the sunlight would reveal your true intentions. He couldn’t find anything malicious in your expression, just some sort of anxiety. Loki must have taken too long in coming to a decision, because you started rambling.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you into it or anything, but I wanted to do something nice to say thank you and-” you cut off and bit your lip. “Is this stupid? It sounds stupid. It’s probably stupid. I’ll go now. Again, I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

“One moment,” he said before you could make your retreat. “You said anything I want, correct?” You eagerly nodded as Loki got an idea. “Alright then. I would like a five course meal at the nicest restaurant in London, please and thank you.”

“I, um. I know I said anything but, uh...” You noticed his serious expression had turned into a sly grin. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. My apologies, but I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

You began to laugh, too. Not in a way that made him think it was out of courtesy or pity, but an honest to goodness laugh. Briefly, he thought it one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, before quickly shaking the idea from his mind. It was ridiculous; he hardly even knew you. But you seemed pretty adamant on showing your gratitude. Plus, you’d apologized to him, which was more than he could say for most of the people in his life.

“You know, I would usually say tea, but a milkshake actually sounds quite lovely right now,” he told you once you’d calmed down. “That is, if the offer is still open.”

“Of course it is!” you happily told him, the smile on your face growing. Not to mention you seemed much more at ease. “I actually know a great diner that’s just a short walk from here, if that works for you.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

It took approximately ten minutes to get to the restaurant. After properly introducing yourselves, you kept up a light dialogue. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly; just hesitant, as if both of you were afraid of saying the wrong things and shattering the blissful moment. Loki still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust you. Such a feeling just wasn’t in his nature, especially not when it came to someone he just met and had a considerably rocky start with. Even so, he found himself enjoying your company.

Arriving at the diner, Loki held the door open for you as you walked in. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a seat, the classic red stools at the bar free at this time of the afternoon. Loki swiveled the seat back and forth ever so slightly, and found himself chuckling when he caught you doing the same thing. You offered him a shy smile as a waitress handed the both of you a menu.

The God of Mischief had only ever had the pleasure of drinking a milkshake once before, a vanilla one when the team had convinced him to try it on one of their outings. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it and planned on playing it safe by ordering the same thing now. When you asked what he was getting, though, you were having none of that. After nearly five minutes of rousing debate, you’d finally talked him up to chocolate. Part of him was having so much fun with the discussion and how animated you became about the topic that he almost didn’t want to concede. But the waitress came back to take your orders, and he didn’t want to make her leave and come back again.

“Oh, and some French fries too please,” you added after ordering your favorite milkshake.

Loki shot you a perplexed look. “French fries?” he asked after the waitress moved away.

“Yeah. Please tell me you’ve heard of them before.”

“I have. I have even eaten them a few times before, believe it or not,” he answered as you turned to face him, leaning on the counter. “But are you certain they go with a milkshake?”

Your jaw dropped open. “Of course they do. Listen, Loki, you haven’t lived until you’ve dipped French fries in a milkshake. You’ll love it, I promise.”

You continued to help him expand his knowledge of Midgardian cuisine as you waited for your order to come. Once it arrived, you dipped a fry in your shake, just as you had said, trying to convince him just how delicious it truly was. The trickster skeptically picked one up and mimicked your actions, plunging it into the frothy liquid. The second it hit his tongue, his face lit up in pure delight.

“See, I told you,” you laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he said back, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his smile was.

An hour and another order of fries later, the two of you finished your snack. Loki was in a better mood than he’d been all month. Honestly, he was a little sad when the bill came.

“Are you certain you do not want me to pay?” he checked as you fished out a twenty from your wallet to cover the low-cost meal. “Or we could split it, at least.”

“Loki, it’s fine,” you giggled. “This is me thanking you, remember? And, honestly, it’s me apologizing, too. I was just startled the other day and there was a lot going on. I hadn’t ever really thought about what I’d do if I met an Avenger, least of all if it happened while they were saving my life. I was overwhelmed; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself or anything.” Without really thinking about it, your hand moved to rest on top of his. It was a surprise to Loki, but a welcome one. “Because—and I can say this with absolute certainty—you’re amazing, Loki. You do so much for the city. I hope you know how appreciated you are, at least by me.”

His other large hand came to cover yours. “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t mean to say the pet name, but it just slipped out. “I cannot express how much that means to me.”

Somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell you everything, make you privy to all his inner turmoil. But that was buried underneath years of pain and rejection, too heavy to move for someone he didn’t know all too well, no matter how connected he felt to you in this moment. So he let the urge pass over him, hoping his thanks would be sufficient enough in expressing how he felt.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you told him, squeezing his hand. Then you stood up. “So, I guess I’ll be letting you get on with your day then. This was really nice, though. Thanks for agreeing to it.”

“You’re welcome and thank you,” he replied. “It really was.”

After waving goodbye to each other, you exited and Loki stayed where he was, picking at the last few nubs of fries left in the basket. He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t leave, too. Just that something was missing.

“Ah, young love,” the elderly waitress who had been serving you all day said to Loki as she came to collect the empty dishes. “Magical, isn’t it?”

“Love?” Loki choked out. “I am afraid you are quite mistaken. It was not even a date. I hardly even know them. I will probably never even see them again.”

“And you’re just gonna let them walk out?” she tsked. “It’s a right shame, sonny. Let me tell you, you don’t just let something like that walk out on ya.”

He looked at the door for a second in melancholic contemplation before bolting out after you. He shouted his thanks to the waitress as he pushed open the glass door, exiting out into the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, they scanned for your form before it walked out of his life forever. Spotting you, he jogged in your direction and called your name. Funny, he thought, how just earlier that day the roles had been reversed.

“Loki?” you asked, stopped on the sidewalk as he caught up to you. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“Actually, the problem is what did not happen.” He kicked a rock with his shoe, as suddenly the ground became very interesting to him. His insides were a nervous mess. Clearing his throat, he gathered his courage to continue. “See, I do not have any way of contacting you again. And it had been my sincere hope that you would want to do this again, let me take you out somewhere.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, jotting down your number on an old receipt you’d found in your wallet. Smirking, you parroted back his words from earlier. “How about you take me for a five course meal in London?”

“Oh, so you have turned my own jokes against me. How very clever of you,” he laughed. “What if we just went to see a movie, instead?”

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Just text me a time and place, and I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it. As soon as I buy the tickets, I shall let you know.”

“Sounds awesome! It’s a date.”

As you parted ways, for real this time, it registered in Loki’s mind what you’d said. He hadn’t particularly been thinking about his phrasing or in what way he was asking you to hang out. But apparently you’d taken it as an invitation for a date. As Loki arrived back at the Tower and flopped onto his bed, already dreaming of your laugh, he found he was quite happy that you had.

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kouyurii · 2 years

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Hi Ann! Youre so nice and sweet. I love how you ramble in the tags about fics you love. Just a question, Do you have any favourite authors? I dont mean authors you live above everyone, but auhtors who you love virtually anything they write?

hello sweet anon im terribly sorry i did not mean to ramble but (⇀‸↼‶)

okay so number 1 on this list has to go to @amjustagirl my queen of imagery literally all her metaphors are SO well thought out im in awe everytime i read something of hers 🥺 if i had even a smidge of her talent i promise you i'd be looking for a career in creative writing by now

a very close number 2 would be my beloved @ufo-ikawa i havent read her recent fics but i can tell you now without hesitation that if you have the time & capacity to be flooded with emotions (unlike me </3) i would recommend them to you with my whole heart (for lovers who hesitate, commas of care, this summer i..., the world starts and ends with you!)

spot number 3 goes to the one and only @sakusins who had me reading fics for characters i didnt even know like no joke shes insane she singlehandedly got me to watch & read tr and she's the only person i'd ever read hanma & gyutaro from

number 4 is none other than @heich0e i got pulled in by her haikyuu fics but i learned she's also crazy good at writing aot and has an aot longfic in the works so i read the few snippets of it that she posts and suddenly im at s3 in just 5 days🧎🏻‍♀️

fifth is shared by @sourstars bc if nikki jie was brilliant at weaving imagery throughout her multichapter fics, pandora is incredible at jampacking her metaphors into shorter pieces without losing any of the emotional impact

and also @chimielie bc i love the way lia writes reader and how lovesick the boys always are and she has such a unique writing style that i do not have the vocabulary to describe but i would bet that if you let me read one of her fics without showing me her url i would probably be able to tell it's her

and because i am literally incapable of shutting up here are other writers whose masterlists i havent gotten the chance to go through but you can bet your life savings ill be spamming them with rbs if i survive the semester

@eightonenine's osamu and omi pieces have my heart in a vice grip but i also would read tsukki and hirugami just for her

@sunkeiji sayu has stopped writing but as long as she doesnt suddenly delete her writing blog impulsively i WILL go through the rest of her works bc theyre always so sweet :(

@shinunaki has me reading for characters ive never even simped for before (kagami, goshiki,, aran,,,,and i have a feeling shion soon teehee) and now im at least a litol bit in love with them after reading just one fic from him

@augustinewrites she writes such a wide variety of fics and every single one of them is so cute and unique and appeals to my tiny lil heart one day ill sit down and read her entire masterlist in one go dont even try me

@kentoangel roma's fics are always so full of love it is impossible to read her pieces and not be buzzing with serotonin in my veins by the end of it

@nakizumie cant wait to read her older works bc ive only read her newer ones and i just know all her stuff is gonna be so good i can feel it in my bones

@aominology has these really long bulleted fics and other long fics that ive been dying to read bc her drabbles are already have me clutching at my heart

@kairakeiji bc she is a master at switching povs so subtly and the boys are pining SO hard it makes me yearn but also reader loves them just as much which makes it so sweet :(

@duino is another underrated longfic writer she includes so many subtle details that all add up to just fill my whole being with happiness and love by the end of it

@luvbub you know how when reading hcs you might just skip to your faves and ignore those you dont simp for? yeah that's impossible when it's bub's hcs i literally cannot resist i end up reading every single character

@yurens bc she weaves words together so beautifully and her works are on the longer side too so i have to save them for when i can appreciate them properly (my beloved yurens if you dont want to be tagged pls let me know sobs)

@arhvste i think she went on a hiatus but then she came back and posted banger after banger like it was nothing she has the sweetest ways of showing love

@peachysamu i wanna read the stuff shes been posting on her new blog but also i am panic binge reading her whole masterlist on here in case she decides to delete this blog sobs

@ryesei bc everytime they repost an old work they're like 'oh this sucks' even though it does not, in fact, suck and i am eagerly awaiting the rest so i can finally (re)read them

and theres also @mysterystarz and @shoyotime bc ive read way too few of their works it is very upsetting that uni work dares keep me away from them >:(

#ANON YOURE THE SWEETEST ILY #this was such a cute question ty for asking this i will take any opportunity to ramble about my favourite people #giving you a kiss #or a hug #or a headpat #whichever you prefer <33 #longfic writers my beloveds you are too underrated #i love questions like these >:0 #THANKYOU AGAIN MY ADORABLE ANON #annons :>#❀ — asked & annswered

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