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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach?

AUTHOR’S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin’s company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki’s plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

Fandral smiled brightly with a loud laugh and in a desperate time to prove him wrong, Loki looked at his schedule with a smart remark on his tongue. Loki’s smile disappeared quickly. Damn. He did have the same class as Fandral.

Fandral smiled that bright smile and then winked to the side and Loki heard the high pitched giggles of flirting women, “Shall we walk together when classes start next week? Perhaps I could get you a date this year?”

With an eye roll and voice laced with sarcasm Loki replied, “yes because I want help from you."

Sif held her hand out to Loki for his schedule. Thor insisted earlier she could mark where everyone would be this semester for easy communication. So, unwillingly Loki handed it to her knowing he was sentencing himself to public outings instead of the comfort of his room with books. He pondered if he should get out of those outings or try to get out of his room. Perhaps he would meet someone, or a few people, to hang out with instead of his brother during meal times.

Thor clapped Loki’s back, "this is going to be the time of our lives. College is full of possibilities. Last year was such a great time for the five of us! There were plenty of people I met! Last year all you did in your free time was study. Lighten up Brother, and develop friendships.”

Siff spoke up after scribbling on schedules, “Or he could get the best grades, and the honors scholarship for extra money.” Sif gave Thor a raised eyebrow after he chuckled, then she shrugged going back to scribbling. She muttered, “graduate top class and make more money than you. Support himself and whoever stumbles into his life.”

Valstagg’s boisterous laughter caught everyone’s attention until his eyes darted in the direction of a food truck. He mumbled, “That would be quite the stumble for Loki to notice.”

Hogun’s lip twitches a smidge as he looked at the schedules with Siff and marking them. Loki’s schedule was back and he looked it over. He had the 8am class with Thor and knew the idiot would miss too much class from the way Thor groaned over a class first thing on a Monday. Loki had the damn extracurricular art class that Fandral was also in.

Loki was excited for art class because he practiced occasionally by drawing what he imagined a scene looked like from his leisure readings. Although Loki was terrible at drawing realistic details, nothing stopped him from trying. This class filled a block in his major which further helped him decide to pursue some knowledge for his little hobby. No one would ever see such things due to drawing being a secret… well, for now anyway. Fandral was likely to tell everyone of his poor skills once their shared classroom of a three hour long session two times a week.

Fandral inquired, “so…Sif are we going to come to your dorm room for lunch?”

Sif smirked, “the invitation goes to everyone but you.”

“How cruel to keep me away from the sight of your beautiful dorm mate.”

Loki turned as he claimed he would see them later. Loki strolled to the dinning hall. It was a typical day; annoying brother and his friends, people all around him talking animatedly with others, some more intimately touching with the hold of hands or lips locked together. Loki tore his gaze from those people and observed where he was, and why he was there and NOT for some romantic adventure.

The buildings seemingly new due to constant cleaning and repairs. The pathways that seemed to be expanding due to hurried people walking beside the sidewalk trying not to be late. His night owl of a brother for example was always in a rush and did not go with the pace of everyone else. Otherwise, the grass was perfectly manicured. There were areas for decorative flowers, bushes, as well as well placed trees.

Individuals gathered under trees seeking some comfort in the cooler shade. Loki glanced upwards to the sky that was currently cloudy. Then the sun shone thus pouring warmth onto him and momentarily blinding him.

Loki was sure he somehow ran into something but with a curse word flying out of someone’s mouth realization struck instantly this was not an object. Loki instinctively held his hands out to catch the person. Short hair in blended layers caught the sunlight in wonderful variations of browns. The hair seemed to flow slowly as Loki hastily pulled the person closer to prevent a fall. Warm leather in his hands that helped with the grasp. Once stabilized Loki glanced down and noticed the petite and plus size girl in his grasp.

Her eyes were shielded by huge sunglasses, her full cheeks framed by hair placed perfectly, except for a few strands dancing near her lips. A full lower lip pressed to her thin upper one as she pushed out of his grasp.

The trance seemed to end as Loki watched the girl pick up her phone. The glistening pieces around the device let Loki know instantly the screen was shattered. The woman ran her fingers through her hair and Loki was convinced that must be how her hair was supposed to be due to it looking better than before. Her eyebrows angled as she tapped on the phone and it seemed to be working.

Loki had money to replace her phone, even get his which was the newest model of over a thousand dollars. His parents had money due to his father, Odin, owning a software corporation that was supposed to be handed down to either Thor or Loki. Of course depending on who learned the most in college from their business majors. Loki actually had plenty of money he earned himself due to taking a position to work in his father’s business, a branch closest to the campus in an attempt to learn more. To inherit the corporation was the goal and was the reason he spent too much time in his room, practicing programming for his second major in computer science.

Loki quickly replied as soon as it registered, “I am sorry. I didn’t-”

The woman’s face turned to his with lightning speed and her lips parted with a harsh tone, “if you say you didn’t see me because I am short I will bring you down to my level with a punch to your gut.”

Loki blinked and finally noticed how short the woman was. He estimated a little over a foot smaller than himself due to him being able to rest his arm on her head easily, if he were to even attempt it. However with the fiery look he was getting, Loki stammered, “I can get you a new phone. Any phone you want.”

The woman was already tapping on her phone quickly as if sending a text. A few strands of her hair danced in her face but she seemed to ignore it. Loki however, needed to push back a single hair back in place to maintain his professional and clean appearance. Loki was not sure if she was ignoring him or not and he absentmindedly cleared his throat.

The dark haired woman placed her phone in a pocket, ran her other hand through her hair that parted in a different way..that was visually satisfactory as well. Her leather jacket protesting with sounds of attempts to stretch as she crossed her arms. Her eyebrows rose above her glasses and her bottom lip pressed to the thinner one. She seems to be annoyed, arguably she had every reason to have that right. She said nothing, nor did she make any attempt to even try to speak.

Loki wasn’t sure if this little ball of fire even heard a word he said. He spoke again as he took a small writing tablet from his inner coat pocket, “here is my information, we could meet later and you can pick out any phone you wish. There is a business not far from here that I work at-”

A casual, but with irritation mixed, voice spoke, “Not interested. I have the insurance on this one to have it replaced.”

Loki glanced up but did not see her. He turned and she was already walking away, quickly. Loki took long strides to her as he handed the woman the paper with his name, number, and location information to meet. The woman took the paper and seemed to be looking at it with a tilt of her head towards the paper but Loki already seen her eyelashes high up due to her obviously looking at the path she was on. The woman did nothing to stop her quick pace that Loki’s long legs easily kept up with.

As she crumpled up the paper and threw it in the recycling bin she spoke, “Thanks for the offer but I will pass.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed, “pardon?”

The small woman stopped as she replaced the sunglasses to her head. “Can you see now that I don’t want your help?”

Big eyes that were sharp and harsh with angled eyebrows. Eyelashes so thick they seemed to cast their own shadows among her face. Bright green eyes with flecks of dark brown and an inner iris of honey gold that stemmed into the outer green.

“You just cost me a ton of work to replace a dumbass phone. Nice work by the way to try to get me to call you. Clever plan, but it’s not something I fall for.”

“If you would let me help-”

The woman interrupted him, again with a scoff.

All Loki wanted to do was help her. Atleast to replace what he had broken. Everyone else would jump at the latest phone with the best camera and larger screen. Top notch software that had lighting quick responses. A phone that stored everything for Loki; His contacts, everything in his calendar, personal alarms for daily routines, apps that helped with maintaining his body physique, and importantly he had access to the school web pages for homework-In conclusion, Loki’s phone was his life.

Loki tries again for a chance to talk quickly.

She waved her hands, palms to him and waved them with her head down, “Uh huh. Nope. Go try to woo someone else with your good looks of, ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’” Her eyes met his as her hands gestured to him and her eyes skimmed over him briefly with the burning rage behind them. “There are a ton of people out there to fall for someone to take care of them with your fancy handwriting that obviously comes from a prestigious schooling. As well as your expensive clothes.”

Loki’s mouth parted and then shut firmly. “You make accusations based on nothing but a few things. Maybe you should try not to judge a book by its cover.”

She rose an eyebrow, “how? Over dinner while playing some Q and A?”

Loki rose his eyebrows in shock and his mouth parted slightly. Loki did not miss a chance though, “If it could even things out. Perhaps.”

She scoffed and put her glasses back in place over her eyes, “I would pay for myself anyway.”

Loki gesture between them before she would turn, “You think that would make this even?”

“How about you just read my lips and understand you don’t owe me anything.” Her eyebrows rose over the glasses with a forced smile, “we good now?”

Loki stared at the woman in disbelief. “If you insist everything is ok but-”

The woman replied with a curt nod and side smile, “Everything is great. Try to have a good day.”

Loki looked elsewhere not believing he was going to let her leave, “I wish you well and give many apologies.”

The woman turned when her phone went off, “I have to go. Bye.” She did not look back but greeted the person on the other line with a happy melodic, “hel~lo! Sorry I am late. I bumped into someone.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at the odd change but paid no attention to it as he went to the dining hall for food. Loki was going to enjoy some of his remaining free time with a large serving of sweets before returning to his room in solitude before Thor, Fandral, and Hogun returned to their combined space. Loki thanked the school for having the set up of separate bedrooms, however cursed the common small kitchen and livingroom that he had to walk through to use one of the bathrooms.

They would always try to get him to join in their “fun” of watching each other play a fighting game while they drank energy drinks. Hogun would go to bed at a reasonable time but the other two would stay up talking loudly about the damn game until they went out to a bar.

Sometimes Loki would join in a few games of cards just to take some of their money. It got to the point where everyone agreed to use just change instead of dollar bills.

Loki smirked as he remembered to take the vase full of coins to the change machine, “Idiots…”

Loki ate alone and no one bothered him either. He did watch as others around him talking cheerfully. A friend might be nice to spend some time with once in a while. However, Loki’s phone buzzing in his pocket with his schedule alarm to start practicing programming made him remember he was not there for companionship. He was at college to get an education.

Loki picked up after himself and walked swiftly to his dormitory, swiped his ID card to get through doors and finally his pin password for his shared space with the others. Loki stomach sunk when the lights were still off and no one was there. He noted the feeling as odd while he walked in a daze to his room. He shut his bedroom door off to the rest of the world and readied himself for an hour of programming.

Loki programmed for about an hour and a half to figure out something new he stumbled onto. Loki needed a shower. Something about programming made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and needing to feel fresh again. Loki’s cursed phone rang for the third time since he was getting ready to relax with a book. The most annoying sound he had on his phone was Thor’s ringtone. Loki purposely hit the end button to hang up and force the call to his mailbox. Grabbing a book and sitting in his comfortable desk chair Loki’s daily peace began.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #stubborn indepence #chapter 1 #brightsun-and-darkmidnight

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irishtowriteabook · 5 years

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-Growing Pains- Part 1

🌸Summary; A throughly inebriated David blurts out some hidden feelings towards his best friend, turned carer, one faithful night. Nothing too major (not yet anyways) but it turns out seeing Natalie so openly affectionate with everyone who isn’t him has been getting him down!

Request; “Hey 👋💛 Can i have some more jealous Dave (or Natalie) please? *plot details and ideas that I won’t put in as this intro is lengthy as is*

I decided to change it up slightly as I know I love jealous fics but it can get too much! This is a two parter! Enjoy! Hope I did it justice

•

The blustering wind caused her (now loosely) curled hair to whip against her cheeks; a force to be reckoned with. Seriously, shit hurt. Natalie WOULD have rolled up the window. If the rolling up mechanism contraption thing worked, that is.

“Skype call with Ian, sponsored ad stories for boohoo, accountant meeting-“ A groan interrupted Natalie’s train of thought. “-And looking after a drunk David.”

Drunk as a skunk, Lorraine had said. I only had a Coke, David had said.

Natalie closed off her note-penning app with a swipe of her manicured finger and sighed. She looked down at a splayed out David. He took up most of the already cosy backseat with her lanky, wrangled limbs. His inebriated self held no hesitance in plopping his head down on her lap either.

David shuffled closer to her thighs, wanting to get closer to the radiating heat and bundling up her short black dress in the process.

“Quit it.” Natalie murmured. ‘I’d like to preserve what little dignity I have left after this night.’

“Natalieee..” David whined, his bleary eyes meeting hers. “I want to get off this rollercoaster. Like right now.” His words were punctuated with sighs as he voice wavered even more. The Uber driver seemed to no longer need to live vicariously through the Fast & Furious movies and instead made his dreams a reality. The car jostled harshly as he sped over speedbumps. At least Natalie THOUGHT they were speedbumps.

The neon green signage of an upcoming 711 loomed in the near distance amongst throngs of other partygoers. Natalie seriously considered asking Javi to stop for a few minutes tops for some painkillers but she was already in his bad books over making him wait.

“Fuck, my head.” David all but whispered tugging his denim jacket closer around him. Natalie froze, about as solid as Jeff’s abdomen, as David took hold of her hand and placed it upon his head. His dazed eyes couldn’t help but blink to a close as Natalie pressed the palm of her hand against his ‘throbbing’ forehead.

“This is what you get for being a dumbass around pineapple vodka floats!” Natalie quipped but her voice lacked edge in favour of a rarer softer tone. She settled her own head against the window.

Traffic lights, red ones that Javi drove through, green that Javi sped through and yellow that Javi cursed through, shone in through the tinted grass. It created various subdued hues that enveloped the pair- shit another pothole.

Natalie couldn’t help it. Her fingers mindlessly combed through David’s perspiration ridden but still majorly fluffy hair. His bottom lip jotted out. He smiled smalley up at her. She gazed down at him fondly but still kept a wary eye on the meter. She rarely Bought credit cards or much paper money with her on nights out. Nights out were usually regarded as “David needs blog content like right now” pseudos. Besides they only drank really, not gone rockclimbing. Except for that one ti-

“Why’d you stop?” Dave pouted and in his drunken stupor tried to again find her hand. He latched confidently onto her seatbelt.

The impatient stare from Javi in the mirror spurred Natalie on. She gathered her belongings at a faster rate.

“We’re home Dave” She explained quickly but his head wouldn’t budge a singular inch from her lap. Stubborn as always.

“Can’t we drive around- hey Mr Taxi Man can’t we drive around the block again? Just one more time, deadass.” David slurred out.

“Other clientele. Vamos.” Javi dismisses them courtly with a wave of his hand.

“You suck.” grunted David, matter of factly. Natalie mumbled hasty apologies under her breath and he wrenched the payment from her outstretched palm. No change? Alrighty then. Dickhead.

Lugging a floppy David into the house and onto the couch proved to be a hefty task. His eye foot coordination was 10x worse drunk than him sober.

“Whew! I used arm muscles I didn’t even know I had. I might just leave your ass and become a body builder one of these days.” Natalie glanced down at the sprawled out 23 year old.

David’s face suddenly morphed into the most downcast of expressions and Natalie felt compelled to kneel down beside him on the cool flooring. Her face embodied all that is confusion.

“No. Don’t ever leave me, please?” David frowned. Natalie damn near melted, she won’t lie, as he rested his hand on her forearm that was resting on the cushion. He looked up at her with his big brown eyes, waiting (im)patiently for her reply.

“Hey, hey, hey! It was only a joke, you dork!”

At her words David’s mood switched to the polar opposite, a complete 180°. His signature cheesy grin blossomed on his face once more albeit sleepily.

“Okay. Thanks!” He whooped softly. Natalie let out a breathy laugh before flopping down beside David on the couch, said David being totally entranced in his hands. She couldn’t blame him.

With a flick of the wrist (and the various remotes) the television and electric fireplace switched to life. Basking in the warmth and comfortable silence with the lack of interruptions or others surrounding them was different. A good different!

It was a welcome change to the usual deafening music and hard-to-keep-up-with conversations. Natalie was sure the neighbours agreed with her stance too. Hell even the sound of fake nails scratching down a blackboard was better than- Natalie shivered.

She half tuned into the news broadcasting stations as they relayed info on rallies and the like but David’s murmurs took her attention soon after.

“I wish I was Zane, man” He said drowsily. He clutched a nearby blanket to his chest as Natalie looked on.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Natalie pondered as she riddled with the remote, twirling it around her fingers. “Because I dont! I can’t handle Zane usually, nevermind a Zane 2.0.” She laughed good-naturedly. However her hearty laughter soon dimmed as she heard David’s pathetic attempt at a fake chuckle. Something Liza could never do, but we shan’t get into right now.

“But you love Zane!” David sniffed and stared blankly at the plasma screen television. I love you too, Natalie felt inclined to say but couldn’t. Or maybe that’s more of a wouldn’t.

“True that but-“ The brunette let her high ponytail down and shook out her hair till it tumbled down her shoulders. “-It doesn’t mean I want another one of him!” She illustrated her words with arm gestures. David paid more attention to those than her words.

“Yeah. Makes sense.” He shrugged and blinked rapidly in order to stay awake.

Just as Natalie thought David had drifted off beside her he piped up again.

“I just think that Zane’s- Zane’s real lucky.” He slurred out. Natalie scoffed and shoved him gently.

“Says the multi-millionaire! Zane has got an ant infestation for the second time this week.”

“I don’t like it when my aunt visits either.” David sympathised. He raised his arms as Natalie tucked the blanket properly over him. She smiled. The opportunity to stroke his chest during the process for a moment, just a moment, was not passed up by her.

Her fingers trickled over a semi solid resting place and her thumb grazed his chest over his, you guessed it, black t-shirt.

“Zane gets Natalie hugs. They’re the best type of hugs! And- and Zane gets- Zane gets all the hugs.” David’s head lolled about as he struggled to sit up, his view still littered with the aftereffects of alcohol.

A lump grew in Natalie’s throat as his words sunk in. She had expected his usual tirade of drunken rambling and unrealistic vlog ideas but this? This seemed much more than that.

The brunette eyed him up, pensive.

“Do you like hugs Davey?” She questioned softly. Amidst his playing with the zipper of her open jacket he replied, “Nah. I just like your hugs.”

Guilt washed over her like waves tumbling ashore and she wasn’t sure exactly why. I mean it’s not like she rejected his hugs or affection per se, aside from that one time he was coated head to toe in slime. However the pair had lost that physical closeness they had as adolescents.

A flashback struck her, multiple ones really. Of Jason remarking on her ‘disgusted’ facial expressions during Datalie talk podcast segments. Of the incredibly awkward hug shared between the pair after her car surprise. Of her hugs with Zane. Cosied up pictures with Ilya and Jeff. Where did David come into things?

It’s not that she did something wrong to David, it’s just that she didn’t do the initiating. Not really anyways. It was always him.

Natalie’s attention fell on David as he prodded her thigh.

“You okay Nat?” His face was scrunched up slightly in worry. “Usually I cant get you to shut up!” He teased happily. Natalie’s mouth dropped open in mock offence and she punched him on the shoulder.

“Oi!” She let out a giggle. ‘Wait did that sound seriously just come from me?’

His cheekiness eased a smile on her face.

“C’mere.” With that she tugged his head down on her chest and collarbone area and sunk back with him resting on her against the soft cushions of the couch. Sober David would probably have frozen him and wouldn’t be sure whereabouts to place his hands. This David was a whole other story!

The fireplace sent an orange glow around the room, paired alongside with whatever visuals reflected from the television. They were both otherwise preoccupied to notice the broadcasts.

Meanwhile Smirnoff ridden David snuggled right in against her. God the biggest smile decorated her face to the point where her highlighted cheeks ached and she tried to contain it in case he looked upwards. She cautiously but warmly wrapped her arms around him. His mop of hair tickled her rosy cheek as she rested it on there but you’d hear no complaints from her and that’s for sure!

He smelt of laundry detergent and a sort of clean cottony scent. Yes she took a sneaky breath in. She hoped her perfume, a flowery concoction, wasn’t overly empowering or strong. Him burrowing even closer served her her answer.

David wound his arms beneath her jacked and around her waist and his grip didn’t loosen until he dozed off. Shy whispers of promised changes filled the air from Natalie.

•

To be continued! This is very superfluous (new word of the day!) but I’m a sucker for detail and as is the person who inspired this🌷 I’ve been awol for god knows how long because of the leaving cert prep but I’m back! I’m filtering through requests and it’s taking ages to write them out but do send more in! It may take a while but I’ll get to them 💕 Hope people enjoyed!

It takes a second or so to like or even comment (if you’re a fast typer) but that second makes me smile for like a trillion hours.

#david dobrik #datalie #David x Natalie #Natalie Noel #vlog squad fanfiction #vlogsquad #zane hijazi #liza koshy #natalie mariduena #datalie fanfiction #jealous david dobrik #comfort #friends to lovers #jealousy #david dobrik fanfiction #carly and erin

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brightsun-and-darkmidnight · 4 years

Text

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin's company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki's plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

Fandral smiled brightly with a loud laugh and in a desperate time to prove him wrong, Loki looked at his schedule with a smart remark on his tongue. Loki's smile disappeared quickly. Damn. He did have the same class as Fandral.

Fandral smiled that bright smile and then winked to the side and Loki heard the high pitched giggles of flirting women, "Shall we walk together when classes start next week? Perhaps I could get you a date this year?"

With an eye roll and voice laced with sarcasm Loki replied, "yes because I want help from you."

Thor clapped Loki's back, "this is going to be the time of our lives. College is full of possibilities. Last year was such a great time for the five of us! There were plenty of people I met! Last year all you did in your free time was study. Lighten up Brother, and develop friendships."

Siff spoke up after scribbling on schedules, "Or he could get the best grades, and the honors scholarship for extra money." Sif gave Thor a raised eyebrow after he chuckled, then she shrugged going back to scribbling. She muttered, "graduate top class and make more money than you. Support himself and whoever stumbles into his life."

Valstagg's boisterous laughter caught everyone's attention until his eyes darted in the direction of a food truck. He mumbled, "That would be quite the stumble for Loki to notice."

Hogun's lip twitches a smidge as he looked at the schedules with Siff and marking them. Loki's schedule was back and he looked it over. He had the 8am class with Thor and knew the idiot would miss too much class from the way Thor groaned over a class first thing on a Monday. Loki had the damn extracurricular art class that Fandral was also in.

Fandral inquired, "so...Sif are we going to come to your dorm room for lunch?"

Sif smirked, "the invitation goes to everyone but you."

"How cruel to keep me away from the sight of your beautiful dorm mate."

Loki was sure he somehow ran into something but with a curse word flying out of someone's mouth realization struck instantly this was not an object. Loki instinctively held his hands out to catch the person. Short hair in blended layers caught the sunlight in wonderful variations of browns. The hair seemed to flow slowly as Loki hastily pulled the person closer to prevent a fall. Warm leather in his hands that helped with the grasp. Once stabilized Loki glanced down and noticed the petite and plus size girl in his grasp.

Loki had money to replace her phone, even get his which was the newest model of over a thousand dollars. His parents had money due to his father, Odin, owning a software corporation that was supposed to be handed down to either Thor or Loki. Of course depending on who learned the most in college from their business majors. Loki actually had plenty of money he earned himself due to taking a position to work in his father's business, a branch closest to the campus in an attempt to learn more. To inherit the corporation was the goal and was the reason he spent too much time in his room, practicing programming for his second major in computer science.

Loki quickly replied as soon as it registered, "I am sorry. I didn't-"

The woman's face turned to his with lightning speed and her lips parted with a harsh tone, "if you say you didn't see me because I am short I will bring you down to my level with a punch to your gut."

Loki wasn't sure if this little ball of fire even heard a word he said. He spoke again as he took a small writing tablet from his inner coat pocket, "here is my information, we could meet later and you can pick out any phone you wish. There is a business not far from here that I work at-"

A casual, but with irritation mixed, voice spoke, "Not interested. I have the insurance on this one to have it replaced."

As she crumpled up the paper and threw it in the recycling bin she spoke, "Thanks for the offer but I will pass."

Loki's eyebrows furrowed, "pardon?"

The small woman stopped as she replaced the sunglasses to her head. "Can you see now that I don't want your help?"

"You just cost me a ton of work to replace a dumbass phone. Nice work by the way to try to get me to call you. Clever plan, but it's not something I fall for."

"If you would let me help-"

The woman interrupted him, again with a scoff.

Loki tries again for a chance to talk quickly.

She waved her hands, palms to him and waved them with her head down, "Uh huh. Nope. Go try to woo someone else with your good looks of, 'tall, dark, and handsome.'" Her eyes met his as her hands gestured to him and her eyes skimmed over him briefly with the burning rage behind them. "There are a ton of people out there to fall for someone to take care of them with your fancy handwriting that obviously comes from a prestigious schooling. As well as your expensive clothes."

Loki's mouth parted and then shut firmly. "You make accusations based on nothing but a few things. Maybe you should try not to judge a book by its cover."

She rose an eyebrow, "how? Over dinner while playing some Q and A?"

Loki rose his eyebrows in shock and his mouth parted slightly. Loki did not miss a chance though, "If it could even things out. Perhaps."

She scoffed and put her glasses back in place over her eyes, "I would pay for myself anyway."

Loki gesture between them before she would turn, "You think that would make this even?"

"How about you just read my lips and understand you don't owe me anything." Her eyebrows rose over the glasses with a forced smile, "we good now?"

Loki stared at the woman in disbelief. "If you insist everything is ok but-"

The woman replied with a curt nod and side smile, "Everything is great. Try to have a good day."

Loki looked elsewhere not believing he was going to let her leave, "I wish you well and give many apologies."

The woman turned when her phone went off, "I have to go. Bye." She did not look back but greeted the person on the other line with a happy melodic, "hel~lo! Sorry I am late. I bumped into someone."

They would always try to get him to join in their "fun" of watching each other play a fighting game while they drank energy drinks. Hogun would go to bed at a reasonable time but the other two would stay up talking loudly about the damn game until they went out to a bar.

Sometimes Loki would join in a few games of cards just to take some of their money. It got to the point where everyone agreed to use just change instead of dollar bills.

Loki smirked as he remembered to take the vase full of coins to the change machine, "Idiots…"

Loki ate alone and no one bothered him either. He did watch as others around him talking cheerfully. A friend might be nice to spend some time with once in a while. However, Loki's phone buzzing in his pocket with his schedule alarm to start practicing programming made him remember he was not there for companionship. He was at college to get an education.

Loki programmed for about an hour and a half to figure out something new he stumbled onto. Loki needed a shower. Something about programming made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and needing to feel fresh again. Loki's cursed phone rang for the third time since he was getting ready to relax with a book. The most annoying sound he had on his phone was Thor's ringtone. Loki purposely hit the end button to hang up and force the call to his mailbox. Grabbing a book and sitting in his comfortable desk chair Loki's daily peace began.

#brightsun-and-darkmidnight #Stubborn Independence #loki #college au

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lynesonline · 4 years

Text

The Great Escape.

By William Lynes

11/15/2019

The man with the bald head sat on the rumbling gray motorcycle, tension filling his eyes, one brown one green, their colors highlighted in the disappearing sun. He was dressed in a tattered gray German army uniform with a silver Doppellitze, double braid insignia, accenting his collar. His eyes searched the rolling field covered with moist green grass; fright apparently on his strained face. He strapped the Nazi steel helmet on his head, the enemy always present. Checking the gas tank between his legs for petrol, he revved the World War II BMW engine and raced off, dirt flying from a spinning rear tire.

The man raced through the occupied hamlet blasting over the dirty cobblestone streets. The checkpoint was manned and its gate down as he exploded through the wooden postern, scattering the Nazi jack-booted soldiers. A highspeed chase began, with shots ringing out and side-car motorcycles pursuing the fleeing man through winding roads and across open fields.

Before him stood a low razor wire fence, obstructing his escape to the cloud covered horizon. The man skidded to a broadside stop and looked to the dogging stalkers behind. Far ahead lay freedom, arrival blocked by a gentle grass-covered berm flanking the obstructing fence.

Shots struck the ground, ricocheting dirt up around the man. Yelling and roaring motor-bikes could be heard and would soon be upon him. He debated, his escape versus capture tormenting him.

With a blast of the motorbike, exhaust billowed from the pipes, tires spun, and the bike twisted ahead in a spray of dirt. The cycle climbed the berm, the man stopped and visualized the barricaded fence. Breathing heavily now, he unlatched and tossed his helmet in the direction of the gathering mob. Turning around he raced his motorcycle down to the foot of the knoll. With his pursuers gathering around him he blasted away up the berm, taking flight and at the vertex, clearing the fence in a beautiful crest.

He crashed down on the rear-tire, the bike zig-zagging crazily as the rider attempted to control the mechanical beast. Shots rang out from the military group now stopping their pursuit at the fence. The man lifted his front tire off of the dirt road in victory and sped away to safety.

The group of white-coated physicians and nurses stood around the foot of the hospital bed like a menagerie of pale birds of prey. It was morning rounds, the collection gathering to manage patients.

The intern presented the case for the assembly. He was a man with roughly tossed straw-colored hair and three-day facial growth. Mike Nelson, MD was dressed in a green surgical scrub suit, wrinkled white coat, and red, loafer type tennis shoes. He looked to a note-card and began presenting.

“Maurice . . . or Maury . . . Latinsky is a 37-year-old white male with GRID.”

“AIDS, or at least HIV, let’s use the correct term, Michael.” The urologic surgeon chief resident, Tara Patel, spoke up correcting the intern. She was a tallish woman dressed in the uniform of the day, white coat and scrubs. Black piercing eyes and a short cut black head of hair stylized the leader of the group. GRID, or Gay-Related Immune Disease, was the first term given to the HIV/AIDS disease in the early 1980s. It was 1983 and the modern term of HIV/AIDS was beginning to be used.

Mike continued. “He’s now a week after a left nephrectomy and drainage of a tuberculous renal and perinephric abscess.” The patient had a kidney tuberculosis abscess, related to his AIDS condition, treated with surgical removal of the kidney.

Maurice lay in his bed, soaked white sheets scattered around his feet. He began thrashing about the bed in the midst of a fever-induced rigor. Tara spoke up. “Does he have a fever, Michael?”

The intern snapped up the bedside clipboard hanging on the foot of the bed. “His temp is recorded as 103? Let’s see what it was after I saw him this morning, just fifteen minutes ago. He was afebrile.” Mike took his presentation seriously, upset that he missed the man’s fever. He looked at Tara with an embarrassed look.

“These AIDS fevers spike like that Michael,” referring to the tendency of AIDS patients to have sudden fevers.

Mike seemed relieved. As an intern his job was to know everything on the urology service before anyone else. He was a good, solid, hardworking fellow who graduated from USC school of medicine, now a surgery intern at the University Medical Center.

“Look at the perspiration on his forehead, that shaking, it’s a rigor, a shaking chill from fever. Some Tylenol, he definitely needs some Tylenol!” Tara stepped to the bedside. She gently wiped the man’s bald head with a tissue.

Maurice was awake suddenly, snarling a loud growl. He opened just his left eye, revealing a green suspicious eyeball, glaring at the woman. The group stepped back in fear, as the man jumped up, standing on the siderail of the hospital bed and barking like a hound. He eventually began to speak. “Krauts . . . goons. They’re everywhere, Freddie!”

The intern grabbed the man’s waving arm. He moved to his side and gently led him to sit back on the bed. “Freddie’s not here Mr. Latinsky.” He turned to the group and quietly said: “Freddie’s his partner.”

“He’s been drinking his urine Dr. Patel. I took away his urinal this morning. I think he is really thirsty!” Sarah was a neatly dressed attractive nurse. She had stepped forward that morning with this disturbing piece of information.

“You’re kidding Sarah? He has been NPO for a week now.” Realizing the truth before the nurse could answer, NPO being nothing per oral, Tara went on. “Can we feed him?” She questioned the group. “Are you thirsty, Mr. Latinsky? She moved to the patient, examined his abdomen and left flank incision. Using her stethoscope, she listed to the man’s belly. “He has adequate bowel sounds. Michael, let’s start him on full liquids.” Mike made a quick note on his clipboard.

Maury seemed more awake; his rigor now passed. He smiled a sly smile and lay back in his bed. “I thought the goons were after me, Dr. Tara.”

“Goons? Whatever do you mean, Mr. Latinsky?”

“You know, Goons . . . krauts. They were after me. I got away.” The man smiled a knowing smile, his mouth full of red swollen gums. He was quite wasted; his AM weight listed on the bedside clipboard as a dwindling 87 pounds. He seemed, however, proud of an imaginary escape, apparently from the German army.

The group made its way to the hallway on their way to the next patient. They stopped for a moment to finish up with Mr. Latinsky.

“You should note his heterochromatic eyes, students. His irises are green and brown, the different colors are called heterochromatic.” Tara washed her hands quickly, drying them on a paper towel as she walked to the center of the group.

Jackson Cooper was the junior resident on the urology service. “Tara, the fact that Latinsky had TB in the left kidney, doesn’t that imply that he has TB throughout his urinary tract?”

“You know I have been researching that subject, Jackson. Stay tuned to grand rounds on Saturday. It is on urologic tuberculosis. Anyway, TB gets into the urinary tract through blood seeding. If it is in the left kidney, yes, it is theoretically in the right. The only thing that we can do is treat him with anti-tuberculosis drugs. We need infectious disease to see him.” She turned to the intern. “Michael, call ID. Describe his case. I think he should be on triple TB drugs but see what they say.” With that, the group moved on to the next patient on the busy urology service.

The man marched robustly down the hallway, dressed in a neatly tailored beige velour coat and a big green hand-tied velour bowtie. His black slacks were meticulously pressed, their black cuffs touching the shiny ox-blood polished penny loafer shoes complete with vintage coinage. He was carrying a bundle of red and pink flowers; roses, carnations and chrysanthemums. As he passed the group of physicians, he nodded quietly to the assembly and continued into Maurice Latinsky’s room.

“Why is it so dark in here, dear?” The man moved to the window, drew the curtain away waking up the room. He tossed the old wilted flowers into the trash and placed the new bundle in the glass vase. He moved to the patient and embraced the man. “Maury, why your sheets are completely soaked.”

Maury sat up on the bedside, his stick-like legs hanging out under his gown. “Freddie, I am so glad you’re here. I had that dream again.”

“The Great Escape? Are you Steve McQueen, dear?”

“Captain Virgil Hilts, the Cooler King." Maury looked down and sighed. He coughed up a wad of blood-tinged sputum and deposited it with a spit into the yellow emesis basin. Looking up at Freddie, he looked like he was about to cry. “It was so real Freddie! The goons, they almost had me this time!”

“Did you jump the fence?”

Maury coughed a rumbling cough. He stood gingerly and hugged his friend. “Yes, I was almost flying. I cleared the fence by a mile. Almost lost it on the landing, though. But I was truly flying at the end. I wish I could fly out of this place.”

“You’re so awake today, dear. You really look marvelous. Yesterday you were mumbling to yourself so much. You were in your shell and didn’t seem to know that I was here. I brought you this polaroid of your baby, Maury. Suzette just had her hair styled. She misses her daddy!” Freddie handed a small picture to the man.

Maury took the photo. He seemed unsure of who it was, a cute curly black-haired miniature poodle. A smile slowly came over his face as he realized the dog’s identity. He lay back down in bed, clutching the photograph to his chest. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment. With a struggle, he turned on his side and faced Freddie. “My mind, it’s going, Freddie! It comes and goes, sometimes I have no idea where I am.”

“It’s okay, dear. You’ll be going home very soon.”

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changingbirdpoems · 7 years

Text

poems about stefan going forward in time

sonic youth

it was 2:45 in the morning sunday morning it was two songs nestled in my ear, beat & struck with the chord of time that I keep curled inside my seventeenth rib cage, this year’s molecules. it’s east out here, but i see in every direction

eternal sin sky eyes again

falling or rising to this, the sun is broken on a mist beam… kindred, what a word, just like people who are made out of clay or something else you would use in elementary school muse

I’ll teach you to sleep

She said into concrete, baseball field lights singing at trees

It’s meditation, really Air for skin, feathers replacing hands to brush- you could be from this same bird

Who sang up that we should love each side equally, with sleepless bedroom eyes Buddhism aside, this is gentle suffering

body blue as toes, shriveled with moisture but glowing bursting out with skylines and horizons on your shoulders shuddering through daybreak, clutching to nothing jump the fence undress

using your eyes as lungs

breathe-blink, breathe-blink, breathe-blink skinned by the second

The Way We Get By

Another dappled late summer afternoon with papers in hand, golden sound waves beneath my fingertips, rising and falling with the leafy pressure of my palms- hoping you will taste like this air, nothing shining, whistles, cicadas, cigarette, honey bees braided through my clean hair, like the stillest, tallest branches of every tree in this circle of a day, tugging at my morning lily terraces like a gentle reminder of how I used to lean my arm out of the window and count each breath in french, un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf dix onze douze treize quatorze quinze seize dix-sept dix-huit dix-neuf

vingt Just waiting in the most being way possible, purple glow across parking lots, lettuce climbing out of garden beds, rustling light. End everything and begin again, remembering to stretch afterwards I can receive anything from here forward Tender sky, flailing grass, feather tucked behind one ear and pure lungs, melting ice, blue dictionaries, the way we get by firmly in hand, freckles and nothing and no one, but everything. Smooth skin fresh like soap, childhood whispering away and your eyes a song 5 minutes, 41 seconds long. Clouds beginning to realize to fly, airplanes made of twigs–

leave all your treasure behind, you need only oxygen in your lungs to float.

Your Debutante Just Knows What You Need, But I Know What You Want (a head full of pesticides)

and

old river way

silent amongst thunder, rustles in its creaking waves and breaks through every one

I can use my words my way. ambivalence no more

Red wine makes me suicidal/ Blood in glass/ My mind grows idle/

and I curl up beneath and I hold my breath and I hold yours in and I cup each hands, a Dickensian prayer

And I touch the Mona Lisa. and like a fool I mixed them and I have no sense of time. Bun nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh Well I see

Honey Please Don’t

Soaring through the keys, I sit on blankets and know what he really loves you for. But she breaks just like tiny girls, enter Saxophones

From now on I will call you Cellar Door. So touch my hand and my shirt and swallow down every liquid cure you can find.

Another 11:11 on Another Sunday Morning (a description of a surreal, visually intoxicating dream I had last night)

“When do you have to leave?”

“Oh, you know, after,” those widening eyes, the knowing giggle of rainstained grass I lead you by the hand through my mountain home, the sun ricocheting through yellow green rooms and sheds, moss beneath bare feet, like therapy.

Your fish-blue eyes darting, feeling everything, content in your five senses, your biology, softly giving the laws of nature your small redeeming glance. You know already that we will be sleeping in a Spirit Ditch. Small talk with my father, and we explore into a basement reminiscent of trashy middle school fantasy. Subtle hands, featherless, at my waist, my neck, brushing and gone, some salvation across a Western-set sun, and a kiss beneath my ear.

Has-been fireworks strewn on sidetables, tumultuous furniture; we immediately acknowledge an abandoned silence in this space, with the soft impact of hand on hand.

Becoming a force beyond a presence, your arm turns my body in place. We in your motion turn and you may move us. Three words released, convictionless, significant, searching, bare, unexpected.. Not out of the blue; some warmer color: “I love you.” Your words like a rumbling resonating electric guitar solo soaring over highways, cathartic, a blanket or sheet of static and pounding, threading nothing and I think of songs as you press in, a rolling pin without a coat of flour, pulling me in your motion, moving me, Gentle Brother “Will you still mean that in the morning?” Because that is the mark. Some movie-scene answer of always meaning it, and I know exactly where you are. You have adapted to the mountains, with so many places left to go. You have forgotten your restlessness in my little shoulder touches, my kingdom.

We will never show sleeve but for when we show arm, because we are good men and Luciana is lost.

I brought you to this house as a partner in crime, fellow renegade, to dip into lakes and leap down stone thousands of miles high. We sit in the bright, lampless basement of broken glass and blue mattresses, and then you are somewhere else, but this makes every sense. A girl walks in and suddenly she shows me television in the absence of your eyes of blue; I wait for the men who want to rule the world. She needs to record something, and I direct her towards the box of VHS. Her pixie hair and sullen face suggest she’s not alone; soon enough a party seeps in. I only wanted moss. You return looking for me, become spellbound by the lights and heroin, and watch with an arm melting into mine. We stand in real-time together as the party becomes color streaks around us Buzzes to us: Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthly-gross conceit Smother’d in errors, feeble, shallow, weak The folded meanings of your words’ deceit. Against my soul’s pure truth why labour you

To make it wander in an unknown field? Are you a god? would you create me new? Transform me then, and to your power I’ll yield. We are princes in the galaxy that spans from where they are to where we are now. And then we return to light. In a simple country room. “Will you still mean it in the morning?” But I crawl in. It is thyself, mine own self’s better part, mine eye’s clear eye. Gently, with the minutes, we are air, too real, everything I knew was beneath and above.

as though, if you touch gently enough, you’ll believe you don’t have fingers tendrils of nothing seeping out of sea silence evaporating

like haiku is breath (marble binocular eyes) like you are exhale my palms melt to milk I feel your quiet shaking me awake; last touch.

“im not concerned with Love and law. im not saying these words to impress you. i will die alone but that in itself is destiny. i need you to Know.”

Honey & Gravel I laughed and I don’t care I love sin

the fact that you are married-

sleep

I burn to touch everything with a heart of darkness

but some things make me pure (the one I really need) Linger on because what the fuck are we here for anyway

but to feel that emptiness, but to convince Somebody that we are nothing. Don’t forget astronomy, honey, please don’t. As if we are here.

I don’t care about any destiny What is is is is and destiny doesn’t care about me, daytripper, nighttripper, mindsoul nothingness

WHAT are mirrors made to do, and why does my mouth crave everything So who would I be if I didn’t want you inside

I mean that with incredible writhing warmth

is is is pure pure pure Children of cathartic silence, soar across me

feel me into earth I will never Know anything but mountains so give me nothing that is not green and touch touch touch touch no, shhhhhhhh Jimmy the strings of everything, and destiny on a wheel of Jesusblood

my entire network of matter is there already the way you should be held Nobody Has Eyes so I do not care except for the muscles throughout my frame who remind me to crawl in Crawl in like something that once learned to fly

FLY

everything I knew was beneath and above crawl inside me

fly inside me if you have a voice (I am the sun, I am the air) You can break your molecules apart by sheer will.

Let Me Play It

When morning is like the sugary sensation of wing-bone ripping the delicate flesh of my shoulder bones, there is a readiness, a readiness to let me in, let me be here, and count the curvatures of my spine into the cigarette-strewn robin blue paneling beneath even water

My Sweet Lord, somewhere nowhere eyes, parting hands and lips, wounds, wing-membrane and tender ginger headaches sprinkling spices in my hair, sandalwood oil between my fingers, sex and absynthe and disfiguring, luminous heroin like levitation and you the patron saint of travellers, or the first Catholic martyr stoned to death, but who would not feel so alone if everybody must Palm to palm, you breathe nothing like I do, a separate anatomy and chemistry: I a bird You a feather, borne out on nothing, brahman nirvana heaven darkness making pure even sorrow, granulated and unadulterated, white opium of mutual understanding, two bird cages wired together, doors swinging wide open

hear me make a noise I have felt your ears and know they received sound once

choosing not to hear is just to break me, is just blue swirling forget

you felt everything in the pale whites of your eyes linger on, hear me

There’s the part that loves, and the part that still loves

There’s the line folded, twisted, the möbius strip, the breath

Color flowing with shape, sound, taste interchangeable guitar strings, warming air, pain unacknowledged, and being pulled by my center to all the things I would like to be a part of.

There’s whom we love, and whom we still love

One the heart, one the hand

My lost muse below the blanket of chemicals, I remember you The pure messiah, a field by the road, a man-made lake We jumped the fence and took off our clothes Songs of honeysuckle and time desperate hopes in rhyme It broke me in two my fickle prophet My salvation, the one

from days long gone

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