#lesson is: we all make silly mistakes due to inattentiveness

[chia-chalk]

If you saw my last post(the villponia doodle) and notice it’s a tiny bit different now it’s because I quickly realized I 1: forgot to add the stripes on Vill-V’s sleeve and 2: in my tired state while making it yesterday night I totally missed that I drew one extra finger😭 so I had to edit it😭😭

[discordofsound]

Done. If you are one of the people who followed me to keep up to date with my mods, I'm sorry to let you know that I'll no longer be making updates on Tumblr. I am a mod author who's worked on all sorts of mods, primarily helping others fix their own mods, but I have a few that I can call my own, just not publically released. Yet. These past several weeks have been tough for me. If you're unaware, there's a nationwide shortage of Adderal in the United States, so it's one of the necessary medications I need to function on a semi-normal level. I take a LOT of medications due to being a victim of CSA/CA/SA/R, and other diagnosed illnesses I've been fighting. And, if you're genetically female and have inattentive ADHD that went undiagnosed because it used to be a boy's only syndrome, which we now know is not the case, then you can relate when your brain and eyes aren't on the same playing field. Sometimes missing sentences, or chapters in books, always forgetting names, dates, and times even if you were told it one minute ago, having low/no motivation for work and fun, easily getting overwhelmed, and the constant fear of rejection and being far too hard on yourself. None of that is fun, and I will never understand the romanticization of ADHD by others. I have a few things that really bring me joy, modding being one. Another is the study of entomology. Bugs. It really brightens up my day seeing bug posts, especially people handling safe insects with care and respect. Well, one such post came across my feed the other day and I was just all excited because I, being in the US, found two of those insects quite randomly. It was a real treat and I did a lot of reading on them and kept them for a short time before returning them to the wild. Except... this was an insect that looked nearly identical to the one I had found. Mind you, it was late at night, I am losing my eyesight (which scares me), and my unmedicated brain did not see any tags at the time. Well, it's very, VERY common to misidentify insects when they tend to mimic each other, and I'm always ok with correcting any information with accurate updates. Except... the comment and tags from the poster before me, Endivinity, were less than... kind... in their response to my post. In fact, the tone came across as demeaning, which is a bit of a gut punch since I've been a fan of their Deathclaw artwork for a few years now. Sadly, that's no longer the case. I try to be courteous to others in the way that I interact with them, and we all make silly mistakes, but their admonishment for me not "reading their tags" really can't be taken as any other context but "you didn't read MY tags, are you stupid?" Well, no, I have a developmental disability that impacts my daily life, and without meds, it's 5x worse. Sorry for not seeing your tags? I guess I was under the false pretense that Tumblr was more understanding and inclusive to people with disabilities, and the way we spoke to each other reflected the fact that many of us here have been abused/discriminated against outside of the online world. Who wants to perpetuate that? Easy mistake since people still find the mask of anonymity emboldening. But, it's not really what I'm interested in seeing or engaging with. I'm almost 40 and still trying to heal from trauma, so I'm going to take this interaction as a lesson. I'm still going to work on my mods, but I probably won't post updates here any longer. I'll figure out where eventually lol. Thanks to everyone who was following me to keep abreast of my projects, you guys rock.

[danked-piccolo-shit]

Aizawa x Student!Reader ( NSFW )

/!\ Warning /!\ Mention of NSFW while studying, private lessons kink, and underage stuff. Sorry for the mistakes if you find any 👐

...Tick....Tock...

"... If we know that C and D are perpendicular to E, what can we deduce from the lines C and D ? "

...Tick....Tock...

" Hmmm.... :/ "

These days, private lessons seemed to last an eternity for Aizawa. He knew what he was doing was wrong. But he couldn't help it.

You were a new student who was struggling to keep your grades decent. He heard of you quite often before having the chance of actually meeting you. You were... cute. And seemed as sweet as what the others teachers told him so about you. You weren't a problem child, actually, you were quite the opposite of it. The real problem was your ability to focus and remember your classes correctly.

You have had a lot of tutors in the past, but they all failed to help you grade up. On the contrary, they only helped to confuse you even more. Even when you thought you had finally understood something, once you were in front of the control sheet, you lost all your means. You had long since given up hope when Aiwawa came to find you at the end of the day, just when you were ready to go home. Something about you was attracting him, and although he knew full well how forbidden to have feelings for a student was, he had been willing to take the risk to help you.

At first, you didn't think having him as a tutor would change anything. But oh how wrong you were ! It tooks some times, but your grades finally went up after a month, and you couldn't be more happy about it. And now you were there, sitting cross-legged on a cushion in front of your professor, working on a small table just before your big maths test, tomorrow morning.

" Come on, (Y/N) we revised that yesterday, don't tell me you already forgot ? " The brunette said, smiling at the view of your struggling face. How adorable you can be for this man, you have no idea...

He succumbed to your charm, although you never did anything special to seduce him. Shota was a man who knew how to hide his emotions very well, so you couldn't guess that his usual tired look now hid a touch of lust as he kept staring at you.

He just couldn't get this idea out of his mind, recently... And what an idea ...

" W-Well ... I haven't forgotten, it's just that ... "

...There, now, to offer you a break, so that he no longer have to confront your grimacing face, which proved him that you were trying to remember despite your bad memory. An offer to let go for just a moment, just to bring your adorable shorty back into his field of vision ~

" Thaaaaat ? " He asked, already half drowning in his fantasies once more.

That, in a moment of inattention, and while trying to raise himself up from his cushion, he makes you fall on the carpet "by accident"... That by wanting to make sure that you are well, he went to put a hand on your thigh ...

" Aah, it's somewhere in my head, I know it's there, but it doesn't wanna come out ! "

...He would have let his hand go up slowly, admiring your face tense with an embarrassed expression that would only make you more adorable to his eyes. And when his fingers finally had reached this fabric already too thin for his taste, he would have deposed a small kiss on your forehead to reassure you, before letting his hand go further and slip under your short...

" Don't give me the answer ! It will come back, I just need to focus, I just couldn't have forgotten it like that ! "

He would then have prepared your body by stimulating your clit, stealing you kisses in between, before slipping a finger in your wet entrance.

" Nngh... "

And a second one, once you'd be sufficiently excited.

" It's some basic stuff, I know it ! Or at least, I should... "

To finally brush everything off the table. No more of all those bulky books or some exercises sheets. The only thing he wanna do, now, was you.

" I...I give up ! Sorry... So, what was the answer to this one ? "

He'd have then laid you on the table, now cleared of all superfluous objects, before carefully removing your clothes and sliding between your legs.

No worries, tho, Shota will be sweet with you. You were so shy, after all, it'll probably be your first time ~ He'd go slowly at the beginning, letting you adjust to his size by thrusting gradually into your pussy.

Then, when you'd have started to take some pleasure, he'd have adopted a faster pace, gripping your hips firmly as he'd kept going deeper and deeper inside of you. God, your facial expressions when being fucked must be so delectable to contemplate, he thought.

" Huuumm... Sir ? "

Unfortunately for you, your teacher wasn't listening to you anymore, already captivated by the curves of your body. Sometimes he had moments of absence during your private lessons, just like this. Of course, you saw how tired he looks every day, so telling yourself over and over that it was only due to fatigue was justified. Silly you...

Because for him, you were still moaning under his touch, on the exact same table where you were doing your exercises right now. And so continued his little fantasy, without you even noticing it... Where he was still ravaging you from the inside, and where you were actually begging for it...

Your moans would have sounded like music in his ears, and, taken by frenzy, he would have finally decided to really take you, curving your spine way more than what your body normally could bear while making your chest bounce like crazy. God, you didn't even wore a bra, today. You were truly provoking him, while acting so pure and innocent at the same time. Maybe that's what you wanted, after all ~

" Sir ? "

He'd have took your tits, kissed them, licked them, while continuing making you cry for mercy... And finally... Finally, in an ultimate instant of pleasure, he'd have grabbed you by your hair and making you face him, so he could had stole you one last kiss, which would've came to smothers both of your orgasms while his semence would have slowly started flowing in your belly.

" SIR !!!! "

He jumped out of his comfortable seat, almost knocking his head against a nearby furniture in the action.

" Oh, sorry, I didn't... "

" It's alright. I was the one being uncareful " responded your teacher in what seemed a disappointed tone. " You probably wanted the answer, that's it ? "

" Yes, please " You said, regaining your smile but at the same time feeling guilty for yelling at your teacher despite how tired he was and how patient he always was with you.

Patient, indeed, he was. His erected cock rubbing against his clothes started to be a real pain...

" When two lines are perpendicular to a same third one, then they are parallel. No more complicated than that "

" Argh...! I knew it ! It was in my head, I swear ! "

" You know it's gonna be in your tomorrow test, are you ? "

" I-I know ! I'm sure I'm gonna remember it at the right time! "

" I hope for you. After all, you have well remembered the essential, so I guess you'll make it. "

" I-I hope too ! My grades in maths are just terrible :/ "

" You stress again, (Y/N) "

" I know, but I can't help it ! "

You were always so freaked out the day before an exam, another one of "what's making your charm" for that man, really. He really wanted to relax you and makes you forget about your grades for good...

" Overstressing yourself isn't good for studying. You can close your book for now... "

...And he already had a good idea of ​​how...

" Let's take a break "

__________

That's it ! Thanks for reading, like always, I hope you've enjoyed it, and take care pal 👍

P.S / Little anecdote, the math exercise used in this fic was a thing that I really had on an exam, when I was still in school. I miserably failed this test, but somehow, I still remember the answer after all this years while I wasn't able to do it for the test back then. Damn it...

[thekrazykeke]

This is so much fun, I swear before Jesus! As a big family person myself, writing about the reader’s family is cathartic. Mainly because families spill the tea in my stories more than the main character ever will 😙🤣

Boop.

It’s easy to get caught up with Erik, to be swept up in his energy. Although you’d tried to maintain a ‘slow and steady wins the race’ mentality when you’d agreed to be his girl, somehow, someway, the two of y’all just dived headfirst into a relationship. 

More often than not, you ended up staying the night over at his crib and you didn’t always use the excuse of wanting to play video games to go see him. He surprised you by how affectionate and touchy-feely he is, though you tried to get used to it and reciprocate in kind, you had been on your own for a good stretch and some habits are hard to break. It didn’t irritate him (so much) anymore and he even took it with good grace, seeming to make it his mission to wrap an arm around your waist that more often, kiss the back of your neck, or pull you into his lap, etc.

Nadia noticed the change in y’all dynamic and while she said that she approved, there was the feeling that she was distancing herself from you, which hurt, if you were being honest, since the two of y’all had hit it off instantly and been flatmates for over two years. 

However, you weren’t the type to beg anyone to be friends with you if they didn’t want to. 

The independent streak that your mother had nurtured in you your whole life wasn’t disappearing anytime soon, if at all, and occasionally, it clashed with Erik’s habit of spoiling you with too much of, well, just about everything: clothes, shoes, hair, nails, etc. Hell, he had paid off your portion of the rent for six months (you’d managed to talk him out of paying off the entire year just barely). While you would like to say that you were happy, and most of the time you truly are, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Girl, you stupid.” Breanna, your older cousin, stated bluntly. “This nigga is payin’ bills, showering you with gifts, and, wait, is the dick good?”

You swirled the spoon in the bowl of ice cream, unable to meet her eyes. “So good.” 

“Did you hit ya head or somethin’? I should walk out of this cafe right now. You called me alllllll the way out here with a SOS text message and I’m thinkin’ it’s a serious situation.” Giving you the stink eye, she stabbed her slice of pie viciously. “Bitch, you is living the dream.” 

“It is a serious situation.” Ignoring her ‘girl, stop it!’ look, you purse your lips, “Like, I don’t know where he works, what he does for a living. He told me a little bit about his childhood, but...” 

“Y/N, baby cousin, I love you like a sister, and because I care about you so much, I’m going to say something that might hurt your feelings.” Breanna comments, putting down her fork.

“Oh, damn. Lay it on me then, cuz.”

“Your current boo is not your stank ass ex, Mitchell. Girl, you need to celebrate, apparently yo pussy so good, you got a hotep willing to be a househusband. I mean, damn. Give me lessons!” Expressively, she gesticulated as her voice gained an octave. Customers glanced in y’all direction and you laughed nervously before glaring at her. “Sorry, sorry.” Breanna apologized, tone lowering again. “Does he know about Mitchell?”

“Can we change the subject from that whack ass nigga?” You complain.

Mitchell Sanders had been your high school sweetheart and the two of y’all had dated a year and a half through college. During the final year of your relationship, he had been increasingly short tempered and critical of everything about you. While you were young, dumb and in love, you weren’t too sprung that you didn’t love your melanin skin and his passive-aggressive, caustic comments about ‘if you were a little lighter...’ only frustrated and depressed you enough to eventually dump his ass. Not even two months later, he started dating Cassandra Wynters, a preppy white soccer player. Last you’d heard about the happy couple, they’d been racing for the nearest courthouse as she was pregnant.

“No, because that nigga got yo silly-dilly ass thinkin’ that yo future baby daddy is a no good asshole wit a white girlfriend on the side.” 

“Oh God. You know what? I’ma head on out of here.” You try to flag down the waiter, only Breanna kicks you in the shin. “Ow, bitch! Mercy!” You hiss through your teeth. “The hell?”

"You such a baby.” She rolled her eyes. “Sit wit me for a few extra minutes before I gotta go back home.” Breanna instructed sternly, in the way that only family members really could command somebody to do anything. “This the only time I get some personal time away from Miguel and Tiana.”

“Oooh, how are your kids?” You pick up your spoon, the melted sweet dripping off the end and back into the bowl. 

Snorting, her tone is fond as she says, “Bad as hell as usual. Dre’s watching them right now so it’s all good. They always behave for they daddy.” Mushy expression changing quickly, she pointed a finger at you accusingly, “Girl, don’t even try and change the subject, though! You need to communicate with ya man so that he can address these issues early in the relationship. I will not stand by and let you sabotage yourself because you scared that you feelin’ this dude a little too much.” 

“Whatever, Bre. I’m done talkin’ about this for today.” 

Even though you said that, it lingered at the back of your mind the rest of the day. Work was routine so you didn’t mess up due to inattentiveness, thank goodness, and you couldn’t talk to Nadia since right now the two of y’all were in some strange type of friendship/flatmate limbo. 

"Wassup?” That’s the greeting Erik gave you before giving you a peck on the lips. “...Ay, you good?” He asked, pulling back a little to scrutinize you carefully. 

‘Fuck, he’s figured it out!’ Reaching a hand up, you place it against the nape of his neck, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Mm, better now. I mean, heh, why wouldn’t I be?”

Score one for being overcompensating. 

Eyebrows raising, for a heart stopping moment you thought he’d call you out on your bullshit, but Erik just shook his head. “...Okay. Good day at work then. I can work wit that. I’m sayin’ though, you wanted to check out that restaurant on McMillan and 4th West Ave? I made a reservation if you still wanna go...?” 

“The restaurant with the skyline view of the city and that famous seafood chef that cooks his food fresh every day?” Eyes lighting up, you launch yourself into his arms and he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. “Yes, yes, yes! Please!” Hands framing his face, you kissed him again, this time more intently, feeling his fingers squeezing your thighs. “And afterwards we can come back here. You let me say thank you again, properly?I might even get on my knees.”

Erik set you down on your feet. Bodies brushing up against each other, there’s no mistaking the feeling of him being half hard. “Don’t start that shit. Teasing a nigga before we go out in public.” Popping you on the ass, he snorted at the squeal you let out. “Hurry up. That reservation at seven thirty.” 

You gaped at him momentarily, turning to leave, “Why didn’t you say that at first?!”

“I’m tellin’ you now!” 

Last minute as it was, the two of y’all showed up literally dressed to slay. All eyes were on the both of you. The question in all of those pale faces were ‘How can these negroes afford to eat here?’, if not phrased exactly like that, the point still stood. 

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care for once. 

It didn’t matter how Erik knew the chef personally and that they shook hands as if old friends, or how the table he’d booked was strategically placed right near the area where the chef worked and you wouldn’t miss a thing while he cooked. 

For tonight, you had decided to let those fears and anxieties go. To enjoy this date with ya man.

Then the weirdest thing happened. 

“Y/N?” A nasally, high pitched voice called. "Oh my God, Y/N! Hey, hi!” Waving excitedly is a slightly plump, but cute waitress. Handing off a tray of drinks to another waiter, she hurried over to the table. “It’s been so long.”

“Uhh, baby?” Erik is understandably confused and so are you.

“I’m sorry. Do I...know you?”

“Oh! Oh, duh!” Slapping her forehead, she went through a quick demonstration of your alma mater’s hand sign. “It’s me! Cassandra!” She added, when it became clear that you were still drawing a blank.

“O-Ooooh, Cas. Wooooow, girl. Hey.” Your greeting lacked enthusiasm and Erik raised an eyebrow at you. You valiantly ignored this as you grasped for something nice to say. “Lookin’ good, girl. Shoot, I ain’t even recognize you.”

“It’s okay.” Heavily, she dropped into a seat next to Erik and yourself after grabbing a chair from another table. “I know I put on a few pounds since college and I cut my hair.” 

“Nooo!” Waving your hands frantically, you shake your head, “It’s not that. It’s just...I thought you’d be on TV, living your dream as a soccer player and everything.” Erik ‘coughed’ into his fist. “Sorry! Cassandra, this is my man, Erik. Baby, this is Cassandra Wynters.”

He ignored her outstretched hand. “And we on a date. So...maybe get back to your job?” 

As if you’d only just recognized her uniform, you gasped, hoping it’s believable. “Oh damn! I didn’t mean to take up all your time with my chit-chatting. I don’t want you to get in trouble, and we are on a date, so... Rain check. I’ll have the, um, maitre d’ give you my contact info.” 

Cheeks flushed, she raised slowly from her position, “Right. So sorry, that was rude and inappropriate, my just running over here.” Laughing awkwardly, a little piggish snort escaped and you sipped at your drink to avoid laughing in her face. “I’ll catch you later then.” 

“Yep. Ta-ta!” Dismissing her, you turn your full attention onto Erik once again, relaxing only when she walked away. 

“That musta felt good, huh?” Erik is excellent at reading your body language and cues. You grin evilly and he snorted. “I can’t believe she just ran her ass over here like y’all was in a crowded subway station or something.”

Your shake your head and thank the waiter who refills the glasses while another takes the extra chair away again. “Some people have no home training!” You state in your best posh voice. 

Placing a hand over his chest, he played along, effecting a ‘shocked’ tone, “Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?”

It was very likely that y’all made all those white folks big mad with how y’all were laughing and carrying on. Enjoying the food and each other’s company. And when it came time to leave, Erik’s hand on your waist is a warm comfort as you catch sight of Cassandra being scolded by the maitre d’, or her boss, or whoever, at the corner of your eye. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other and you’re the first to look away, tilting your head up to kiss at Erik’s jaw, an action that caused him to startle briefly before he captured your lips in a kiss that toed the line between being indecent and sweet.  

Maybe its God, or karma, or something else telling you to stop questioning every single thing about the mystery surrounding this man, that when it was time to know, he would tell you. To enjoy being the central focus of someone’s attention and who actually, truly, wants to be with you and only you. That everything would work out. Whatever the lesson to be learned here, the thought, ‘I am so blessed.’ Kept reverberating through your brain on a loop. And yeah, you gave that dimple cheeked fool some road head while on the way back to his crib. 

Can you really be blamed? 

[sidrisa-blog]

Power and Magic

Read it here on AO3

Pairings: Loki x Reader and the lightest Sif X Thor

Chapter: 13/104 Magic

Warnings: the usual: sex, death, and violence with light smatterings of misogynoir

Summary: The princes come with their exalted Father arriving amidst a hail of pomp and pageantry all parties would rather forgo. This is war, where men die, their blood purchasing land and peace until it's time for more men and more blood. But your mother adheres to the old rules of hearth and hospitality. The Lords of Asgard must be given their due despite the grim business precipitating their arrival. It is too bad they don't deserve it. There is nothing to recommend him, Loki, Prince of Asgard. He is rude and cold and childish. You try to find some merit in him. You find none. Exactly none. But maybe, after trial and tribulation,

You will.

That pain in your heart dulls when you later see Se’risa dressed in trousers and a tunic, her servant’s smock folded neatly on your bed.

“Mistress Aleene says I don't have to work for her anymore and that Queen Frigga granted me permission to go to school with the noble kids.”

She's unhappy, obvious in the way her bottom lip pouts. She fights her tears and loses when you nod, hiding your bare wrist from her behind your back.

“Princess! Please don't get in trouble for me!”

Your heart breaks when she bows, hand over her heart mimicking what you did for Loki. She’s too young for such things, you think, swearing loyalty or fealty. “Please! Don't trouble yourself for me. I'm just a dirty servant!”

“Oh ‘Risa please don't do that.”

If you had the strength you would have lifted her from the floor into your arms, but after a day’s worth of business and errands you can barely keep upright.

Still, you try. Kneeling and putting her back on her feet so the two of you are face to face.

“You aren't a servant anymore, you hear me? You’re not a servant. You’re a princess just like me.”

“I am not! You are the princess and princesses shouldn’t waste their time or their…”

Se’risa squirms in your embrace to pull at your arm. She holds it between you, staring at your naked wrist like a murder weapon, eyes welling with tears. “Princesses shouldn’t waste their precious things on dirty servants!”

You laugh, it’s your first reaction. Nothing’s funny, you’re just amused she found out so quickly. Or Aleene purposefully told the girl to inflict unnecessary damage. But Se’risa’s face breaks when you laugh, possibly mistaking it as directed at her. Damage control.

“That’s what you’re worried about? A silly bracelet? Do you know how many of these I have?”

One. Only one.

“One for every day of the week. Two for holidays. Three for feast days.”

Se’Risa sniffs. “You’re lying.”

You are, Loki thinks, secreted behind the semi-closed door to your room. And a poor one at that.

He came here after his meeting with his mother. He hadn’t settled on what exactly his intentions were, unable to choose between kissing or annoying you senseless, both scratching the same (well not exactly the same) primal itch in his brain.

He hesitates when he hears the child's blubbering, stopping long enough to go from hesitation to eavesdropping.

He's seen the sum total of the jewels you escaped with. You’re no where close to having something different for every day of the week. And aside from your crown, that bracelet was your finest piece.

“No it's true.” You're too deep in this hole so you keep digging, hoping to find another escape. “One for every day. So it's nothing, especially when compared to you. I have so many bracelets, they mean nothing, and I have only one you, so you mean everything.”

You dab her eyes with your sleeve. “Chin up. Princesses don't stare at the floor, okay?”

Se’risa perks instantly, beads clinking softly with the movement.

“Before I go to lessons tomorrow will you help me with my hair? And I can pick out your bracelet for the day?”

Your heart drops, she just won’t let it go. So you double down, hoping the hole you’re digging won’t cave in on top of you. “Of course.”

Shit.

You don't hear Loki’s soft chuckle from outside your door, nor hear him tell a servant to bring you to his chambers in hour. You're still focused on what tale you're going to tell this girl in the morning, torn between admitting the truth and faking illness as an excuse to avoid getting dressed for the day. Before you have the chance to decide, Loki’s servant knocks.

“My Lady, Lord Loki requests your presence.”

Se’risa makes a face. “I don't like him. He says mean things.”

“He does, but they don't hurt when he says them.”

“Is it because you like him?”

You clear your throat hoping to avoid answering but the girl did witness you kissing him so…

“No, it's because when he says them he doesn't make the words hurt. If he ever does, trust me I'll let him know.”

“But you do like him?”

“Admittedly…”

“Why?”

Oh Hel. You don't even know exactly why, how are you going to explain that to a child?

“I'll tell you when I return.”

Se’risa sneers, makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “Fine.”

**

If your room is palatial by your admittedly narrow standards, then Loki’s rooms span the length and breadth of the world. You could quarter your Cavalry here with their horses and half the palace guard alongside.

“This way.”

The servant leads you down corridors of marble and stone into a sitting room set with dinner for two.

A small round table, lit with crystal candelabras. The plates are gold, covered with domes to keep the food under them warm. A decanter of wine sits ready to pour, two cut crystal glasses ready to receive.

The silverware is actual silver, not that you could tell but it's a damn good contextual guess. You count the knives again wondering why there's a need for more than one before you…

Your hand strikes without thinking.

Your father's dagger! He must have left it out in a moments inattentiveness and forgotten it. You snatch for it, ready to claim victory but your hand slides right through it.

“Shame on you. I'm not sure if I'm amused at your gullibility or offended that you think I'm that stupid.”

He appears in smoke as the dagger disappears into it. His magic smells like the threat of rain on a summer night, when lighting strikes but no water falls. Thor is the Thunder Prince, he sounds the noise that makes the Heavens shake. But Loki is the flash that comes just before, the one you don’t expect, the one that strikes you dead before you even hear thunder’s boom.

You're reminded, you really never forgot, how frightening he could be. But you've never been afraid of him. And you aren't now. He is deadly fearsome but has never once made you feel afraid.

He's dressed well. Black and green sleeveless tunic, long enough to touch the floor draped over a linen shirt with simple black trousers.

You look extremely pathetic by comparison. Leather trousers and a modest linen shirt. You’re dressed for riding not a dinner with a prince.

“Had I known you were inviting me to dinner, I would have dressed better.”

“Next time then, Princess.”

“Next time how about you ask first?”

You’re quick. He loves it. You don’t have to think, you respond. You two trade wit seamlessly.

“Ahh, shall I present myself to your guardian and beg her permission?” He clasps his hands in mock supplication. “Please will you let your mistress come out and play?”

“She'd only tell you no.”

“So the foal doesn't like me hmm?”

“It's precisely because you call her that, that she doesn't. You know her name”

“I prefer yours, Princess.”

He wins this round, but only because you let him, desiring to let the sound of your name like that sink into your ears, uninterrupted by your witty retort.

“Well I’m here, my Lord.”

He escorts you to your table for two, pulls out your chair, pours your wine.

“I half expected this plate to be full of hay you know,” It’s not. It’s some delicious roast boar.

“If this is not to your liking I’m sure we can find you sweetgrass in the stables.”

He’s surprised when your eyes light up, wide and wonder-filled. “You’re people don’t really eat--?”

“No! Half-wit. The stables. Walking is overrated anyway. Put me on a horse and I’ll be just fine. Four pairs of legs are better than two.”

“You aren’t strong enough for it.”

It’s not a question, he knows. He can tell by looking at you.

“I know. But, I will be.”

After dinner, he leads you from the sitting room, past overstuffed chairs and overstuffed bookshelves and into his inner chambers. There’s an armor stand against a far wall, a great gold and horned helm sitting atop it. Staves and scepters lean against the walls. Weapons of very type and shape lay strewn about the floor. He’s carved a very narrow empty space, pushed back the creeping horde of his things to make space enough to navigate through.

His trinkets are fascinating, he’s like a magpie, travelling out among the lands and bringing back the best treasures of the realm.

This is Loki’s heart, you realize. This place. You’re here in his heart and it beats with all the magic in room.

Something snags at you, a burr or thistle pulling at your consciousness. Why are you here?

You ignore the feeling, choosing to run your fingers over his collection of ceremonial knives.

In the middle of the display, your dagger sits in a place of honor. You purposefully ignore it, shooting at your host a glare that makes him laugh.

“That one is actually yours, go on, take it.”

You cluck your tongue. “Fool me once.”

He isn’t lying. That one is the genuine article. He reaches around you, bringing him close enough to kiss and picks up the knife with his hand, it doesn’t pass through him.

You grumble a string of curses in your tongue and the common one, so foul even Loki’s scandalized.

But he laughs, it's light, birdlike. It doesn’t rumble the belly or throb in your blood the way your father’s laughs did. His sits high, on unreachable branches, ready to fly away if disturbed. He doesn’t truly laugh often, so when he does, it doesn’t linger, like snatches of birdsong. There is no ice in him when he laughs unguardedly.

Just magic.

You’re quiet for a long time as you explore his things. You ask him questions and he answers. Where this came from, what does that do. As he answers your questions, he tries to figure the answer to his own. Why did he bring you here? There’s the superficial answer, better put, the lie for why you’re here. But the question remains.

And you ask it.

“Why did you bring me here? Really?”

You turn to him, you want to touch him but you don’t, unsure if you’ve earned that privilege yet. “Dinner was lovely and this place is, it’s magic. And as wonderful as all this is, I don’t think you brought me here to show me your toys.”

He didn’t.

“Close your eyes.”

That wasn’t the answer you were looking for.

“What do you want from me?” You persist.

“For you to close your eyes, horse girl.”

“Loki. Tell me.”

“Princess, trust me.”

He hasn’t given you a reason to. He doesn’t expect you to. But you take a deep breath and close your eyes anyway, gifting it to him, making him question everything all over again.

She deserves better.His mother echoes in his head.

The spell is quick, over and done in a few heartbeats.

“Open.”

There is a collection of jewelry in front of you. Bracelets. Several velvet cushions full. One for every birthstone. One for every precious gem.

“What? What are these.”

He takes your hand, the one missing the braided loop and guides it to the piece in the top most, farthest left corner. “This is for Firstday.” He moves it over to the right. “And Secondday.” He moves you again. “And Thirdday.” Down the line marking the days of the week. In the second row there’s two bracelets piled on top of each other. A row below that, there are three.

“You heard me.” You gasp.

“I did. ‘One for every day.’ And so forth and so on.”

You draw your hand away from his, pull it back like he burns you. “I can’t take these.” You’re answer is quick and finite. Immutable. You will not take any of these with you. You stutter and amend yourself, trying to salvage your manners. “I mean, thank you. Thank you. This is...I’m in your debt again assuredly but I can’t.”

“Why?” No accusation or hurt in his question. It is just a question.

“This is too rich a gift Loki. I can’t take it.”

You’ll be in his debt, you’re already in his debt. This is too much kindness, and too much kindness is never offered freely.

“These kinds of things, you should give them to…”

You are the Princess of a small kingdom. Your wealth and prestige can't match that of Asgard but being royalty and a woman besides, certain universal truths will out.

Nothing is given to a Princess for free. There's always a motive, something to gain.

Back home, men and women vied for your affection. They wanted the throne next to yours or your favor which would assure them rich rewards. True friends were rare beyond the obligation of Captain and soldier. Fa’Rey--before her dagger proved you wrong--was the only one of them you really trusted.

You left no lovers behind, you're pretty sure you don't even know what that kind of love feels like. So why all this?

“You should give them to someone special. Someone who means something to you. Not me.”

One kiss ago, Loki was a stranger. He saved your life twice over, he restored Se’risa to you. He was an infuriating bastard who you couldn't stop thinking about. But he was still a stranger.

One kiss later, he still is. And you still can't stop thinking about him.

But he's still a stranger.

“You’re a stranger Loki, I don’t know anything about you and you don’t know anything about me. All I know is...that kiss was really good and I’d like more. That’s all I know. And I have no idea what’s going on in your head, if you even feel...What do you want from me, Loki?”

Everything. He wants you, to kiss you again like he did yesterday, but he’s greedy. He wants more. Loki is selfish and gluttonous, he’s had a taste and now he wants you whole. He could ask, or offer, or imply his wishes, leave his door open for you to walk through at any time and for you, his door would always be open.

But with the way you look at him, the way you trust him so earnestly, he knows it would never just stop at his bed. He’s greedy, he knows the depths of his faults. He wouldn’t stop until he’s got your heart in his jaws. And you can’t know that, you can never know that.

“She deserves better.”

“You misunderstand me, none of this is for you.”

Your heart drops, makes a new home around your ankles. “Oh.” You try to put it back in place, salvage some of your pride. “Then why?”

“You’re a poor liar. The worst in fact.”

“I don’t under--”

He interrupts you. “So here’s a bracelet. One for every day of the week. Two for holidays. Three for feast days, so you don’t have to lie to the poor little filly anymore and my reputation remains intact.”

He’s satisfied when the smile returns to your face, he’s held off the truth for a little while yet. He’ll tow the line for now as best he can, keep the beast at bay.

Your heart lifts, somewhere in the clouds now. “Why didn’t you say so.”

He forgets himself, his turmoil, the moment your lips are on his again. He simply forgets.

There’s no doubt this time as to who kisses whom. You wrap your arms around his neck, close your eyes, and it’s magic again. Magic that sparks between you like lightning. You smell rain and leather, you hear thunder in the low groan that rumbles either in his chest or yours, you can’t tell anymore.

Yes! This is what he’s craved all day. This. Just like this. You close and soft and yielding in his arms. Not too much, he warns himself. Savor this, make it last as long as you can. Maybe it will be different this time. Maybe you’ll be different this time.

He keeps you close when you part, won’t let you get too far away so that he can’t kiss you again.

“You saved my ass again.”

“And what would you have done princess, had I not?”

“I considered faking sick.”

“Keep your boasts more modest next time, or you will drain my treasury.”

You laugh and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Why didn’t you just get me my bracelet back?”

You watch him select one, thick gold leaves studded with smaller emeralds. You give him your wrist and he slides it on, fitting as though made for you.

“It’d be easy to return your bracelet to you. So I didn’t. Besides, I suspect your pride is so damned prickly you'd figure out a way to pay Aleene with another one of your jewels and I’ve got better things to do than retrieve family treasures from petty creatures like her. This is will do.”

“Yes, it will.” You echo, and you aren’t talking about the jewelry.

WHY DID WRITE THIS GARBAGE??? (That I love so freaking much it defies belief)