#Oh no I *have* become One Of Those Loki Stans just not for the usual Loki D: D: D:

[nostalgia-tblr]

send help, can no longer tell if i actually do think sylvie was right to kill that guy and break the universe or if i've just spent so long proclaiming that she did Nothing Wrong In Her Life Ever that the irony has worn off and it's become real

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Gift

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Tony says no pets in the Tower, but since when has Loki ever listened to him? Warnings: like one curse word A/N: Any Tom Hiddleston stans out there should get the Easter egg in this one :)

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

“Oh, come on, Tony! Please,” you whined for the fifth time that week. “Not even just a little one?”

“Absolutely not. It’d make a mess of the place. Not to mention that this isn’t exactly the safest place for a pet.”

“So it gets into a lab accident and we have a super dog. Not the worst thing ever,” you said, half joking, though Tony actually seemed kind of intrigued now. You changed your tactic before he got any ideas. “Besides, it won’t make a mess. I’ll train it. And not all dogs shed.”

“I guess, but someone might be allergic,” Tony countered, thinking he delivered a winning argument.

“We can get a hypoallergenic dog,” you shot back, though you’d already checked with almost everyone and no one said they were.

Tony grumbled, running out of excuses to give as to why you couldn’t get the pet you’ve been pleading for the past few months. Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to you during your time in the Tower, and you’d been pretty sure you could use that to your advantage. Sadly, though, nothing had been working. In fact, that relationship had been more of a detriment to you than anything else as you didn’t want to make him upset with you. Otherwise, you might just go out and buy the pet of your choosing. Maybe even more than one. Although, to be fair, it was Tony’s building, and he was allowing you to live here rent free, so you should probably just drop it. But you really wanted a pet, and you knew you weren’t the only one.

“Sorry, but still no.”

“Fine,” you relented with an overdramatic sigh. “For now, anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said, going back to whatever he was tinkering with before you came in.

You pouted in the lab for a bit, hoping he might change his mind, but to no avail. Eventually you slinked out and went into one of the common rooms, plopping on the couch between Peter and Bucky.

“So, how’d it go?” Peter asked after popping a handful of Skittles into his mouth.

“No luck," you responded sourly, stealing some of the colorful candy from him. “None of my strategies are working.”

“What if we tried for something smaller?” Bucky offered. “Like a gerbil.”

“I guess,” you grumbled as you flopped back in exasperation. “But we’ve had our eye on that Cocker Spaniel for a while. A gerbil just wouldn’t be the same.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You all sat in silence for a bit and watched as Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck argued about what hunting season it is, mulling over the situation. Admitting defeat seemed to be the most likely option at the moment, but you hated to just give up when you were sure there was a way to get what you wanted and not have Tony be upset with you.

“I’ve got it!” Peter suddenly shouted, bubbling with excitement. “We go and adopt it and then tell Mr. Stark that it just followed us home!”

“Except he wouldn’t let us keep it even then,” you stated, having already thought of that yourself.

“So we hide it. Simple,” Bucky chimed in. “By the time he notices, Peter will be so emotionally bonded to it, Tony wouldn’t dare take it away.”

“Great idea, Mr. Bucky,” Peter said, high-fiving him.

“Yeah, if only there weren’t cameras everywhere. Not to mention a home system that tells him everything,” you added, growing more upset at the lack of options by the minute.

You pushed up from the couch as the episode’s end was heralded by Porky Pig’s “Th-th-that’s all folks.” After waving bye to your friends, you headed to your room to brainstorm in silence. The figure lurking in the shadows didn’t even register in your mind, so you had no idea that a certain god heard your whole conversation. Not only that, he was about to fix all your problems.

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

“Mr. Loki, where are we going?” Peter inquired as he and Bucky were led into the city by the trickster god.

“All will be revealed, spiderling. I assure you.”

Bucky just shrugged when Peter looked at him, and so they continued following Loki through the busy New York streets. After hearing about your plight, he had hatched a plan to get you what you wanted. All it took was a bit of research on that infernal computer device, and he was pretty sure he’d found the right shelter. It was a far walk from the Tower, and since neither he nor his travel companions could drive, he resorted to taking the subway, an experience he’d rather not have again. Finally, they arrived at the destination, and Peter was about to burst with excitement.

“Mr. Loki!” he gasped. “This is exactly where we were looking for dogs!”

“But I have a feeling you knew that already,” Bucky said.

“Indeed,” Loki replied. “I must confess that I overheard your conversation in the common room yesterday.”

“Oh I get it now. You’re doing this for-”

“No time for speculation, we are here to get me a pet,” Loki interrupted, “Go on. After you, spiderling.”

Peter, still blissfully unaware of Loki’s true intentions, led the way into the shelter. They were greeted with the sound of happy barking and the distinct smell of dog treats. Loki had to admit, he wasn’t the biggest fan of animals. He found some to be more agreeable than others, such as a good steed, but overall he thought them to be more of a nuisance than anything else. Thor had bought a cat for Jane once, and it tore up half of his capes before he presented it to her. Loki was glad his brother kept it away from him and his belongings. Not to mention he didn’t appreciate the sheer number of similarities people said he had with felines. Dogs, however, he was fine with, so long as they were trained properly.

“Hello, how may I help...” the girl behind the front desk trailed off, her eyes going wide with excitement upon realizing who the trio was. “Y-you’re... Oh my gosh. My friends are never going to believe this! But, uh, how may I help you?”

None of the heroes were particularly comfortable with the attention and star struck gaze of the girl, so it took them a minute to get over their sheepishness. Loki looked at both his companions before realizing he would have to do the talking. He sighed but knew the look on your face would be worth it. You’d look at him the same way you had so many times before, whenever he did little things for you, whether it be rubbing your shoulders after a stressful day or brewing you a cup of tea on a chilly morning. The two of you weren’t dating, exactly, but you weren’t exactly not dating, either. Loki found himself incapable of asking you to make it official, lest it ruin what you currently had. He didn’t know what he’d do if you no longer casually held his hand or rested your head on his lap while reading in the evenings. Even though he was fairly certain you felt the same way, that last bit of doubt wouldn’t leave him alone. Besides, despite usually being quite a great thinker, he couldn’t come up with a good way to confess. He supposed that kissing you would do the trick, but he wasn’t brave enough for that, so getting you a dog would have to suffice for now.

“My friends here were looking at some of your dogs recently, and there is one that they are quite smitten with. We are here to adopt it.”

“That’s right! A Cocker Spaniel named Bobby,” Peter offered. “He hasn’t already been adopted, has he?”

“Nope!” the girl responded in a perky voice. “He’s all yours as soon as you fill out the proper paperwork.”

“Mr. Loki, are you sure about this. Mr. Stark told me I couldn’t get a dog.”

“Exactly. He told you, not me,” Loki replied, picking up a pen.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t really think he meant it just for me. I think it was more of a general kind of thing.” Loki and Bucky looked at him in exasperation for a second, wondering how he could still be so innocent, before he caught on. “Oh, ok. I get it now. Carry on.”

The three boys huddled around the page as Loki filled it out, providing Tony’s credit card as payment when the time came. It seemed appropriate, Loki thought, that Stark should have to pay for making you upset, and taking that in the most literal sense was the only somewhat acceptable way, it seemed. No longer could The God of Mischief go around stabbing those who hurt the ones he cared about. In a way, he missed the good old days, as he referred to them, but his new life led him to you, which made the rest of it fine with him, he decided, as he finished his signature with a flourish.

“There,” he declared, admiring the loop of his fancy, cursive L. “Finished.”

The girl disappeared into the back, only to return with Bobby a moment later. After giving the paperwork a quick once over, she handed the leash over to Bucky, who couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face. Peter immediately bent down to scratch the dark brown dog behind his ears.

“Who’s a good boy? You are! You’re a good boy!” he cooed.

“Spiderling, he hasn’t even done anything yet,” Loki said, somewhat perplexed, as Bobby rolled over onto his back, stopping at the god’s feet. “Though, I do suppose he is a rather good boy,” he added, an inexplicable smile tugging at his lips.

One stop at the pet store and a taxi ride later, both unknowingly paid for by Tony, they arrived back at the Tower with the newest member of their family. It wasn’t even ten minutes later that Tony strolled into the room where they were playing with Bobby. He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the dog, happily playing tug of war with Bucky.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing at the Cocker Spaniel.

“A dog,” Loki deadpanned.

“Yeah, no shit. I mean what is it doing here?”

“I adopted it. Really Stark, for a supposed genius you ask a lot of obvious questions.”

“Don’t get snippy with me, Rock of Ages,” Tony quipped back, gritting his teeth a little. “This is my Tower and I say no pets, except for maybe a goldfish.”

“Yes, this is your Tower, but it is our home, is it not? As thus, we should be allowed the simple pleasures of life, such as having a pet. After all, studies show that having a dog can reduce stress, something I’d say is rather important for people in our position.”

Tony glared for a minute, not really having a good response to that. Then he called your name, certain you were behind this.

“No, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “They had nothing to do with this. Don’t blame them.”

“That’s right,” Bucky also defended you. “It was all us.”

It was already too late, though, and you appeared in the doorway. Loki had been planning on presenting your gift to you in some cute or clever way, but all he had time to do was a magic up a bow on the pup’s head, a green one, of course. Bobby started happily yapping at your arrival and trotted over to you, looking for a scratch behind the ear.

“Oh. My. Gosh. He’s adorable!” you exclaimed as he rolled over for belly rubs. “You finally got a dog for me, Tony? Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Sorry, but I can’t take credit for this,” he said, turning down the hug you were offering him by putting a hand up. Then he pointed at the mischievous trio whose doing it was.

“Well actually, it was mainly Loki,” Bucky said, nudging the god in the ribs.

“But Mr. Bucky, we all- Oh wait. Awwww,” Peter gushed as he realized what Loki was feeling.

“Oh. In that case, thank you Loki!” you shouted, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

Without a second’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, too, returning the embrace. “You are quite welcome, my darling.”

You nuzzled into the spot where his shoulder met his neck. In turn, he put his head on your own and breathed in your scent, forgetting the others in the room for a minute. It seemed you had, too, because you looked equally startled when Tony cleared his throat.

“Ok, fine. He can stay,” Tony conceded, “but only if he doesn’t wreck the place. And keep him out of the lab.”

You all chorused your thanks and, despite his harsh tone, could tell that Tony had already taken to Bobby, who was now the center of attention again. After playing with him for a bit, Bucky made some excuse about having to leave and took Peter with him, both of them wanting to give you some alone time with Loki.

“This really is very sweet, Loki,” you told him after a few minutes.

“Think nothing of it. It is my gift to you.”

“I feel bad, though. I don’t have anything for you,” you said, biting your lip. “Well, actually, I do have one thing that I can give you.”

“Oh? What would that be, my darling?”

The end of his sentence was nearly cut off by your lips crashing into his. The kiss was a little sloppy, but filled with so much love and desire that neither one of you cared. After gathering his wits, Loki kissed you back, cupping your cheeks as you grabbed his shoulders, still a little unsteady from surging forward.

“That,” you breathlessly whispered, pulling away as Bobby began barking again.

Later that night, Tony found you and Loki passed out on the couch, Bobby sprawled out across both your laps.

“Huh,” he mumbled, draping a blanket over your shoulders. “I guess it’s a good thing they got that dog, after all.”

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 79: The Rites of Blood and Knowledge

Chapters: 79/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg 13(Blood)

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel) Wanda Maximoff, vision, Bruce Banner

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, In Reference To Blood Mixing Mentioned In The Eddas

Summary:  The great ceremonies begin.

The dreams were powerful that night, whisking you off to far away places, off to the increasingly familiar form of the gargantuan space artist. There was a strange nostalgia out here that you were slowly coming to recognize as being not your own. How could it be? You had never physically been here, only visited in dreams.

With green and blue sparkling at your right and left, you drifted along in their orbit, yet another asteroid in a primordial star system.

First Wielder.

The concept filtered through your mind, trailing a warm and wistful longing behind it.

Peace. Eternity. Creation.

Before battle. Before separation. Before imprisonment.

Before all.

The star system was strange: every time you came here, the sun was a little different. A variable star, its brightness oscillating, it was still young and new.

There was only one planet in this system, located fairly close to the star. The presence of the colossal giant perturbed the asteroids and gas around the star, but their great mass prevented them from coalescing.

Comets formed in great numbers from the gas and ice beyond them, whizzing past them, inspiring new drawings. Asteroids clumped up against them; a brush of their great hand sent them flying, to collide into one another, to spin away from their unstable orbit, and join the comets on their cross-system journey, to crash into the singular planet.

The colossus watched with the patience of true immortality, as the planet burned and erupted, filled up with water, and clouds, and sky.

Thoughtfully, they regarded an asteroid they held in one hand, then, with their color-stained fingers, they began to draw.

The wistfulness and regret reached their peak, and you woke up in the empty bathtub, with a thought ringing in your head.

The Wielders always came to a bad end.

                                                                            ******

Loki was somewhat disgruntled to discover that you'd been having these dreams without him. He didn't scold, but his concern was clear. You described them in as much detail as you could, but, to your dismay, he didn't have any explanation for what you'd been seeing while you slept.

It would just have to remain a mystery. The upcoming day was going to be far too busy to dwell on it.

Both you and Loki had dressed in your absolute finest, your armor polished bright, your skirt covered in embroidery, your chest and neck festooned in beads of carved gold and pearl. You still felt a little bit like you were so buried in finery that you became invisible, but you tried to carry it with pride. All of this had been put together especially for you, and that hard work deserved to be shown off.

Loki was so magnificent in his fur-trimmed cloak, and elaborate helmet, you had to firmly tell yourself not to spend the whole day just staring at him all moon-eyed.

Maybe just a few hours.

Today, the Second Feast, was really the main event, as far as this Buridag was concerned. At noon, you would participate in the Blood Taking ceremony, wherin you would 'mingle blood' with the royal brothers, in order to be formally adopted into Asgardian high society. This would cement your status as high enough to advise Loki as one of the most important members of his personal entourage. And before the evening feast, you would perform the ritual that would confirm you as an official Seidkona.

But before that, you would have the time to run around and enjoy the festival.

It was set up like a combination job fair and reenactment fest. Stalls lined the streets and filled courtyards, peopled by the crafters of Asgard. Smiths, armorers, and carpenters, goldsmiths, lapidaries, scrimshanders, and glassblowers. Weavers, spinners, leatherworkers, and dyemakers, artists, musicians, chefs, academics, mages, stonemasons, construction workers, scribes, dancers, and cheesemongers. All the sights, and sounds, and scents, and flavors that made up Asgard were being demonstrated and celebrated.

Your Father and Tara joined you in the streets, and Loki reluctantly released you into their care, having some preparation left to do.

Tara, flouncing around in an apron dress and domed brooches very much like your usual style, gushed over how beautiful you looked, and your father, rather sheepishly dressed in an Asgardian greatcoat and cowl, agreed openly.

“You look like a princess.” he said. “A real one. You...You walk different now. Talk different. You look so strong.”

“Is it me, or are all these people following us?” Tara asked, not very quietly. A few chagrined people in the crowd that flowed in your wake down the street peeled away, and wandered in different directions. The rest either had less shame, or had orders to keep watch over you.

You spared the group a glance. There appeared to be a solid mix of Asgardians and humans, several of which had their phones out. You surmised there would be a new wave of photos of you on the internet over the next few days.

“Keep your cowl up dad.” You advised.

“Want me to run them off?” he offered.

“Nah. I don't really mind if they take pictures of me. Can't really hurt anything.”

“Wasn't so great last time.” Tara pointed out. “I spent a lot of time stanning for you.”

“Well, last time was sensationalized bullcrap. This time is a nice festival. I mean, check out that guy!”

That Guy was a glassblower in his stall, spinning a huge, bubble thin amphora of rose pink glass. You had seen its like before, but never seen one made.

“Oh, they age crystal mead in those! The pink lets in the right wavelengths of light that give it it's shimmering quality.”

“What's crystal mead?” your father asked.

“Don't try more than a few sips, if anyone offers.” you warned. “Asgardians have iron guts. Their booze is way too strong.”

“Yeah, they warned us about that on the plane.” Tara said. “And yesterday, it looked like they had everything divided up by species, so no one got the wrong thing.”

You took them around to various demonstrations: spinners spinning yarn, brewers preparing several of Asgards many alcoholic beverages, apothecaries showing how basic medicines were made, a cobbler putting together a nice pair of boots.

“So, Asgard's really advanced, right?” Tara asked. “Why is everything like Ye Olden Times?”

“Asgard's never had that big a population, even at it height. There just isn't that much demand for mass production. Most things are bespoke, or self-made. Quality depends entirely on the maker, so that, of course, becomes a competition. And that, in turn, becomes a matter of cultural pride. Also, they have thousands of years to get good at what they do, so Asgardian made goods are super high quality, and they judge personal worth by that. I don't think they'll ever automate; it would go against a lot of what they stand for.”

You snagged the three of you a traditional Asgardian snack; fat sausages, wrapped in savory pastry. You thought it might be good to have something else in your stomach before the first ceremony.

Tara called them Asgardian corn dogs, which you couldn't wait to share with Loki, if only to watch his nose wrinkle with disdain over the undignified term.

“So when do we have to let you go?” Tara asked.

You checked your phone for the time, stuffing the last of your sausage into your mouth.

“Eh, I've got a few minutes left. Better start heading over though.”

Your winding path through the courtyards took you past minstrels, impromptu dances, and games, to a large, tall dais that had been put together as a temporary mirror to the throne room. It towered over the City Hall courtyard like a ziggurat. You'd be up there soon enough, but currently...

“Who's that?” your father asked, pointing at a man standing at the top. “Doesn't look like Thor.”

You squinted up at the figure, his bright armor shining in the rarefied sunlight.

“Ah, That's Heimdall. He's the Guardian of Asgard, and god of...uh, sight? I think? Vigilance? It's not quite that neat and simple, you know? The whole 'God Of' thing is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So that's a god?” your father asked. “How can you tell? Are they all gods? What does that even mean?”

“All good questions. Mostly because they are very hard to answer.”

Your father and Tara jerked at the sudden new voice, and, not for the first time, you found yourself amazed at how easily a man of the sheer size and importance as the king of Asgard could sneak up on people.

“Your Majesty.” you said calmly, inclining your head. Your father and Tara dipped into awkward bows, a little awed by the mythical figure before them. Thor didn't necessarily demand obeisance, but he didn't exactly discourage it either; he let people act as they felt appropriate.

“Not every Asgardian is a god.” Thor explained. “Those that are go by the term 'Aesir', a common name through most of the realms for beings of that type. You are born Aesir; you cannot become one by outside influences. However, Aesir nature doesn't always become apparent at birth, it often doesn't manifest until adolescence. As for what it means to be Aesir...that doesn't have so straightforward an answer. I leave it to the philosophers, who, incidentally, are in booth seventy-eight.

Anyway, I have come to collect your daughter for the ceremony. There isn't much time left, so we'd all better get in place. If you go through those two poles there right now, you can get very good seats.”

“This could get a bit weird.” You warned. “It's a ceremony more ancient than any recorded human practices, so it's probably going to seem archaic.”

“Oh, it's not so bad.” Thor said. “It's been updated and refined over all those years. For instance, everyone remains clothed now, and there are at least seventy percent fewer entrails used.”

Your father coughed, and you rolled your eyes. Thor's sense of humor was difficult for you to understand, considering how serious he was about everything. The thing about Thor's jokes was that he might have been joking about something that had really happened, or he might have been joking about something he'd completely made up, but he would never specify which.

“On that note, I've got to go.” you said. “Entrails to sort, and all that.”

Your father coughed again, Tara patting him compassionately on the back.

“Good luck!” she called to your receding back.

                                                                                ******

“Now, you've been fully briefed on what will happen during this ceremony, correct?” Thor asked, as the two of you loitered near the back stairs of the temporary dais. People were filtering in to seats and standing room around the courtyard, waiting for things to start.

“I think so.” you said. “If I've got this right, there's going to be a special dance-”

“The Alignment of the Celestial and Worldly bodies, yes.” Thor said. “It symbolizes everything that must come together to bring the 'adoptee' to the greater 'family'. In this case, it will tell the story of how you came here to join our family.”

A soft warmth crept up your neck, and heated your ears beneath your helmet. You knew it was all socio-symbolism, but the notion of 'joining the family' hit differently now that you were on intimate terms with Loki.

“And then all the braziers will have some kind of incense thrown in, and in the smoke, we'll all go up the stairs like we're magically appearing. Honestly, it sounds like it'll look really cool.”

“All ceremonies contain a bit of theatrics.” Thor agreed. “Perhaps that is the most important part. Or that's the part that makes it important. I wish we still had some of the traditional ceremonial incense, but we just don't have access to the materials anymore. You would have liked it; it was much more floral than most of what you have here. We did manage to get some lavender though. That should be nice.”

“Maybe one day, when the Bifrost is more stable.” You said. It did sound very nice. “Loki said that you, and he, and Heimdall will sing a blessing song?”

“Yes, a divine blessing from a trio of Aesir. It's got to be three. And then...”

“Yeah. And then.” Loki had told you about the bloodletting. He had been very frank about it. “I know. I'm nervous, but not afraid.”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes there are unforeseen effects, but never anything bad. You'll be perfectly safe.”

“I know. The nervousness just comes from knowing it'll hurt. Even if just for a short time.”

You buckled under Thor's hand when it came down on your shoulder, enveloping the whole thing.

“Loki would rather slice out his own guts than draw your blood, trust me. He's been trying to figure out how to get around it for weeks. Unfortunately, the blood is the most important part of the magic. It carries all of the power. It's very old magic: according to him, this is practically the only part of the ritual that has remained unchanged from the beginning.”

“Did there really used to be entrails and naked people, or was that a joke?”

“Ehhh, well, yes and no. This ceremony originated with the Vanir, and they are not opposed to nakedness under certain circumstances. In this case, everyone who attended was expected to leave the clothes they came in at the door, and wear a special loincloth instead. This was actually to prevent violence, by barring hidden weaponry from being brought to ceremony grounds. So rather than pure nudity, everyone was dressed as scantily as was possible.

As for entrails...unfortunately yes, that was also a part of it. A seer would perform a divination using the entrails of a slaughtered animal. That practice was going out of fashion, even before the war, and I don't think anyone today even remembers how it was done.”

You shuddered. Yes, it was a different culture, and a long time ago, but it still grossed you out.

“I'll have to remember to thank Loki for trying to get me out of it, even if he wasn't successful.” You said. He really did put in a lot of effort behind the scenes. If only he were more open about some of that effort, so you could appreciate it more.

“He was adamant about the bull.” Thor said. “Demanded a private ritual the night before. Put your helmet up on the pillar, then sacrificed and butchered the beast himself. Insisted on it. Did our ancestors proud, but you know he knows his way around a knife.”

“I wish he'd told me. I was really stressed about that whole thing. I'm glad, in the end, that he was thinking of me, but I really wish I'd known. I wouldn't have lost so much sleep!”

“It was a little last minute.” Thor admitted. “I approved it the instant he explained, but we had to do it pretty much immediately afterwards. He really should have told you, but I fear my brother is usually more invested in the making of plans, rather than what to do once they come to fruition. I feel you will be a positive influence on him, though.”

Even though he was wearing his eyepatch, rather than the mismatched prosthetic, his one blue eye was open and sincere.

“I think so too.” you said. You already were influencing each other. It was impossible to live so close, to sleep in the same bed, without doing so. But Loki did have a bad habit of assuming things, a by-product of his upbringing as a leader, you supposed. You would simply have to speak up more.

Perhaps you had gotten too comfortable. But perhaps you wanted to be too comfortable. It might be a holdover from your year of struggle, but having someone who wanted to do so much for you was very tempting. You knew it would be better to strive for a balance, but you also knew that, unless Loki somehow diminished himself severely, the two of you would never truly be equals.

But you admired that greatness, and somehow, those all too common flaws in him made him easier for you to love. They made him so real.

An ambling drum beat started up, accompanied by the brassy ting of zills, and a flute. Loki joined you and Thor in peeking out around the dais, just as a group of dancers spread out around the courtyard.

You'd been told that the dancers represented personages from history and legend. You were pretty sure that the three women who orbited the dance stage equidistant from one another must be the Norns, and you assumed the cluster of people standing beneath a glittering tree branch and clanging their zills were probably meant to be the ancestors of the royal family.

The dance told a story of a woman dressed like you, and a man dressed like Loki, wearing silver bells at their wrists and ankles that jingled with every step. They made everything look so much more graceful and sensual than it really had been: Holding hands like the rune branding had been on purpose, dancing circles with each other, like everything had been friendly and not at all awkward from the very beginning. How elegantly 'you' swooned into 'his' arms, while the assassin was caught. How triumphantly 'you' defended 'him' against the Huldra. And how beautifully 'he' clasped 'you' in a romantic, yet properly chaste embrace.

There was none of the blood, none of the fear, or anger, or petulance, or confusion. No loss, or loneliness, or uncertainty.

But that was how it worked, wasn't it? None of those things could be shown to the general public. This was ceremony. This was spectacle! This was what would be remembered.

The pair danced away, out of sight, the ancestors retreated, and the Norns raised their arms in unison. All around the courtyard, attendants dumped incense into the torches and braziers, sending thick smoke and mysterious perfume wafting over the entire area.

“Show's on, darling.” Loki said, grasping your shoulders, and leading you up the stairs. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you rose above the sweet smelling clouds like a legend. Heimdall stepped aside to let you pass, Loki and Thor leading you right up to the edge of the elevated platform, where waited a podium, upon which rested a brass bowl. An unfamiliar rune was stamped on its bottom. So that was where the magic would happen.

Thor held his hand out over an unlit brazier just in front of the podium and concentrated. Scarcely a moment later sparks danced between his fingers and jumped to ignite the fuel. The light illuminated the clouds of incense, obscuring the audience. Cut off thus from every other person out there, you didn't flinch as the trio of gods each placed a hand on you, and began to sing.

You couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. It was a complex song, with rising and falling harmonies, parts layered over one another, something that couldn't have been easy to learn. As their voices dipped and flowed, you felt the power rising, just like out in the camp, months ago. Why could you sense divine power? Was it because of your magic? Was there anyone out in the crowd that could feel it too?

Thor's good eye had begun to sparkle with crackling white energy, the power of the blessing he was singing into you. You assumed Heimdall, behind you, was lighting up orange, and when you turned your head to glance at Loki, you were suffused with the gentle glow of the blue light from your dreams.

All of the anxiety drained out of you at the touch of that light, your arms dropping to your sides as relaxation took over.

Everything was all right. Loki was right beside you. Thor and Heimdall were with you, their voices reverberating through you, their blessing upon you. The rare winter sun filtered down over you like a blanket, as the last notes of the Aesir's song filled your head.

Loki gently took your hand, gazing earnestly into your face as the calming light faded from his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispered.

A sudden, painful jab, ripped you out of your cocoon of sunny calm. With a sharp cry, you turned to stare at your fingertip, pierced deeply by the tip of one of Loki's knives.

Loki held your hand over the brass bowl, letting the blood drip, enough to cover the rune at the bottom. Then he tenderly bandaged the tiny wound, lines of regret around his eyes. Thor held his hand out for a slash, and then Loki turned the blade on himself. Blood slowly filled the little bowl, as a light throbbing started in your head. Every drop that rippled its surface was like a giant heartbeat within you.

Once it was full, Thor and Loki began singing again, lifting the small bowl between them. They held it up to the sun, and then poured it onto the burning brazier. The fire sputtered, sizzling, sending a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face. You gagged on the scent of burning blood, practically bathed in it, a layer of death-scent on your skin. The song cut through it, thrumming in your ears, an echoing promise of cherishment and fidelity.

The blood burned down into nothing, the smoke slowly clearing. All of the people in the courtyard came back into view, the upturned faces solemn. The dancers below picked up the chorus.

And you understood them.

Loki took your hand and lifted it up, flourishing to the crowd. They cheered, while you stood there, stunned. You understood what they were saying, their enthusiastic calls, their songs. The blood smell lingered in your nose, the throbbing swiftly receding from your head.

He led you to the stairs down as you wobbled, but you never made it all the way down. Dizziness overcame you, and you collapsed into Loki's arms.

[cleocazo]

ultimate ship meme: calder n rhea yeehaw

ultimate ship ask meme   /   accepting !

General:

How long will they last? : when i think about them, i think about them going the distance. in spite of anything that comes between them ( usually their own doings, and yes, i’m looking at calder thorson for straight up ghosting ) i like to imagine they find their way back, eventually. 

How quickly did/will they fall in love? : it’s weird, because it happens without either of them even realizing it is. she makes him smile, and he makes her feel… important. they do something for one another that no one else has in a long while, and they become very attached to the feelings they have in each others presence quite quickly - but love, and calling it so, evades them a little while longer. 

How was their first kiss? : long awaited. sexy. awkward. it was the culmination of a lot of mutual pining, and it MEANT something - but it was also a lot very, very fast, and it went very far very quickly, too. their first kiss kicked off their first time ( and rhea’s first, ever ), so… big feels. 

Wedding:

Who proposed? : they live in sin a few years, but eventually i feel it could go either way - but i think it would be very rhea and very sweet for her to propose on leap day, you know… entirely serious, but trying to give the vibe of ‘if you say no, this COULD be just a joke’. it wouldn’t be over the top. she’d try and treat him to something he liked, and she’d probably make a bumbling mess of it, all considered - but she’d get there, and it wouldn’t go horribly bad. he’d try to match it eventually and propose too in his own way ( at the aquarium, a la their first ‘date’? ), but he’d also mess it up a lil even if they were already engaged - so they’d have two wholesome if not funny stories to tell. 

Who is the best man/groomsmen? : i would hope that by this point, the relationship would be… healed, enough, for it to be the remaining next gen. let daniel be best man and rylie and troy be groomsmen, it’s what they deserve. ( if phoebe barton is rocking around, she gets to b flower girl bc i said so )

 Who is the bridesmaid(s) : meghan would be maid of honor by grace of being the only married person that rhea knows, and stephanie would fulfill a more traditional bridesmaid role along with the only friend i can remember rhea having, felicia. 

Who did the most planning? : rhea and jane, together. imagine the bonding sessions to boot.

Who stressed the most? : rhea and jane, haHA.

How fancy was the ceremony? : considering one of them is royalty ( was, probably, at this point ) and the other an asgardian, they went full casual compared to past weddings in their families past. it was a very small gathering, definitely more reflective of them as people. rhea wore the white dress and calder donned a suit, the people fulfilling a role all took them seriously, but their ceremony was in a modest chapel and the afters in a function hall not too far away from. it looked beautiful ( rhea thinks calder’s mum has the best eye for such things she’s ever seen ), but it was done on a small budget.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? : i mean… i don’t think i gotta say loki, but… loki. rhea’s ‘dad’ sure was NOT.  

Sex:

Who is on top? : to b fully honest… they both love rhea being on top. for him i can imagine it being about looking up and seeing her - not to b crass - riding his d*ck. for her, it’s something about the feeling of control. they switch it up because there’s nothing really like the opposite, for rhea ; but… yea ! 

Who is the one to instigate things? : varies too much to have any one answer at their best ( though for a long while, calder ).

How healthy is their sex life? : i would say very.

How kinky are they? : ‘kinky’ is a strong word. they experiment, as they get more comfortable with one another, and as they grow. they try diff things. sometimes they watch some dumb movie, i don’t want to name an actual movie and offend someone so ill just say ‘fifty shades of grey’ and they think ‘oh, that’d be fun to try’ and they do and it ends disastrously, but, like, who am i to judge them-

How long do they normally last? : how is calder’s bedroom stamina affected by him being an asgardian ? does it make it easier for him to last longer ? is he able to get it back up quicker ? i have questions, where are my answers.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? : yes, this is an equal opportunity household.

How rough are they in bed? : depends on the kind of fucking, my friend. both of them enjoy a little bit of roughplay - but that doesn’t mean it’s every time, either. 

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? : a lot. and calder is only the big spoon 40% of the time ! 

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? / How many children will they adopt? : i’m combining two qs in one because… i feel they’d have three full stop, but how many of those are natural / adopted could be up for debate. something to discuss someday !

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? : calder. rhea’s, like… ‘totally fine’ with them, but… also, that’s dad’s job-

Who is the stricter parent? : it honestly varies on child and on the day. o might tell you that it’s calder because he stopped him from doing something wildly stupid, and he’s still pretty butthurt about it. tova might tell you it’s rhea because she didn’t let them dye their hair bright orange when they were nine and they’re still holding a grudge about it. 

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? : honestly… their kids are pretty dumb ( love them ), so… neither? they come home w broken bones or whatever and calder and rhea are like how in the fuck-

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? : rhea ! she never got them as a child, or, u know, basic human affection, so… she packs little notes of affirmation in each one even when they’re old enough to call her cringy, and makes sure they get all their essential nutrients every day.

Who is the more loved parent? : much like the question of who’s stricter - it varies. for the most part the title goes to rhea, not for any particular reason outside of her being more open with her feelings and being more… emotionally present, i suppose the term would be. but tova’s favorite will always be calder, and the boys can vary.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? : they want to go together, but it depends on work for them both and other varying factors.

Who cried the most at graduation? : rhea thinks it was her because she was a blubbering mess, but calder was real up in his emotions about it.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? : rhea never gets the chance, and calder is always first in. 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? : rhea, after she learns how. not to show my jane stan, but she learns a lot from the most intelligent woman in all the galaxy-

Who is the most picky in their food choice? : pretty decisively rhea.

Who does the grocery shopping? : they take it in turns, but rhea isn’t as trusted doing it - she caves to the kids demands way too easily.

How often do they bake desserts? : once a month or so, but for the most part they are a carton of ice cream in the freezer family.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? : calder’s a meat lover, rhea went vegetarian sometime in her senior year and never went back.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? : calder ! softie.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? : neither. they like staying in, let them have that peace.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? : calder. absolutely lethal man. only ask him to make soup.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? : calder, for the most part. rhea says its because he can reach all the shelves to stack things / his arms don’t get tired from hoovering / etc.

Who is really against chores? : she’s not against them per say, but rhea doesn’t love ‘em.

Who cleans up after the pets? : oh, that’s a rhea job. she’s the reason they have ‘em, she’s responsible for care.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? : rhea.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? : also rhea.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? : calder. 

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? : calder with showers, rhea with baths. 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? : rhea is in the routine, but the kids would join her and if he’s around, calder isn’t opposed to it either.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? : rhea goes all out every single year, almost to make up for the fact that calder doesn’t entirely… get the holidays.

What are their goals for the relationship? : happiness ?

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? : rhea, usually. calder if he’s been busy.

Who plays the most pranks? : the kids.

[thorne93]

Stan Lee University (Part 13)

Prompt: What would the Avengers be like in college, more importantly, what would they be like if Y/N existed around them?

Word Count: 2248

Warnings: drama, language,

Notes: This is based on a HC from @carryonmyswansong. They helped brainstorm and write part of this series. In this AU, no one will have powers, everyone is a normal human. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​

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

In the following months, all through midterms, you two became closer than you would’ve imagined. You spent nearly every weekend at his house, often times just staying up late and talking. Eventually, you’d fall asleep in his arms, and he’d cuddle you all night.

You told him about your family, about your holidays growing up, your grades, your time in grade school. You told him about Bucky, how you met, how you fell for him, when you started to fall out of love for him. You told him about your first years of college.

He told you about his family and his time through school. How he wasn’t close to his parents much since his sister’s death. He had a brother, but he was already moved away and somewhat estranged from the family.

Twice, you went to the arcade, declaring whoever won the most arcade games won a free dinner from the other one. You won one night, and he won the other. He teased you relentlessly when you lost, but he wrapped you around the waist and kissed your hair, stating he’d still buy you dinner. You opposed though, stating a bet's a bet.

Around campus, you hadn’t even bothered with the drama. Wanda and Pietro still ignored you. Bucky hadn’t talked much to you since the day you confronted Loki. You and Loki didn’t interact. He gave you a dirty look after Stephen punched him, but other than that, you kept your distance.

Besides that, all was well. You didn’t announce that you and Stephen were dating, because it was nobody's goddamn business. You were sure people knew though, between the way you two laughed during lab, the way he touched your hand, the way you walked hand in hand to lunch, the way you left with him on Friday after your last class. It was obvious, but you weren’t going to let everyone in on your relationship. You didn’t owe it to them.

You went bowling once, and actually won, by some miracle. You gave Stephen a hard time, telling him, “You’ll never be a surgeon with such shaky hands. No way you can do surgery if you can’t even get a strike.” He took it in stride though, and made sure to make you pay when he took you ice skating at an indoor rink. You could barely keep up while he skated circles around you.

“What's the matter, can’t keep up? Oh that’s right, you’re so much more superior. I’ll just be racing around, you know, using my shaky legs.” He raced by you and winked while you barely inched forward, terrified of falling on the ice. After he proved his point, he actually came over and taught you how to skate properly and by the end of the day, you felt more confident on the skates.

It was becoming quick knowledge for you two that apparently you could both cook and bake up a storm. Every weekend you two stocked up on some meals, made them together, and then you baked Stephen some sort of obscure dessert you found on Pinterest -- with no complaints from him.

The Pre-med club had a fundraising event that you oversaw and Stephen helped. He didn’t have to, at all, it was just for officers of the club, but he said he’d rather spend time with you, helping you for a good cause than alone.

He assisted in setting up a whole amazing fair, complete with booths, games, and food. Tickets were for a local children’s hospital and all proceeds went to them. He even got his parents to donate a hefty amount anonymously in the club’s name. You were very appreciative of that gesture.

For the first time in a while, you were purely and genuinely happy. School was still going great, as both you and Stephen were devout to getting assignments and studying done before goofing off. Both of your grades were actually better now with a study partner, one that really understood the material and appreciated the time that needed to be spent on it. All of your friends and you met up still, Stephen joining you for quite a few coffee meets. He and Clint seemed to hit it off, which thrilled you.

The four of you had gone on two double dates, once to a restaurant, and once to a movie. In fact, by the second double date, when Clint couldn’t quite hear because the ads playing before the movie were too loud, Stephen signed what he was saying to him. Your heart swelled at the sight.

“When did you learn to sign?” you wondered, impressed, quietly when they were done conversing.

“A week ago. I know you told me he prefers to do that when it’s hard for him to read lips. I figured we’d be in a few of those situations.” He shrugged and you couldn’t help but smile like a huge idiot.

Tony had hosted three more parties, that you went to together and Loki did not show up to.

Things couldn’t get much better for you. It seemed like everything was finally in a good place.

In two weeks, you’d be home for winter break. You two hadn’t discussed what you’d do with the time off, if you’d hang out more, spend quality time with your families or how it would work. You thought you should probably discuss it soon though.

Saturday night, you were in your PJs in Stephen’s room, sitting at his desk. He was on his bed.

“Okay, did you calculate mu yet for problem fifteen?” you asked, looking down.

“No, give me a second,” he said, his brows furrowed.

“I’ve already got it. I thought I’d let you look at it.”

He lifted his head, a playful glare on his face. “For once, will you let me finish first?”

“I’ll never let you finish first,” you teased before sticking your tongue out. “Maybe when you stop with that bullshit science.” You winked as he stared at you. “What?” you asked, his gaze peculiar.

He bit his lip. “You wanna know why I didn’t go to that party with you?”

You eyed him up and down for a second before nodding.

“Because I wanted to.”

You immediately frowned, not understanding, at all.

“I don’t usually like people. I mean, friends are alright, sure, yeah, but as far as dating… It seemed like a waste of my time. I always thought I’d worry about it when I got to med school or residency. But undergrad, that’s the time to really kick ass, get the good grades in, hit the books. I just thought you would be too much of a distraction. And I was right. From the moment I met you, I knew you’d be the one thing that would threaten everything I’d worked for. But then, when you proved to be something that wouldn’t threaten it, you’d actually help it… I wanted you. I just. I was so worried I’d get wrapped up in you, in us, that my schooling would suffer. Then I hoped you would show up alone, so I could maybe make a move, but you showed up with Loki. Then, when you weren’t sitting in the spin the bottle circle, I was happy to see I had another chance. I didn’t want to date you, because you impressed me so much. I thought, ‘There’s a girl who could actually give me a run for my money’ and I don’t come across that very often.”

“So you blew me off because you were worried I’d make you fall in love with me… Sounds logical.”

He stared at you, serious. “It’s the most logical thing I’ve ever experienced because it’s true. I fell for you.”

You stopped breathing, looking at him. Your heart was hammering so hard and fast in your chest you thought you’d pass out.

“You… fell for me?” you asked in a whisper.

“Despite my better judgement. Yes.” He gave you that award-winning side smile. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you all the goddamn time. I worry about you. And for the life of me, I can’t help but imagine being with you.”

You were silent, having no clue what to say at first.

He got up from the bed before kneeling in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Please, say something. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me that I’m an idiot. Tell me you don’t feel the same. But please, don’t… I can’t stand the silence.”

For just another second more, you were quiet, you couldn't help it.

“I know it’s fast. I know you’ve been hurt. I know between Bucky and Loki this probably seems like it’s moving way too fast for you but you’ve got to know that I love you.”

Finally, you found your voice. “I love you too,” you finally admitted in a whisper.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen from him grew on his face. “Really?”

You nodded with fervor and a giant grin. “Of course I do. You’re… you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more. I wanted to tell you I loved you sooner, but I was worried you’d freak and… I don’t know, run?”

He looked at you, bemused. “I’d never run from you, okay?” He reached up and put your hair behind your ear before leaning up to kiss you softly. “I love you far too much to do that.”

He leaned back and you stared down at him with stars in your eyes, a warmth spreading over your body from head to toe.

“Okay,” you said happily.

------------------------------------

A week had gone by since Stephen’s confession, but unfortunately, you two hadn’t had much time to focus on each other. He had to pack his dorm, and you yours, plus you had finals to study for.

Everything was packed now and you just needed to talk to Stephen about the holiday break arrangement. That shouldn’t be too hard. It was Sunday and you two agreed to spend time at his house, spending the night there.

“So, I was wondering,” you started, a little nervous to breach this subject. Admitting you loved each other was one thing, talking about holiday arrangements was a huge step.

“Aren’t you always?”

You ignored him except for smiling with an eyeroll. “About the winter break--”

Suddenly, his phone was vibrating on the counter in the kitchen. “Hold that thought,” he instructed as he answered the call and stepped a few feet away. “Yes, this is him.... Oh… Okay… When?... Alright. Yes. No, that’s fine. Thank you so much.”

After five minutes, he hung up and walked over to you, his face a mask of disbelief.

“Stephen?” you addressed, getting up and rounding the island, rubbing his back. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, no everything is great.”

“Who was that?” you wondered.

“That was the study abroad offices. They said I got the spot,” he informed, still clearly reeling.

You frowned, wondering what he was talking about. “Spot?”

Finally, his attention settled on you as he told you. “I… I was put on a waitlist for studying abroad in London. I applied as soon as I transferred here.” He looked at you with apology and slight horror in his eyes.

“Oh, and so you got a spot on their trip?” you realized.

“Yeah,” he breathed, nodding.

You beamed, throwing your arms around him in a hug.  “Great! That’s great!”

He slightly pushed you away and put his hands on your shoulders. “No, the plane leaves right after finals.”

That’s why he was upset. A pit grew in your stomach.

“Oh…”

“Yeah, it’s for over the Christmas break. I… I didn’t think I’d get it. I almost forgot about it. It’s a great opportunity for people wanting to be doctors. You go around and shadow a different kind of doctor every day,” he explained, hoping you would understand.

You nodded, a faint smile on your lips. “That sounds fantastic, Stephen. I’m so happy for you.”

His eyes shot back to your face. He looked at you, worry etched in his features. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to though. I mean, with everything just kind of… starting between us.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, putting your hands on your hips. “Stephen Strange, you listen to me, if this is going to help you make a better life for yourself, then you get on that plane. If we can’t withstand a few weeks apart, then clearly we don’t have a good foundation.”

“Yeah, but…” he started, clearly torn about this.

“No buts. I mean it. I’m happy for you, and I support this,” you insisted.

He put his hands on your hips and pulled you close. “I know. I know you are, but I’ll be away from you for five weeks. What about us? We love each other but this is just getting started and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“I’ll still be here when you get back. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m going to miss you though.”

“We can always video chat,” you assured. You reached up and put your hands on either side of his face. “This is a fantastic opportunity and I would resent myself if I kept you from it. You need to do this and I’m happy to support that.”

“You’re an amazing person, and I’m so glad I found you.”

“Back at you, Strange,” you teased before planting a quick kiss to his lips.

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

Forever Tag List

@essie1876​

@magpiegirl80​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification​

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989​

@munlis​

@thefridgeismybestie​

@bubblyanarocks3​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​

@feelmyroarrrr​

@kaeling​

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​

@damalseer​

@heyitscam99​

@yknott81​

@sorryimacrapwriter​

@glitterquadricorn​

@xxqueenofisolationxx​

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm​

@alyssaj23​

@sea040561​

@princess76179​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​

@sarahp879​

@malfoysqueen14​

@ellallheart​

@breezy1415​

@marvelmayo​

Steve Rogers

@nedthegay​

@camigt1999

@lostinspace33

@alwayshave-faith​

@elleatrixlestrange​

@ultrarebelheart​

@lenawiinchester​

@esoltis280​

@patzammit

Bucky Barnes

@nedthegay

@lostinspace33

@alwayshave-faith

@elleatrixlestrange​

@ultrarebelheart

@lenawiinchester

@its-not-a-tulpa

@esoltis280

@thirstresponsibly​

@valecitainwonderland​

@buckybarnesappreciationsociety

@howling-at-that-moon @sneakygitsune @whiw0lf

Loki Odinson

@lostinspace33​

@ultrarebelheart​

@lenawiinchester​

@esoltis280​

@tngrayson​

@wangdeasang​

@harrymewmew

@jayfantasyatyourservice

SLU

@eagleandthebutterfly​

@disneyfanatic77

@disneyoncerlover815

@meraki–mei

@fcavalerro

[agentem]

Endgame questions: Sharon Carter, Peggy Carter, Team Carters, some Steve stuff, SHIELD, some Bucky and Sam

I feel like I should just get the Sharon stuff out of the way. Readers, if you are new, I love Sharon Carter--mostly from the comics because she never had much to do in the movies. I also love Peggy Carter because, originally, Stan Lee had written them as sisters and I fucking LOVE SISTER RELATIONSHIPS (see future post on Gamora and Nebula).

Now, of course, they are great aunt and grand niece (that is Peggy is Sharon’s grandparent’s--I believe, grandfather Michael if Agent Carter is still canon--sibling.)

Markus and McFeely (who WROTE these movies) said Sharon was originally LIVING with Steve while he was on the run in Infinity War and that she was cut (”she was cut” is Sharon’s whole MCU history). I say that because she was originally the “female lead” of CATWS and was cut, in favor of Black Widow. She was originally part of “Team Captain America” and part of the airport battle in CAWC, but was cut in favor of Ant-Man/Spider-man happening. (This had to do with the Sony deal happening or not, which is neither here nor there.)

But the point is, she is a character that I care about. I don’t necessarily need her and Steve to be together in the comics. Some of my fave Sharon comics are her teaming with Black Widow or other Agents of SHIELD.

Anyway, back to them “living together.” I don’t think that is canon because if it is, it is fucking dark. It’s one thing to have kissed your grand-niece it’s another thing to have fucked her a bunch of times and had five years of a stable relationship with her from the time it started in CACW.

I HOPE he kissed her and then she fucking moved on with her life. She’s fucking thriving at the CIA. I hope she survived the Snap and maybe got involved with Nick Fury’s underground SHIELD. I mean, they mention Button Bob (whose real name I never remember) at the end of Infinity War as someone who is still on Fury’s team. He was also in Age of Ultron. I would’ve loved to have seen Sharon in Age of Ultron or mentioned as still a SHIELD agent in Infinity War.

Because SHIELD is goddamned important to her. She wanted to be like Peggy. She joined up despite her family’s protests (this is mentioned off-hand in CW) and Peggy was the only one who supported her. Those two had a familial relationship where Peggy mentored her and served as a guide for her career.

You know, what? Fuck it, I’m just going to headcanon that once Fury and Maria Hill are Snapped, Sharon is in-charge of SHIELD. (I think this probably conflicts with the TV show I haven’t watched since Simmons got stuck on that weird planet?) But I don’t give a fuck because Sharon needs to get something.

I am also conflicted as to whether going back to being with Peggy is “moving on” or “going back” for Steve. I think it is the latter, honestly. Like he got jealous that Tony got to have a family? They seem to have conflated “moving on” with “getting a life” in the film. But Nat talks about having a life with the Avengers. That is what I thought Steve had.

Like, okay maybe he wasn’t living with Sharon Carter for the last ten years. (Five on the run, five after the Snap). But is not having a girlfriend or children the worst thing in the world?

As an asexual childless individual, I don’t really understand. He seemed to rely on Nat and Sam and together they were trying to help Bucky, who is really just beginning his healing process in Wakanda when they PULL HIM OUT to join this fight.

I know a lot of Stucky fans are really bummed. I get that. The Russos always said that since they were brothers, they were attracted to the Steve/Bucky narrative as a brother story. (See above where I am super into sister stories, so I get that.) But I also know that a HUGE part of the audience did not read it as they saw it. And they know that. They totally swerved into it in CACW and were certainly aware of the backlash against the kiss with Sharon.

Even if the audience did read it as the Russos intended (and I don’t think creator intent is the same as what comes across): would Gamora abandon Nebula? Would Thor leave Loki? Would Pietro leave Wanda?

I did see that Sebastian Stan played it like Bucky somehow knew that Steve was leaving for good. That is why they have the “you’re taking all the stupid with you” exchange that they had when Bucky went off to war. (Is marriage really like war?) And had him know who the old man was way before Sam did.

But Bucky being sort of okay with it doesn’t mean it is okay? At the end of CACW said his philosophy was that he believed in people. Specific people, sure. He had abandoned the Avengers for Bucky, really.

The only way I can explain it, is that he and Nat were a team, right? And now she’s dead and he’s like “holy shit, I gotta find that life Tony talked about fast!” And he made a split second, impulsive decision. (Which, again, I really think you should PLAN your time travel before you do it, and like discuss the possible unseen ramifications with other people.)

I guess this movie is about the Avengers needing grief counselors (like if Sam had been there, since I assume he is certified in some way to run meetings at the VA, none of this would have happened).

Pause for a moment to appreciate Sam Wilson more. (Do it, goddamn it.)

As for Peggy Carter, I am not sure if this is a yay Peggy for me? I was happy to see her. And I would have looked at her with the same heart eyes that Steve did through the window, let’s be honest.

But I also really loved the first season of Agent Carter. That scene where she says goodbye to him on the Brooklyn Bridge (which better not be covered in goddamn boats, New York) was really great. Hayley Atwell moved me and I believed she was going to find love elsewhere and be FINE.

Not only FINE but THRIVE.

I know the show suggested that her husband was Daniel Sousa, who I liked just fine. I had always hoped the show would be more ambitious and play with the Peggy and Gabriel Jones dynamic from the comics. It’s not a big part of the comics, but when Steve comes back and is IMMEDIATELY like “gross you are old” to Peggy. she is devastated and Sharon is like “what the fuck, you asshole.” (Don’t be so mean to my older sister!) But she eventually finds love with Gabriel Jones, the Howling Commando, and the white lady with the black man pisses Red Skull off, which is fun for me. So I still ship it (just because “fuck you, nazis!”).

I feel like the MCU version of Steve might have picked up with Peggy even though she was old in CATWS, except she had the Alzheimer’s. I personally think that would’ve been fucking rad to cast an older actress and have her be the love interest. (See upcoming post on ageism and women in Hollywood). But they didn’t go there. They cast a Sharon Carter but really did not follow through with it.

Anyway, in the movie Peggy bonds with Steve because he’s an outsider and they’ve both “had every door shut in their face.” I thought it would have been cool to deal with that in the actual context of 50s America. MCU Peggy is NOT American but she is expected to enforce American laws as they were at the time. How does she feel about that with regard to race in America? How is Gabe dealing with having every door shut in his face, even after becoming a distinguished war hero and personally capturing Armin Zola (who they just let wander around SHIELD?) after Captain America and Bucky were busy dying/crying on the train.

I don’t know, that is what I wanted season 2 of Agent Carter to be. They did cast an African American actor as a kind of pre-Hulk character but he turned out to be terrible, which was pretty problematic for me, and left me thinking well maybe Peggy with Daniel Sousa wouln’t be so bad.

Daniel is a disabled veteran, he can’t be having a super fun life.

Oh wait, now his wife is probably leaving him for a Super Soldier? That has gotta hurt. I feel bad for these characters who are kind of abandoned by the narrative.

OTOH, we got to see Jarvis in a movie! And Sam is Captain America now. Change that logo, Disney+. I wanna see “The New Captain America and the Winter Soldier” now.

Steve let me down but Sam doesn’t usually. Maybe I should move on.

[a-splash-of-stucky]

I Know This Game | Five

Pairings: Bucky x Foster!Reader

Summary: In which you have a break-up chat with Wanda and Peggy (and Jane).

Warnings: A little language, a lot of mildly depressing talk. Questioning your self-worth. Crying, crying and more crying - and angst, of course.

Notes: Fic was inspired by ‘Eyes Closed’ by Halsey. Jane as your wise little sister would be kick-ass, tbh.

IKTG Masterlist

The light drizzle has turned into a storm that is rapidly intensifying, sheets of rain sweeping across the streets. You’ve made it to your building in the nick of time and dash inside before you become completely soaked. You make a beeline through the lobby, heading straight for the elevators at the far end of the foyer. Stan, the elderly night guard, is reading comics behind his desk and tips his hat to you in greeting as you pass by.

Your hallway reeks of its usual rotten egg odour, which always seems to get a little stronger whenever it’s raining. You hold your breath and stride briskly to your apartment, fishing your keys out of your purse as you go. You let yourself in as quietly as possible — no simple task, given the fact that the front door squeaks loud enough to be heard from the floor below.

As expected, the apartment is mostly in darkness, save for the faint glow of the TV in the living room. As you shrug off your coat, you smile fondly when you catch sight of Wanda and Peggy. They are sprawled out on the couch, each occupying one end. Neither seems to have heard you coming in — which says something about how accustomed they’ve become to the squeaky door — utterly engrossed in whatever it is they’re watching. After you arrange your coat and shoes in the hallway closet, you pad into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

“Oh my god, Kim’s an idiot. Like, an actual idiot,” Wanda groans.

You snort, leaning against the kitchen counter, “What’d she do this time?”

Peggy lifts her head up, craning her neck around to look at you. “Y/N! You’re back!”

“How observant you are,” you remark dryly, shuffling over to the couch.

“You’re home early,” she continues, “It’s just turned half past nine, hasn’t it?”

“Again with the ‘stating the obvious’, Pegs,” you sigh. You climb over the back of the couch, glass of water balanced precariously in one hand, and sink into the space between them, crushing Wanda’s toes and Peggy’s calves in the process. The yelp in pain and grumble various curses under their breath as they shift around to make room for you.

Wanda extends her arms in a dramatic flourish. “Welcome to our crazy wild Friday night!” she says, “As you can see, things are going absolutely mad here. We’ve got pizza—,”

“She means ‘an empty pizza box’,” Peggy interrupts.

“—alcohol and the Kardashians, what more could you ask for?” Wanda finishes.

You snort and shake your head in amusement. “You’re a pair of old ladies, I tell you,” you mutter, taking in Wanda’s ratty t-shirt and messy bun, sharply contrasted to Peggy’s blue-and-white striped pyjama set. They’re about as opposite as night and day, those two, but somehow, they make things work.

“You look terrible,” Peggy informs you abruptly. Most times, you absolutely adores the way she cut straight to the point and never beats around the bush. Tonight, with you in your emotionally drained state, her words just make you feel that much more shitty.

“Gee, thanks,” you drawl, rolling your eyes with as much sarcasm as you can muster, “It’s so nice to be welcomed home by you lot,”.

“I thought you were staying at Loki’s for the night,” says Wanda, talking to you even though her eyes are back on the screen, watching the saucy, rich-bitch drama unfold.

“I thought that was the plan too,” you admit softly, settling back into the couch and tucking your legs underneath you. From the corner of your eye, you see Wanda redirecting her attention back to you when she notices your sorrowful tone. On your left, you feel Peggy’s stare practically boring a hole into the side of your skull.

“So what changed?” asks Peggy, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

You’re hesitate for a heartbeat before answering, and in that split-second, Wanda gets it. The girl can seriously read minds.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, putting a hand up to her mouth, “You guys broke up?”

You nod morosely, “Cheated on me with a girl called Sharon,”.

“Called it!” says Peggy, fist-punching the air triumphantly. The three of you tend to make bets over your love life — because let’s be honest, if you’re going to be such a train wreck when it comes to romance, a little bit of comic relief and lighthearted competition can’t hurt — placing wagers on how long you’d stay with a guy and the reason for your separation. You’re not in the mood for humour tonight, though, so you shoot her an unamused glare and she grimaces at her lack of tact, mouthing “Sorry,” at you.

“You okay? You wanna talk about it?” asks Wanda, sitting up and slinging her arm over your shoulder, “I would offer you pizza, but as you can see,” she gestures towards the empty box sitting on the coffee table, “It’s all gone,”.

You smile wryly and pat her thigh. “Nah, I’m good,”, you murmur, hoping to avoid getting dragged into a full-blown interrogation session with these two. After the events of today, you don’t think you have the inner strength to sit through one.

“You’re good as in…you’re good, or you’re good, you don’t want pizza?” Peggy asks, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms imperiously, because she’s known you long enough to know exactly what you say when you’re trying to skirt around an issue.

“The second one,” you sigh, conceding that she’s got you cornered. You know it’ll be easier to admit defeat.

“So you’re not good? What’s up, sweetie?” Wanda murmurs, immediately going all protective on you. “Upset about Loki?”

“Actually, no,” you reply. The conviction and clarity in your voice leaves them taken aback — in fact, you’re a little surprised yourself. But, as you turn over your answer in your head, you realise how true it really is. You’re not upset about Loki cheating on you. Well, not really. Sure, you’re pride’s been bruised, but it’s not torn to pieces, or anything. What you had with him was never going to be permanent, you knew that in your heart of hearts. If anything, you’re glad that it’s over.

Peggy seems to sense your weird mood. “You don’t seem too shaken up,” she says slowly, furrowing her brow as she appraises you.

“I—I am a little shaken up, but it’s not because of Loki,” you confess.

“What is it, then?” asks Wanda, a truly confused expression on her face.

“I—,” you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “It’s a long story,”.

“Well, I’ve got no problem with you turning our wild Friday night into story time,” says Wanda, “You okay with that, Pegs?”

“I am rather curious to find out what’s up with Y/N,” she agrees.

You groan and bury your head in your hands. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” you tell them, voice coming out slightly muffled.

“Avoidance is not healthy, Y/N, you shouldn’t bottle up your emotions,” Peggy says, putting on the solemn voice she uses when you’re getting a talking-to.

You uncover your left eye and glare at her. “I should never have given you that line,” you mutter.

“You’re a therapist, Y/N! You know it’s—,”.

“Peggy!” you interrupt sharply, “Please, I—not tonight, alright? I’ve had a really long day and I just want to sleep,”.

“Okay honey,” Wanda soothes, gently rubbing her hand in wide, circular motions on your back, “Not tonight. But sometime?”

“But sometime,” you agree, nodding your head weakly.

“D’you wanna at least…tell us something? Put us out of our misery? I’m dying to know what’s got you so worked up,” Peggy pleads, half out of personal curiosity and half out of genuine concern for your wellbeing.

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth and chew at it for a bit before replying. “I—I’ve been thinking about…them, and, specifically him a lot today. Well, mostly this evening. And—I don’t know. I’ve just been really reflective about things, tonight,”.

You sense Wanda and Peggy sharing a ‘look’, silently communicating above your head. You’re grateful that they don’t have to ask who ‘they’ are or who ‘he’ is. You’re not sure that you could keep it together if you had to say his name out loud.

“Okay, we’ll talk about it in the morning,” Wanda says softly.

“Whatever it is, you’ll get through this, Y/N. After what Barnes did to you, I think your heart can cope with anything,” Peggy assures you.

The three of you wince at the mention of his name.

“Yeah,” you murmur, moving to stand up, “Nothing can be as bad as losing him,”.

—————————————————

You remember stumbling into the empty apartment after going to see Pepper. Happy had dropped you and your things off with a stoic expression on his face, going through the motions with meticulous efficiency. You walked around in a daze as he brought your things in, flicking on light switches as you went, feeling like the darkness was trapping you in. You noted the changes that Wanda and Peggy had made since your last visit, like the new blue curtains and the fluffy pink sofa cushions. For the last two years, you’d been primarily living at the compound, as per your contract, only visiting the girls every now and then to catch up.

You’d been grateful to at last be on your own, after spending a whole afternoon forcing yourself to hold it together in front of people you once thought of as friends. Alone with your thoughts, you finally allowed the dam to burst and the emotions to overwhelm you, collapsing in a heap on the living room rug as you sobbed your heart out.

Wanda had come home first. She’d nearly had a heart attack when she found you sniffling on the floor, curled up into a tight little ball. Peggy had arrived not ten minutes later and together, she and Wanda coaxed you into your bed.

As Wanda fussed about with blankets and pillows, making a little fort for the three of you to huddle in, Peggy had brought in several bars of chocolate, a few bottles of water and three boxes of tissues — “One for each of us,” she’d said. Peggy sat on your right and Wanda squeezed in between your left side and the wall, nestled against you like a cat.

You had haltingly told the entire story to the girls, pausing every now and then then to descend into the bottommost pits of SorrowLandTM  whenever a fresh wave of grief came flooding through your system. They had listened patiently, not once making a smart-ass comment or interrupting you as you recalled the whirlwind of a day you’d just had.

Afterwards, a very incensed Peggy had declared that she would be going to visit Pepper herself and demand some sort of compensation for you, as this heartbreak was most certainly not part of your contract. Wanda had already begun plotting ways of getting back at Bucky — though howexactly she thought she might be able to outwit a supersoldier and highly trained assassin you had no idea. Miraculously, you managed to talk them both out of their crazed plans.

Losing Bucky was akin to losing a very close family member, and your mind and body grieved as such. In the days following your return, you spent most of your time in your room sobbing your eyes out. You were certain that you could fill an entire Olympic-sized swimming pool with the amount of liquid leaking out of your tear ducts. In a moment of hysteria, you remember wondering how your body hadn’t shrivelled up like a prune from all the fluids it had lost in such a short span of time.

It had been difficult for the two of them — you were normally the emotionally calm and reserved one of the group (being a renowned psychiatrist specialising in victims of war does that to you, you suppose), and neither person had ever seen you this upset. Peggy and Wanda had seen you through horrendous breakups before, but even those paled in comparison to your separation from Bucky. They didn’t know what to do with themselves, didn’t know how to break you out of your funk and in the end, just decided to let you burn it all out.

What differentiated this breakup from all the other ones you’d had was the fact that not only were you betrayed by your lover, you were let down by a whole team of people you used to depend on. When you lost Bucky, you lost them all. Two years of your life, billions of priceless memories and shared moments — all tainted because of one encounter. You weren’t behaving as if you’d just lost one family member; your mind was reacting in the way it would if you’d lost your entire family, which, in a way, you had.

Bucky called you several times a day. He left you about a million messages. The day after you left, you remember being half-inclined to smash your phone against the wall, as it was buzzing almost non-stop. Sometimes you’d check your phone and see that you’d received missed calls from Steve, Sam, Tony, even Pepper, at one point — though whether it was actually those people calling you, or whether Bucky was just borrowing their phones, you never did find out.

When Peggy had gone and gotten you a new phone number, you nearly sobbed with relief.

Would’ve traded all for you, there for you So tell me how to move on Would’ve traded all for you, cared for you

On the fourth day of your self-imposed bedrest and grieving period, you were, without a doubt, at the lowest point in your life. You felt dead on the inside, utterly hollow and devoid of emotion. You were sick of crying, fed up with feeling like you were barely alive. You were burned out, a shell of the person you used to be. You hadn’t eaten a solid meal in almost 24 hours, yet no hunger pains plagued you.

You’re lying in your bed in a state of half-sleep when the door creaks open. Your head is buried under the blankets, so you don’t immediately see who it is; you assume it’s Peggy or Wanda coming in to check on you before they head off to work. The bed dips as someone perches on the edge. A hand gently tugs the blanket off your head.

Disoriented by the slivers of light spilling in through your curtains, you have to blink your eyes several times before your pupils get accustomed to the brightness. You stare blearily at the person sitting on your bed and, in your drowsy state, it takes you a while to make out their facial features, let alone get your brain functioning enough to recognise who they are.

“Jane?” you ask. You immediately wince; you sound like a frog, your voice croaky from disuse. You honestly can’t believe that it’s her — your little sister has actually taken time away from her precious research and flown all the way from New Mexico to see you. If your eyes weren’t already sick of crying, you’d surely be shedding a few tears.

Jane smiles and smoothes a hand over your head. “Yeah, sis, it’s me,” she murmurs, “Scoot over, will you? Your fat ass is taking up the whole bed,”.

With some difficulty, you manage to extricate yourself from the multitude of blankets wrapped around your limbs. Together, you and Jane rearrange your nest of blankets, creating enough space for her to burrow in next to you. You press your back against the wall and Jane kicks off her shoes so that she can crawl in. The two of you lie on your sides, facing each other.

“Sorry,” you snuffle, wiping your snotty nose on the edge of your sleeve, “I look like shit,”.

She chuckles softly, then reaches out to tenderly tuck the strands of hair clinging to your damp cheeks over your ear. “Yeah, well, what’s new, eh?” she whispers, “You think you look like shit, I think you look beautiful. A little busted up, but beautiful nonetheless,”.

“I feel busted up,” you mumble.

Jane doesn’t say anything, just closes her eyes and waits patiently for you to continue. She knows you’ll tell her when you’re ready. She tucks one arm under her head.

“Where did I go wrong, Janie?” you whisper, your voice coming out wrecked and broken, “I—I tried, so hard. I wanted to make it work so bad—I—,”.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” she soothes, shuffling closer and slinging one arm around your ribs, so that you’re pressed chest to chest. “It’s not your fault,” she whispers fiercely, “Don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t control,”.

“B-but…why would he do it if I didn’t do something wrong?” you ask thickly. Against the odds, a new wave of tears threatens to spill from your eyes. You brush the back of your hand over them impatiently, utterly fed up of feeling so broken and exhausted.

Jane sighs. “I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe—maybe he changed. You said so yourself, right? Bucky at the start of your relationship was different to who he was at the end. Maybe—his preferences changed too,”.

Over the past couple of days, you’d come to a similar conclusion, but hearing it from someone else seemed to placate your raging emotions, somehow. “Did he have to…y’know, break my heart like that?” you ask weakly.

“I don’t have all the answers, Y/N,” she says apologetically, shaking her head.

You snort, bemused. “Don’t astrophysicists have all the answers?” you tease.

Jane giggles, pleased to have gotten you in better spirits. “We do have all the answers, hiding out there, somewhere — that doesn’t mean we’ve found them all, though,”.

A moment of companionable silence passes. You scoot down the bed and rest your head on her chest. Listening to the steady thud of her heartbeat and feeling the gentle rise and fall of her ribs lulls you into a more peaceful state. You’re a little bit sleepy, but the cogs and gears are grinding in the back of your mind, trying to piece together the words and phrases you need to say, the stuff you need to ventilate.

“It’s just—things are different, this time,” you say quietly, running your finger over the design on her shirt.

She stays silent, letting you amble along your train of thoughts at your own pace. You chew at your bottom lip, wondering how best to phrase this.

“I couldn’t keep working there…anyway,” you tell her, “I—a professor at uni once told me that you can either be someone’s therapist, or you can be their friend, but you can’t be both. And it was pretty clear that I was becoming a friend, or more than a friend to everyone there,”.

You swallow nervously. You’ve never really voiced these thoughts aloud before, not even to him. “I…I was willing to give this up, y’know?”. You make vague, circular hand gestures as you figure out how to elaborate, “This—this therapy gig, yeah? I was willing to stop. I would’ve found something else to do with my time, maybe, work in the compound another way, but—I wanted to stay,”.

Jane rubs her hand up and down your back. “You really were in love, weren’t you?” she says quietly, “Loved him enough to throw away everything you ever worked for,”. You knew she didn’t quite get it. Though the two of you were sisters, Jane’s bond to her research was quite unlike yours. You’re certain that if she could, she would marry her work. She barely had any experience with long-term relationships, and so you weren’t quite sure why you were trusting her, of all people, to give you advice — but Jane was Jane, and she had a tendency to be right about these things.

You sigh, choosing your words carefully, to make her understand. “I was willing to trade it all for him, Janie. Everything I’d built for myself, my reputation, my skills — all of it. Just so I could stay with him,”. You hesitate, “Not because I loved it any less, but I knew that it would be too difficult to have them both, and he gave me all the satisfaction I got from doing my work and more,”.

She snorts in a very unladylike manner. “I should hope so,” she scoffs.

It takes you a while to get the joke, but when you do, you smack her shoulder forcefully. “Not like that,” you hiss.

“Okay, okay, I know what you mean,” Jane laughs. When she’s calmed down, she presses her cheek to the top of your head, “Why wouldn’t you be able to have both?” she asks.

“Well, I couldn’t have been their therapist any longer, and the hours I’d need to put in in order to run a functioning clinic would have been enormous,” you explain. “I wouldn’t be spending as much time at the compound and, seeing as I would be giving up my work to have more time with him, that seemed pretty pointless,”.

“Maybe you could’ve found a way to make it work,” Jane says, and from her tone you can tell that she’s already trying to come up with solutions, working out possibilities. “Just because the path isn’t clear, or the road is an uphill struggle, doesn’t mean that it’s not feasible. If you love two things, you should be able to have them both,”.

“Just drop it, Jane,” you sigh, not wanting to dwell on what-ifs and burden yourself with maybes. Already, you’re feeling the sadness welling up inside you from the brief discussion you’ve just had. You shrug, trying to brush those thoughts away with some indifference, “Guess I’ll never get to find out, huh?”.

“Guess not,” she echoes quietly. Another silence, then, with her voice so soft you almost don’t catch it, she says, “You did nothing wrong, you know that right?”.

“Yeah,” you mumble, even though you don’t quite believe it yourself. If she notices the lack of conviction in your tone, Jane doesn’t comment.

Something is still weighing on your chest and you decide that now is as good a time as ever to let it out. “I was there for him,” you tell her, “I was there for him, just him, y’know? I wasn’t…trying to make him who he used to be, wasn’t trying to make him anything he didn’t want to be, I was—I just—,”.

You cut yourself off as you feel a wave of panic rushing up your throat. You take a deep, shuddery breath in an attempt to calm your nerves, “I think everyone on the team had their own personal agenda when it came to helping Bucky. They were helping him, but ultimately, they were helping themselves, in some way,”.

“Even Steve?” she asks quietly.

You nod, albeit a little reluctantly. “Yeah. I think he kinda hoped that I could get him back to the Bucky he used to be,”.

“And you’re upset about that?”. There’s a confused undertone to her voice.

“No! Well, actually, yes, but that’s not the main point. The main point is that I—I didn’t!”. You laugh breathlessly, feeling somewhat delirious from lack of sleep. The fatigue seems to finally be catching up on you. “I didn’t have an ulterior motive. All I wanted was to make things better for him, to help him accept the person he’d been made into. I was there for him as he had become; the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes,”.

“He’s an idiot,” Jane mutters darkly.

You laugh, despite yourself. “I think I might’ve been the only person to really understand that you needed to accept him as an all-inclusive package, y’know? I mean, Steve kinda got there, in the end, but—but for a long time, the only person Bucky could talk to, about anything and everything, without fear of judgement, was me,”.

Jane makes a little noise of understanding, like she’s mulling over what you’ve just said. “And so…” she prompts, encouraging you to round things off.

“I guess…maybe this is selfish of me, but I just want him to think about everything I did for him,”, you sigh, “If he replaced me that easily, I just don’t think he appreciates, or appreciated me as much as I thought he did,”. The confession makes you feel lighter, as if you’ve shed some of the weight that’s been bearing down on you for the past few days.

“So what’re you gonna do about it? You gonna talk to him?” Jane asks.

You groan resignedly, “I don’t know how to move on, Jane. I—yeah, I’ve had breakups before, but never like this. So—maybe sometime I’ll see him. But I can’t face him right now,”

“But you will?” she prods, “Closure might do you some good. It’s unhealthy to hold onto the past too much, y’know?”

You arch one eyebrow and tip your head back to look at her. “Anyone ever told you that you should be a therapist?”

“I did learn from the best,” she jokes, poking you in the ribs. You stick your tongue out at her. She scrunches her nose at you and flicks your forehead.

“Go to sleep,” Jane whispers, after she sees you trying to hide a yawn, “You look like you need it,”.

“‘M not tired,” you mutter, even as you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle another one.  

“Uh-huh, sure,” she says, rolling to face the other way so that her back is pressed against your chest. She takes your arm and drapes it around her waist, “If you’re not gonna sleep, I will. By my body clock, it’s still 5AM and I should be knocked out,”.

Your eyes are already beginning to slide shut as you press your cheek to the space between her shoulder blades, inhaling Jane’s comforting vanilla scent. “G’night Jane,” you murmur, “Thank you,”.

—————————————————

After assuring Wanda and Peggy that you’re completely fine after your breakup with Loki and promising (multiple times) that you would tell them everything else in the morning, you retire to your room to get some rest. The events of the day have finally caught up with you, and the cumulative emotional toll is making you feel utterly spent, both physically and mentally. You strip off your work clothes, dumping them into the laundry basket in the corner of your room, before crawling into bed in just your underwear.

You set an alarm for 6AM, mentally cursing yourself for agreeing to meet with a patient so early in the morning on a goddamn Saturday, of all days.

In your exhausted state, sleep comes blessedly easily. As your eyelids begin to droop, your last dregs of your consciousness sadly notes that your current situation is nothing new to you. Freshly broken heart, moping over your failed relationship and wallowing in self-pity as you analyse your frankly depressing dating history. It seems that you have a knack for picking boyfriends cut from the same material.

As always, the last thought you have before drifting off to sleep is of Bucky. Tonight, it’s the way his eyes had shone with unshed tears when you said “I love you” to him before he left on that mission.

Now, if you were to see him again, you’re not sure whether or not you would change it to ‘loved’.

—————————————— Tags are open, but I’m only accepting requests via asks or PMs. Tag requests from replies/comments will be ignored.