#and my walk is distinct enough that it gets pointed out constantly

[deityofhearts]

the way I walk is great because I can get around without being heard which is very fun and silly but also. I look fucking stupid

[darby-rowe]

in a weird way sad that dbf!logan is not a mutant 😩 like dont get me wrong still LOVE LOVE LOOOOOVE him and everything you write and i kind of already assumed he was an average joe

but like ever since i read the like “bub having to stay at logan’s after getting locked out” blurb my mind immediately was like oh god he would literally SMELL her on his bedsheets afterwards

but okay even as regular smegular logan- maybe bub wears a really distinct perfume and after’s she’s left (after sitting through a probably awkward breakfast, this is bub.) he goes to his room and just like fucking smells that perfume on his bed. Like he’s being taunted by the knowledge that she was in his bed all night and now all he’s got is the lingering smell of his best friend’s smoking hot daughter (probably jacks off while smelling his pillow but YOU DIDNT HEAR THAT FROM ME)

Don’t even get me STARTED on the possibility of her having to wear one of his shirts as jammies or just something clean to walk home in- she returns it a week later and it smells like her detergent and that damn perfume

i feel like this is such an absurdly long anon 😭 forgive me, you are making my brain absolutely run rampant

-🪱 (thought i’d name myself this incase i make you a victim to my thoughts again)

the cheshire cat grin that was plastered on my face when i woke up to this in my inbox……….. bless you.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

logan, mutant or not, will always have a strong sense of smell, just not when it comes to him and how he constantly REEKS of cigarettes and alcohol. after bub gets in her car and leaves for home, logan is literally taken aback by the pure sweet smell of perfume that penetrates his nose and brain. it’s strong enough to make this man’s eyes water. it immediately intoxicates him, to the point where if he focused long enough, he could pick up notes of bub’s shampoo.

watching her go in one of his old shirts was one thing, but having her smell lingering in his bed was a whole other ballgame. it was fucking creepy, and he knew it, but he walked over to the more disheveled side of the bed (assuming that’s where she slept), and took a deep, long sniff of where she was previously sound asleep. floral, girly, young. it permeates the air around him, unable to escape her presence. it makes him hard. disgustingly hard. a physiological reaction to his own imagination of a younger woman in her most vulnerable state.

sitting on his bed, nose pressed deep into the pillow where bub’s head once laid, fisting his shameful, dirty cock to his own perverted mind. he feels a deep sense of betrayal to his best friend, lusting after his awkward daughter. his weird, beautiful, sexy, young daughter. in the thick of his own strokes, he thinks about how if he could just get bub alone, make her feel not as weird around him, then she could so easily fall for him. letting him take her virginity, feel her cunt tighten around his huge cock, tell her it’s gonna be okay and he was there to only make her feel good. he finally spills into his hand when he imagines cumming inside her, marking her, filling her up with his seed and making her feel special.

she’s untouchable, a precious gem locked away for eternity. logan just has to come up with the perfect heist to steal her away.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

biased as always, the number one Anne Stan, ofc i gotta christen this returned account with my girl <3

hlc react to mc developing a crush on anne? from the consistent visits to feldcroft to the occasional outing that mc can take her on, it’s obvious they’re growing to be a little more than friends…

A/N: Anne Sallow simping content coming right up lol

HLC REACT TO MC CRUSHING ON ANNE SALLOW

It all started the day Sebastian introduced MC to her. Even with her tired eyes, they were enraptured by her sweet voice and good nature despite being in such pain. Even if Anne was convinced there was no real help for her, MC was determined to make life just a bit more enjoyable.

At first, It was letters with little gifts. Those turned into visits without Sebastian tailing them. Eventually, sneaking Anne out of the house for some "fresh air." Even without Sebastian around, her uncle was rather unpleasant. Always hovering, to the point of being overbearing.

Their most memorable date outing by far has to have been when MC offered to fly her up the hill on their broom to overlook Feldcroft. She sat sidesaddle on the handle in front of MC and she held on to them as they gently glided up into the air. MC struggled to focus on where they were going having her so close.

So close in fact, that if MC hadn't been so distracted, maybe they would have heard the faint but distinctive whisper of ancient magic coming from the scar on her side.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He gets suspicious when MC starts asking too many Anne centric questions. Then he gets REAL suspicious when he walked in on MC and Anne playing wizard's chess. He hadn't announced that he was going, so he was shocked to see MC with his sister alone.

Protective Brother™ mode activated. What were they playing at? His sister had enough to deal with right now, she didn't need MC drooling all over her. He doesn't fall for any of MC's excuses, no one visits Anne more than he does, not even her old school friends. There was no way MC's intentions were "just being friendly".

He keeps an eagle eye out for MC. If he can't find them anywhere, he goes straight to Feldcroft to break up the fraternizing. Anne will have to tell him off multiple times.

OMINIS GAUNT: He doesn't know this is going on until Anne casually mentions it in her letters. This....he struggles with this. Anne is very special to him. They'd been close since first year, she was one of his first and few friends and now she...she seems so...taken by MC.

He wrestles with his own pride and self loathing. He should have said something sooner. He should have told her how much he....it didn't matter now. MC was braver. She doesn't deserve a coward like him anyway. He's happy she's happy. That's all that matters...right?

IMELDA REYES: She knew Anne. They were on the Slytherin quidditch team together before Anne fell ill. She reads about Anne and MC in letters and snorts. She advises Anne to not be so quick to admire MC, they aren't that amazing.

NATSAI ONAI: She finds it absolutely adorable. MC always thinks of Anne, constantly asking her if Anne will like what they've found or bought. Even asks for advice, not that she knows much about relationships, but she tries her best.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He gets nosey, seeing MC almost always nose deep in a letter that smells floral with a touch of birch. He'll poke fun that they're infatuated with their special pen pal and not so subtly imply that he has the perfect potion in mind if they want to speed things along. *Wink*

LEANDER PREWETT: Anne who? Sebastian's sister? Pfffft, good luck with that. Sebastian is a bulldog when it comes to family. Very protective, almost possessive.

AMIT THAKKAR: He first realizes that MC is acting strange when they started daydreaming heavily in class. Even in the more interesting classes. What's got them all starry-eyed and distracted from learning? ....he should have known. A girl.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He hears about it second hand from someone else who heard MC and Sebastian going at it over MC seeing Anne without supervision. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially when the arguably most interesting person at Hogwarts apparently developed a crush on Sallow's sister and was sneaking around with her. Made for very juicy gossip.

POPPY SWEETING: She hears about it through the rumor mill as well and tells MC to fly in on a hippogriff next time. That always impresses the ladies, trust her on this.

ANNE SALLOW: MC brought some color back into her life. They wanted to know all about her, they showered her with gifts, and would come to see her even without reason. She caught on fast that MC fancied her and she had fun playing coy.

Oh, MC wants to know what she likes for her birthday? What an odd, totally random question. MC has been staring at her for the last five minutes, not realizing she's stopped talking, how interesting. She loved pointing out MC's blatantly odd behavior and watching them fluster within an inch of their life. It's the Slytherin in her, she thinks it's funny.

When MC starts asking for more private outings, that's when she really starts to feel special. MC was willing to accommodate her in any way she needed. If she grew exhausted from a walk, they would carry her back. If she was having a particularly rough day with the curse, they'd tend to her hand and a foot, almost fussing as much as Sebastian. Almost.

The time MC flew her up the hill to the lookout, she felt herself falling, in the figurative sense. MC may have fallen for her first, but she fell harder. Holding on to them as they flew, she couldn't take her eyes off their face. She almost kissed them. She didn't, however, miss the fact that her scar hurt a lot less that day.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Something reawakened my Alien Stage obsession! Have some modern AU headcanons/brainrot™ :D

(The alien keepers are just their parents or something)

General rambles

Till is a god in the kitchen. Mizi can only bake b/c she has set instructions, but can tweak the recipe if she needs to. Sua can't cook/doesn't know how to. Ivan burned something and isn't allowed in it again. LUKA IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE FUCKING KITCHEN OH MY GOD DON'T LET HIM COOK THEY HAD TO CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT LAST TIME. Hyuna can't cook for shit w/o proper instructions. Her ass cannot improvise in the kitchen.

Sus and Ivan are siblings (twins if you will) and absolutely terrible to each other (like normal siblings). They could be sitting together and suddenly Sua kicks him off the couch and puts her feet up. Or Ivan throw something at the back of her head unprompted. They are literally the most chill people in the group, until they're in each other's arms length. Then, they might as well be wild cats fighting over a piece of fish

Mizi and Till are childhood friends and talk shit together

Till knows how to apply makeup (both on himself and others) b/c Mizi would test out things on him.

Almost everyone is a cat person. Except for Sua, who is neutral, and Mizi, who likes dogs more.

Mizisua rambles

Neither of them are the warm hands to the other's cold hands. They sleep with a lot of blankets and a heater on

Mizi doesn't know how to braid hair. Sua barely knows how to braid hair. They were so used to their parents/servants doing their hair for them that they don't know how to do anything fancy. But Sua did learn how to braid hair for Mizi.

Sua was/is a rich kid. And she's SUPER irresponsible with money when it comes to Mizi. "You want this dress? Sure. Don't look at the price tag, you liked it so you're getting it."

They're both clingy if the other has to leave for an extended period of time.

Mizi likes climbing up places and napping. And Sua got really good at hide and seek.

They don't have separate wardrobes b/c both of them stole each other's clothes so often they lost track what was originally theirs or the other's.

Ivantill rambles

Till is cold constantly. Ivan is a walking heater. My point is they hold hands and cuddle.

Ivan definitely turls a piece of his hair, while kicking his feet and giggling when he's calling Till. At this point Till is unfazed by it

Ivan calls Till "my star" "my universe" or any other space related petname. (l accidentally predicted that in an old post oops) Till refuses to call him any pet name b/c he'd die of embarrassment

They also steal each other's clothes, but they can tell who's is who's b/c they both have very distinct styles

Till fumbled the bag with Mizi so bad he accidentally fell into lvan's arms and I think that's a funny concept

Have we ever considered that Till might be just as cringe with lvan as he is with Mizi once he starts catching feelings. Like it's possible. Till can just be cringe with the people he likes. Probably not as bad with lvan, but even a fraction would make me happy.

Hyuluka rambles

Luka is shockingly needy and clingy. He would prefer to get dragged through the mud than let go of Hyuna. Hyuna finds it endearing and worrying

There's a lot of heels and dresses in their home. None of them are Hyuna's

Luka is the type that NEEDS TO LOOK GOOD AT THE HOSPITAL! What if the doctors thinks he's not hot enough 🥺 Hyuna has to drag him to the hospital b/c he's fixing his eyeliner. And no you can't just put a little bit of blush on, your bone is stabbing through your calf

Hyuna's love language is acts of service and food sharing. Luka's is being a little shit and physical touch

[redheadspark]

Hi! Could I request #8 for scenario and #1 for dialogue with Oliver Wood, please?

A/N - This is cute for Oliver! Thanks for requesting this!

Cricket

Summary - The little trick you learned as a child becomes a major blessing later on in life

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

It started out as a way to distract your best friend during practice. 

You had a neat trick: chirping like a Cricket with your lips and teeth. You’ve done it since you were a little girl. Your father taught you how to chirp, it was one of your fondest memories of your father teaching you at the cramped kitchen table, you attempting the first few times and and it sounded like a hollow whistle.  But you finally got it, the distinct sound filling the room as your father laughed and your mother scoffed.

“That is unlady like!” She said, though you were giggling and hiding your mouth behind your hands.  

You’ve down it plenty of times since then, something late in the night and poking your head out of your window to mimic the crickets that were loud in the herb garden.  You would do it constantly since you learned it for the first time, sometimes without even realizing and you were doing chores around the house, or other times to simply pester your mother since you knew it would make her mad.  But it always made your father laugh, to which it would make your mother all the more agitated.  

As you go older and started attending Hogwarts, you didn’t think you would be using your cricket whistle again.  Not until you wrestle on the Gryffindor Quidditch Playing Team.  You were a decent flyer, making the team as a Chaser and already making your mark.  You were getting along with all the team members since your first practice, especially Oliver Wood.  You both were in the same year, and he was already making his mark as a great player and extremely competitive.  

You two grew to love the game together, with every practice you both were growing stronger in both your playing and in your friendship together.  He was building a reputation in being an insane player and someone who lived and breathed the sport, but you knew him past that.  He was smart in some of his classes, especially Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms.  He also had a sweet tooth, taking trips to honeydukes when he had to chase to get any sweets he could get his hands on.

You both got close as friends, both on and off the field.  But you were also willing to tease Wood when it came to practice and riling him up so to speak.  It was always meant to be playful, your cricket whistle from one side of the pitch for Oliver to hear and for him to huff at you.  Every time he would, the others would laugh, which made you do it a bit more and a pinch louder. 

By your third year, Wood nick-named you “Cricket.”

The name stuck with you since he dubbed you with the pet name, and you never minded it really.  It was from your close friend, someone you knew you well enough and would confide in you when he needed quidditch advice or simply a friend to chat with.  Whether you were walking down the hall or speeding by on your broom, he would call out your pet name and you would respond quickly and with no hesitation.  

Of course, you were teased about it from the others.  The Weasley twins were the worst at him, thinking it was rather cute that you had a pet name from the headstrong and stubborn captain that they too admired.  He love making the tips of your ears red or flustered a few times, but they meant well.  They too were y9our friends, and they even wondered why Oliver never gave them nicknames.

“You two are nothin’ but trouble.  She is on my good side most of the time,” Oliver explained as he pointed a finger in your direction, both Fred and George rolled their eyes.    

Later on your years as Hogwarts, both yourself and Oliver grew even closer, even fleeting feelings for once another were felt mutually.  It wasn’t until the summer that led to your 7th year that Oliver admitted his feelings for you.  He came to visit you for the weekend since his parents were going to go on Holiday.  Thankfully your parents were willing to let your best friend stay at your little home for the few days his parents were gone.  

He confessed what he was feeling the nigh before he was going to go back with his parents, picking the perfect time to talk to you after you all had dinner together.  You figured that you two can talk out in the herb garden as the sun was setting over the rolling hills.  You were a bit shocked to hear him telling you how he felt about you, but then again you were having the same feelings as well.  The conversation seemed tone casual, but it was heavy simultaneously as you were watching Oliver fumble a bit with his words.  

“We can go on like this, like friends is all we are,” he admitted to you, to which you were both freaking out and seeming beyond excited at the same time.  It made you reach over to take his hand in your own, sensing he was nervous to talk your feelings for one another and how he wanted to be more than friends.  You never saw Oliver nervous before, not once.  He would be driven before an intense Quiditch match, even before a difficult test. 

But he was nervous in front of you, genuinely nervous.  So you did the one thing that you knew would take him my surprise: you kissed him.

You both kissed amongst the growing herbs that have been planted when you were a little girl, the first signs of fireflies dancing along the last beams of the sun that was about to set along the hills not too far away.  

Lastly, the first chips of the crickets were singing in the air, Oliver pulling away from your kiss and listening to the crickets.  You watched him smile, a wide grin that showed almost all of his teeth as he looked back at you with a cock of his head.

“I like it when you make the sound better,” he teased, you giggling as you pulled his hand to have him lean in and kiss you again. 

The End

June Prompt Session

[calciumdeficientt]

HAAAAI *twirls hair* care to write sum headcanons about my boy Colt? (THIS IS @redninjaoutfit 😋)

Colt De Luca is my son. I found him sopping wet in a cardboard box on the side of the road and I raised him as my own.

COLT DE LUCA HCS

He always sorta knew that he was gonna follow in his brother’s footsteps. He’s always looked up to Lucky, even if he doesn’t always appreciate his helicopter-parent way of keeping him safe and on the right track. While he calls his brother out for his hypocrisy, especially on the grounds of smoking, he knows that deep down it’s Lucky’s way of showing he cares.

EXCELS in art class, to the point that his artwork is shown as examples to other classes (including the older years) and is displayed throughout the classroom. He has a real natural talent for art, and he’s constantly working to improve upon his previous works.

Speaking of constantly painting it is always ALL OVER him. His hands, his shoes, his jeans, his hair. He just cant seem to get it off him, and because I like to think that primarily he works with oil paints, that shit does not come out, and often means he has stained skin. One time he walked into the auto shop with some red paint on his face and all the greasers jumped to go and find who’d hurt him. He had to explain to them that he’d been doing a life drawing of some tomatoes and had wiped his brow with the back of his paint encrusted hand.

Tries hard to do right by his brother but its just so hard when he’s been practically joined to the hip to the biggest bad influence in the greasers for his entire life. Lefty and Colt balance each other out. They’re ying and yang, opposite, complimentary, and one cannot exist without just a liiiittle bit of the other. Colt is zen, and peacekeeping, but he can walk the walk if he has to scuffle. Whereas lefty is bold and brash, but carries a little bit of sensitivity in him.

Gives me totally bonkers hippie vibes. Maybe it’d because he’s a sensitive soul, but I can just picture him with his hair down and out of his little coiffure, maybe a tie dye shirt, and some kind of beaded necklace on. He’s still got the paint covered jeans on, but they really tie the whole look together. He’s all about peace, love and understanding. And its coming from a genuine place too, a totally clean mind, because if Lucky even so much as suspected he was doing drugs he’s be picked up by the scruff of the neck and wrung out like a damp dish-towel.

Totally gets referred to as “Lucky’s brother” almost exclusively. This is done a lot by older students, and often means he has to play messenger for his brother who is VERY easy to find. The teachers also do this, but they also call him by his brother’s name. he doesnt think he and Lucky look that similar, but its clearly enough for teaches to grab him, demanding he turn in assignments that are most definitely not at his grade level. Maybe its because of the hair, they both have pretty distinct carrot tops.

[northropi]

So I Think I Might Be Narcoleptic And My Psychiatrist Does Too

This has been going on for a while. Things got to a head when I was actually fired for a job due to constantly winking in and out of sleep, and it's still a considerable problem in my life because a lot of long drives (including, incidentally, my daily commute to work) are immensely risky, because no matter how much sleep I get, I just can't keep my eyes open. I was having trouble staying awake in classes as early as high school, and in retrospect I actually have a lot of secondary symptoms that point to it too.

One that's sort of a dead giveaway, albeit mild enough that it's hard to tell if it's intense enough to qualify, is that I seem to have cataplexy. It becomes hard to move, or even hold my arms up, when hit with a wave of sleepiness or intense emotion- which, you might be thinking, "well yeah you're fatigued," but it's a very different feeling than just having a tired limb and comes on very suddenly. My hands start to slip down the wheel while driving, my elbows can't stay straight, so on and so forth- if that is cataplexy, that's, like, 95% chance to be concurrent with narcolepsy, to my understanding, and a previous test that didn't diagnose me was taken under the presumption I didn't have those symptoms (and, also, an environment I apparently found very overstimulating, as I actually didn't get a wink of sleep that entire time, even over the night I stayed- my psych immediately considered this grounds for a second opinion given everything else). I also seem to have the diagnostic quality of tending to pass directly into REM sleep when hit with a sleep attack, which, frankly, makes it a lot worse. It can be hard to tell that I did pass out. In mild cases I'll see or hear someone standing next to me, blurry, mumbling something unintelligibly as I try and fail to look back up at them and answer. Less mild, I'll wink out for a minute, dream that I read something, and then wake up very, very, very confused if it's true or not, which probably is going to hamper my ability to do research in the future. Most concerningly, of course, I once almost went off an overpass because in my dream I was driving, in actuality I was very much not, and what woke me up was when I realized the sona of my internet friend should not in fact be chatting with me from the passenger seat.

Most recently was, well, not having, it's been a while, but realizing that a set of distinct memories I had were probably due to, sleep paralysis. At first I blew the idea that I had it off, but only recently have I connected the dots. What was happening was that from, like, Middle to High school, I had recurring episodes of, like... So I'd be sleeping on my belly, covers mostly over my head, and I'd feel sort of the weight of three steps landing next to me on the mattress, walking up along my body in a sequence. Initially, I assumed it was a cat. Then I started sleeping with my door closed. "Okay," I thought, "shit's haunted." It was a pretty horrifying experience even before I realized it couldn't have been the cats- I'd always just lock up in fear, in what I assumed was just some kind of instinctual, voluntary reaction, but also it seemed equally because I, you know, couldn't move. I wouldn't see anything in those situations because I generally covered my eyes under the covers, but the sensation was distinct and consistent between episodes. Bringing it up to the doctor while scheduling my new referral for another study (hopefully this one being closer to home won't make me all hyper-aware like I was for the first one), she certainly seemed to think it fit the bill, though I also don't know much about the phenomenon overall. Still, I guess that's another check mark on that list.

This leaves me in a pretty fucked up spot if true. The freeway I drive to work isn't just long, it's fucking dangerous. In a three-month period we had about as many fatal accidents, and the road is littered with car parts, not just little fragments of bumpers, like, fucking axels, just sticking up from the ground tossed to the side. It goes over a good amount of hills, big overpasses, lots of situations where I wouldn't just lightly tap a guardrail and be jolted awake, I'd go off the side and into some fuckin warehouse like the F-16C we had go down not too long ago. And here I am sometimes blinking and waking up two lanes over. Great. Job only offers semi-remote positions at most by the way, and I'm really not looking forward to gambling with other places because as much as the job itself beats me up on top of that they're actually decently nice to me there (granted i'm staying closeted lol) and simply put I don't know that better jobs exist.

beyond all that, eh, fuck it, i'll put some tags on this. interested in opinions i guess, if it sounds at a glance like it's the case or if i just have some confirmation bias going on. i actually get decent sleep at night so i don't think it's just fatigue- part of the reason i'm writing this is because i remembered the ridiculous level of recline my chair has can actually be restricted and this has really helped me not constantly fall asleep at the computer.

[scarletsaphire]

This is the second chapter for my first EI fic, with art from @pokkeshii and beta'd by @pricklenettle. There's no art for this specific chapter, but you can find the art keshii currently has posted here.

Link to Chapter One On Tumblr.

Trigger Warnings For This Chapter: Gore, violence, loss of control

Jazz knocked on the door to Danny's bedroom softly. She normally tried to avoid coming into his room; he didn't get a whole bunch of privacy from their parents, and with him being a celebrity half the time, he needed it. She did make an exception when she thought that something was wrong, and she was pretty certain that something was wrong.

It had been a few days since Tucker had messaged her. It was simple and to the point: "We had a fight. Keep an eye on him for us?"

She didn't ask what the fight had been about, just agreed to try her best until they made up. Jazz may have been a part of "Team Phantom," but Sam and Tucker were still Danny's friends, and she tried to keep that distinction clear. It wasn't good for him to only have friends he shared with his sister.

Jazz had kept her eye on him, of course. It was why she was at his door right now. The first day, she'd assumed the moodiness was nothing more than the results of the fight. It was understandable, that he'd be upset for a little while. She wouldn't pry, or try to get him to talk about it if he didn't want to. Danny knew her door was always open, and she made sure to gently remind him as often as she could.

He never came.

If he'd just been moody, than maybe Jazz would still let it slide. But it wasn't just his emotions; he was skipping school for non-ghost related reasons, he was constantly tense, and he'd been flinching away from everyone's touch. He'd go to sleep as soon as he could every night, doing who knows what in his bedroom in dead silence. Jazz knew he wasn't sneaking out more than was necessary. She'd taken to sitting with a clear view of his window while she worked. There was a chance he'd been slipping away invisible and intangible, but if that was the case then Fentonwork's defenses would have at least a record of it.

None of this was a normal reaction to having a fight with friends, and Jazz needed to make good on her promise, and make sure he was okay. Danny was making it a little hard by not answering the door.

"Danny, it's me," she said, just loud enough to carry through the door. "I'm coming in, whether you want me to or not. We need to talk." 

There was no reply, so Jazz counted down from three out loud before pushing the door open.

The room was completely dark. The lights were all shut off and curtains had been drawn, blocking out any moon or starlight that might've gotten in. Even the glow in the dark stickers that had been pasted on Danny's ceiling for as long as Jazz could remember were gone. That wasn't a good sign.

It was only the light from the hallway that allowed Jazz to see Danny. He was sitting on the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, his head buried between them. He gave no indication that he noticed Jazz come in, or had even heard her at all. Jazz turned on the light, and he still didn't move.

Jazz walked closer slowly. "Like approaching a scared animal," her brain supplied. "Or a dangerous one." She shook the thought away. Danny wasn't some animal, he was her brother, who was clearly hurt in some way.

"Danny?" she said, lowering herself to the ground next to him. This close, she could see how his shoulders trembled as if he was crying, how his nails dug into his legs, knuckles white. She could see crescent marks covering his shins, some with dried blood still surrounding them. This was worse than she thought.

"Danny," Jazz said again, reaching her hand out to shake his shoulder gently. The moment she touched him, Danny looked up. His eyes weren't bloodshot and tear filled like she'd expected. His eyes glowed bright green, drowning out the overhead light and bathing the room in green. They burned with a fury that Jazz couldn't remember ever seeing, matching his mouth which was pulled back into a snarl, teeth far sharper than they had any right to be barred.

Jazz pulled her hand away, and pretended that she hadn't flinched.

"Get out," Danny hissed.

"No," Jazz said, her voice far sturdier than she felt. "Something's clearly bothering you, Danny, and I want to help. I'm your sister. You can talk to me."

"Get. Out."

"Is it about the fight you had with Sam and Tucker?" Jazz said. "I don't know what it was about, but I'm sure they'd forgive you if you talked it out with them."

Jazz had heard Danny laugh as Phantom plenty of times before, in plenty of different circumstances. None of them compared to the bitter, heartless laugh that escaped Danny's mouth. It echoed in the same way it did as a ghost, filling the small room and seeming to loop on itself. The sound raised the hairs on Jazz's neck, sent a shiver down her spine.

"I don't care about them," Danny said. "They made their choice. But I do care about you." He floated to his feet, towering above Jazz even when she stood to her full height. "Which is why I'm telling you to get out." He floated forward, and Jazz stumbled backwards towards the door completely on instinct.

Jazz tried to formulate a response, but her mind was running faster than words could describe. She knew this feeling, the feeling of being hunted, of being prey. The same feeling that she got when in the sights of other ghosts.

She was halfway out of the room before Danny froze solid in the air, his lowered head hiding his expression. She could still see the green light of his eyes pointed at the floor, mirrored by the flickering of green in his hands. The energy for an ectoblast gathered and dissipated in his hands, never quite going all the way out, and Jazz swallowed audibly, her mouth suddenly very, very dry. 

"This is your last warning," Danny whispered without looking up at her. She could barely hear him over the pounding her ears. She had no problem hearing him the second time. "Leave!" As if to punctuate his sentence, he closed his fists. The energy that had been building in them disappeared with a pop, accompanied by the sound of the lights in the hallway and Danny's room shattering.

Jazz didn't remember backing all the way into the hallway, or closing the door behind her, but it must have happened because now she was in the dark hallway, and Danny was on the other side of the door. She was safe.

Jazz admonished the voice in her head again. She'd always been safe. Danny wouldn't hurt her, would never hurt her. She could almost convince herself to believe it.

It still wasn't enough to get her to open the door again.

---

Tucker tried to focus on school, he really did. His grades needed it. But try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about Danny.

It wasn't as gay as it sounded. It was just that he had a good half of his classes with Danny, a tactic carefully planned so that whenever they needed to, they could dip with him. Even the classes he didn't have with Danny, he had to pass him in the halls, and every time Tucker saw him, he looked worse than he had before. It was impressive, in the sad way a lot of things about Danny's life was impressive.

Danny had been looking rough for a while now, even before their fight. Tucker could tell that he thought he was hiding it well, but he wasn't. At least not to someone who'd known Danny when he was in diapers. He'd been jumpier lately, easily distracted, and always tense. Tucker had tried asking about it, but Danny had always given a half baked excuse about not sleeping well, or exams, or his parents, or a thousand other things, and Tucker would let the conversation drop.

If he didn't want to talk about it, Tucker wasn't going to be the one to force him.

After the fight between Sam and Danny, (Tucker refused to say he was a part of it. If anything, he was an unwitting bystander, caught in the tide of Sam's fury.) he'd somehow managed to get worse. He'd always been pale, even before the accident, but now he seemed sickly. He was constantly drenched in a cold sweat, and sometimes Tucker thought he could see the dirty brown of dried blood caked under Danny's nails.

He should say something. He needed to say something. Danny was his best friend, had been forever, and a best friend didn't let the other suffer.

But Sam did have a point. Besides whatever had been bothering Danny lately, he'd gotten more and more distant. Disappearing after every fight, refusing to transform in front of them, never telling them anything about pretty much anything that was happening in his life. They'd tried everything to get him to talk, to tell them anything, but he'd stayed resolutely quiet about it. He'd probably stay quiet about it this time, too.

Maybe Sam was right. Maybe Danny just needed a couple days to go through whatever he was dealing with alone, just enough time to realize how much it sucked, and then he'd come back to them.

Tucker tore his eyes from where Danny sat in the back of the classroom, hands clenched around the metal frame of the desk hard enough for them to bend looking back at the board. He hoped that was the case.

---

The relief Danny felt when he transformed into Phantom was so palpable he nearly cried. He hadn't gone ghost since the fight against Ember, and the vibrations had gotten so bad he couldn't do anything but sit there and try to ignore them with no success.

Now they were gone, and even the voice in his head was a welcome relief, even if it was so much louder, so much more insistent, and sounded so much more reasonable. He was far too happy about fitting back in his skin to worry about that.

Danny didn't get the chance to bask in the feeling for long. He'd transformed for a reason. Somebody was out and about, and by the number of people in the nurse’s office for freak technology malfunctions? Danny had a pretty good idea who.

The only surprising part was that Technus hadn't come over the loudspeakers to announce his presence to the world yet. It was honestly kind of rude of him. It would be so much easier if Danny could just get to the fun part already.

He floated through the halls of Casper High, grateful that class was currently in session. Sure, he was invisible right now, but that didn't matter. He would still get distracted either way. The voice was impatient, after all. It had been too long without a proper outlet. 

Finding Technus wasn't difficult by any means. Just as Danny had suspected, he was camped out in the computer lab, cackling quietly to himself as he transferred between the monitors. There were no students in the room right now. Good. No one would be in the way.

Danny reached into the computer currently displaying Technus's face, grabbing a hold of the only thing in there he couldn't go through and pulled. Technus came tumbling out, catching himself midair.

"Why hello ghost child!" he called as he righted himself. "I see that you have found me, despite my incredible new stealth prowess. No matter! My plans are almost completed, and you will be no match. Behold, I, master of all things wired and WiFi, have created life!" He raised his hands dramatically. Nothing happened.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Be patient!" Technus snapped, before turning around to the computer he'd been dragged out of. He clicked a couple keys on the keyboard, before turning back to Danny. This time, there was a textbox on the screen. All it read was "Hi!"

"Still not impressed," Danny said.

"That is because you do not understand the scope of my genius!" Technus called. "I have created true artificial intelligence, and with its power, I will be unstoppable." Technus started cackling maniacally.

He was through the wall and plummeting to the ground barely a second later, Danny flying after him. "I do not have the patience for you today, Technus," Danny said. Technus clearly hadn't even managed to process what had happened before Danny angled himself to kick him into the ground. The car Technus landed on was totaled, the car alarm blaring loudly.

Danny barely processed the sound, far too distracted by the rush of adrenaline that pounded in his ears and the flood of ecstasy that came from his mind and body finally being quiet. He didn't wait for Technus to reply. He wasn't here to banter. He was here to fight.

He dived headfirst, charging an ectoblast as he plummeted. For his part, Technus had realized what was happening enough to dodge out of the way. Danny didn't bother slowing down to redirect himself. He fired his ectoblast straight down, using it to change his trajectory and launching himself at Technus, landing another kick. Three more car alarms joined the sound. Danny didn't notice.

The pavement crumbled from the force of Technus's fall. He shook off the rubble as he floated back into the air. "I see that we are going all out, as the youths say!" Technus shouted, gathering electricity in his hands. "Well, do not fear ghost child, for I will also-" He was met with a fist in the face, ice crawling across his ectoplasmic skin.

Danny smiled as he watched Technus struggle. It hadn't been a very well thought out idea, just a passing thought really, but it had worked beautifully. He'd frozen his hand to Technus's face, and the only way to separate them would be to peel away the ice and whatever parts of Technus it brought with it. Which meant that while Technus was busy with that, Danny was free to whale on him as much as he pleased.

He made sure to take full advantage of it.

When Technus finally wrenched himself free, the half of his face Danny had punched was a cavity of missing ectoplasm, and his arm hung limply, dripping bright green on the pavement below. "I don't know who urinated on your servos," he slurred, floating backwards. "But I don't want any part of it. I, the Great Technus, surrender. Just put me in soup time."

Danny laughed at this, pointedly not reaching for the thermos that sat on his hip. "Not this time." He took a purposeful step forward despite the fact he was flying. "We're going to do this a little different today. Play a fun little game." Another step. "You're going to go back to the portal on your own accord. You're going to go back to the Ghost Zone, and you're going to fucking stay there." Another step. "And if I catch you before you get there, then I'll make sure there's not enough of you left to return to the Ghost Zone." Another step, and he was inches away from Technus's broken face. "Do you understand?"

Technus nodded. 

"Wonderful. Now, off you go!" Danny waved him away, and Technus took off flying faster than Danny had ever seen him fly before.

He was almost about to chase after him, to make good on his promise, when he froze. There was something about Technus's face that was wrong, and not just the damage Danny had done. Something Danny had seen before, but never on him.

Technus had been scared.

And why wouldn't he have been? The rest of Technus's face broke through the relief that had been clouding Danny's brain. He'd been completely mauled, nearly past the point of recognition, all because of Danny. Of course he'd be scared.

Danny looked down at his hands, positively drenched in ectoplasm. His suit was stained green. His mouth was coated with the distinctive acrid taste of the stuff. Had he bitten Technus? He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember , and it hadn't even been a few minutes ago. Danny fell to the ground hard, not bothering to slow his fall. He landed on one of the already totaled cars, the alarm finally registering. He looked around the parking lot numbly. It was a mess. Even worse than some of his earlier ghost fights had been. He hadn't caused this kind of destruction in months, maybe even longer, and certainly not against a ghost as easy as Technus. 

What had he done?

Exactly what you should have done. The voice was back. When had it left? Danny couldn't remember that either. Had it left? Or had it just been so loud that he couldn't think anything else? He wouldn't let himself think of the other possibility. He wouldn't.

Even if that was the most likely answer.

Danny floated back into the sky, slowly at first and then picking up speed. He didn't bother figuring out which direction he was going, didn't bother thinking of a destination. He just chose a direction and flew.

[applestorms]

GOOD OMENS.

CLENCH UP BITCHES WE'RE DOING THIS. SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS READ WITH CAUTION my hands are still shaking from finishing season 2 approximately 13.420 minutes ago so everybody clam the fuigk up/down. we're getting IN to this one. 10 sections.

okay, before i get into anything specific, i just wanna say: this series has had some of the best writing i've seen in a tv show & it's really fucking gratifying to watch. this season in particular had some really clear, distinct themes that were evolved upon and executed pretty much perfectly imo, to the point that i almost feel like i can guess what a good deal of season 3 is probably gonna look like (see section 12). this is great!! it means the writers are really paying attention to what the story is doing & what the characters are feeling/going through at any given moment in the story, & it just makes the series that much stronger on a rewatch. this season in particular really hits that sweet spot for me of being overt & clear w/ its themes w/o treating its audiences like idiots, it just. works.

i'm not going to touch on season 1 as much here since it's not as fresh as s2 for me rn, but hopefully this post can help bring some additional analysis/reflection to the new season. not sure how much of this will be totally crazy wild & new, but perhaps some interesting points will come outta the process. hope you enjoy the read!! there's 13 sections so feel free to skip around.

1. aziraphale as the beautiful execution of a flawed protagonist (ft. crowley's pining)

one of the best parts of this season by far comes from the character writing, particularly for the main two & especially for aziraphale. aziraphale was my personal favorite to watch for this entire season actually, he & crowley are both such a fucking mess but aziraphale in particular hides it in such a fascinating way to me. it's not just like watching a car crash, it's like sitting on a park bench watching a man drive a bus into a stoplight, like full on crunch the vehicle in half squish, and then just get out & carry on walking like nothing is wrong & he isn't dripping blood & scraping broken bones across the concrete.

on a broader scale, there is something incredibly appealing about how aziraphale & crowley are presented, even at a very base level. even w/o the fantastic acting of michael sheen & david tennant specifically, it's a pretty common thing that fandom will default to shipping Narrative Foils, & these two are the epitome of that. a demon who can't stop being a nice guy & an angel who keeps cutely being an asshole- this is a great base to work off of, & again the execution thus far has been excellent.

what i like about aziraphale in particular is how complex his character ends up being while still fitting into a very particular role. while crowley to some degree fits into an already pretty popular & well-loved character model (that of the grumpy nice guy), aziraphale has to hit a couple of very important & precise traits, being both outwardly very likeable & endearing while simultaneously constantly fucking up & doing increasingly egregious shit. i really can't commend michael sheen enough for his acting in helping to get the balance right- it would be STUPIDLY easy to make aziraphale the most obnoxious character to ever grace the screen if performed or written incorrectly, the kind of outwardly-kind asshole that does horrific shit w/o reflecting since the show runners seem incapable of seeing the character for what they are & it all just ends up driving viewers up the wall (e.g. emily in paris).

what i think makes aziraphale work is the fact that he is just genuine enough in his actions that when he does something legitimately horrible, it's both so subtle you almost don't even pick up on it, too distracted by the emotions you feel in following his perspective, & just motivated enough that it's easy to write him off w/o thinking any deeper. as much as crowley calls aziraphale out for being a bad magician, i think it's spot on that the one thing he is quite skilled at is misdirection. you spend a lot of time in this show following very closely with either aziraphale or crowley's POV, but in s2 especially the contrast between those two views is quite overt. while crowley's perspective is often a lot quieter, more reflective & also overtly anxious as he throws himself into stressful situations purely for the sake of supporting az, aziraphale's POV is always very loud & chaotic as he runs around, finding pubs & fighting demons & doing whatever the fuck else he wants to at any given moment.

the main flaw of aziraphale in this season is, imo, selfishness, a direct contrast to crowley's continual self-sacrifice when it comes to aziraphale. in both cases though, this is (pushed to become) a flaw that i think ultimately leads to their inability to connect at the end of the season. but in order to understand that more, we're going to have to take a closer look into the circumstances that have thus far shaped both aziraphale & crowley's characters.

2. denial as a defense mechanism: heaven & hell as life threatening danger

if there's one thing s2 has not forgotten when it comes to a&c, it's the circumstances of s1 that led them to their current emotional/mental states.

slight tangent to lead back into this point: in my work as a librarian, i end up dealing w/ a very particular set of clientele when it comes to the kinds of people that regularly use a public library. parents w/ young children, older gentlemen & ladies looking to escape the more extreme weather, and (for my city, at least) lots and lots of people who no longer have stable housing. since an often forgotten about goal of a public library (well, to the general population) is social services, as a part of my training i've recently been working through a book on what is essentially trauma-informed customer service, which has led to a lot of insight.

one point in particular that i want to highlight here is the idea that traumatic instances are both common & intensely significant in how they can change a person's behavior. defense mechanisms that may make sense in the context of a traumatic event will often stick w/ people even as the context they're in changes & the instincts are no longer useful, instead making the individuals' life even more difficult.

if there is one trauma that defines a lot of the current problems that a&c are going through, it's the fear that originates from the constant surveillance and, in turn, threat of complete eradication that comes from both heaven & hell.

significantly, crowley & aziraphale both respond to this threat in distinctly different ways: where crowley clings to the idea of escape, of creating a place where it's him and aziraphale against the world (alpha centauri), in part idealizing aziraphale as both his only friend ("friend") & the only person he could ever truly trust (crowley also likely has some trauma from the fall but we'll get to that), aziraphale viciously denies that they even have a relationship, all the while simultaneously relying on crowley heavily to do a lot of his dirty work for him. (see this post for the endgame twist on that idea.) it's significant to me that a good chunk of aziraphale's earliest morally dubious actions involve lying- since he's been doing it for so long, it's probably one of the easiest things for him to write off as not that bad, so it's natural that he would default to it as a defense mechanism here too.

to clarify, crowley does engage in denial too, though it's obvious from the emotional climaxes of both season 1 & 2 that he is much less committed to it, likely doing it for the sake of easing aziraphale's mind and/or giving himself something to fall back on so he doesn't attract too much attention from the people that can really hurt them. overall though, these are both basically just fight/flight responses- crowley ultimately wants to run away from or fight everyone that can hurt them (& betrayed him by letting him down in the past) and aziraphale ultimately just wants to deny that the problem even exists.

if we see aziraphale's later stated goal of, "Let's change heaven for the better," as an evolution off of his earlier mindset, this is also basically what their final argument in ep6 comes down to: crowley wanting to run away and aziraphale wanting to go & fight for change. what's so aggravating about this conversation is that they also want the exact same thing: EACH OTHER. (idiots.) (maggie & nina were spot on, of course. it's not just nightingales missing in that silence.) this is not even to mention the fact that they are utilizing these defense mechanisms not just in an attempt to protect themselves, but ultimately to protect one another. think about that one late at night if you wanna get up the motivation to key mr. gaiman's car.

it's also interesting to note that in s1 crowley basically wins this argument, getting the chance to settle down (albeit, still under pretty questionable circumstances) as he & aziraphale (supposedly) create their own little corner of the world away from everyone else. it still doesn't work though as neither of their solutions really get at the core of the problem, which is 1. the horrific bureaucratic systems of heaven & hell that Don't Give a Shit about People at all, and 2. their own unspoken fears & feelings (romantic & otherwise).

3. good, evil, & narrative foils: crowley edition

since i extrapolated on aziraphale's character in section 1 and a&c's relationship in 2, i think it's only right that i look into crowley more for 3.

for all the pain & agony & tears that it brings, i really do think that ep6 is the best ep of s2. specifically, i think that ep6 is the one that shows the primary issues of a&c that have been plaguing them throughout the season (& even previously in s1) the most overtly, and this is especially true of crowley.

there are two things that aziraphale gets wrong about heaven in their final argument: 1st, the idea that heaven is necessarily better than hell, & 2nd the idea that crowley would ever want anything to do w/ it again.

i've seen some people talking about crowley like he's the voice of reason this season, but i don't necessarily agree, or at least not entirely. he's completely right when he says that heaven & hell is toxic in their final argument, yes, but i don't think his motivation in saying that is purely from observation either. remember that point i mentioned earlier, about crowley also having trauma from his initial fall? where aziraphale naturally trusts people to a fault (see: gabriel, but also picking up shax, the graveyard, etc.), crowley is plagued by a complete inability to trust anyone around him, & it's my opinion that a lot of this comes from the trauma of his initial fall.

the one exception to this is, of course, aziraphale, who we can see attempting to be a friend to crowley both before & long after his fall, but aside from him crowley Does Not trust anyone else around him & honestly for good reason. while we can write off hell as just being Like That, even if crowley didn't initially want to fall (as is heavily implied in a few flashback scenes), he certainly doesn't want to be dragged back into a supposedly great position that he knows he could lose again at any wrong comment. this is also (in part) why i think crowley reacts so strongly to aziraphale's "Nothing lasts forever," comment- after going through the horror of losing his divinity & all the stress of the last few seasons, the one thing crowley probably wants is stability, & he's been relying on aziraphale as the source of that. you're both doing the dance for this one, boys.

to reiterate: don't forget the graveyard scene when it comes to crowley doing absolutely anything for aziraphale to the point that it hurts him, both in terms of the supposed punishment he got from hell (that az skips over real fast in his narration) & how aziraphale continues to deny both the reality of their relationship & how much his denial hurts crowley.

4. beelz & gabe the weirdest couple imaginable. good for them. good for them. also: heaven & hell as two equally controlling/toxic sides of a bureaucracy

the Big Bads of the last few seasons took more of a backseat for this one which makes sense considering the focus on a&c and all of the parallel couples, but i do think the one point that was emphasized for them is very important, and that's the ways in which both heaven & hell parallel each other as shitty bureaucratic pyramids of power.

if we consider this meme to be true, i think crowley really is right when it comes to his analysis of heaven & hell, though we're probably just gonna have to wait until s3 to see the exact route the show decides to take.

a big running thread w/in either of these two groups is the fight for promotions, both in terms of people clawing their way up to get more power & in terms of people being replaceable. crowley & gabriel getting kicked out of their positions is just a vacancy of power to the companies that are Good Omens Heaven & Hell, and there is a very clear parallel between shax & michael & their desire for control. what's notable is how that parallel might also now extend to aziraphale what w/ his new promotion. all very fitting concepts to cover in a post-covid, writers-strike context, which i have seen our resident mr. gaiman posting about.

5. yuri on ice, hannibal, & the beauty of acknowledged romantic tension

if there is ONE thing i am disgustingly grateful for in this show it's the fact that we finally have some concrete follow-through on the romantic tension between a&c that permeated through s1. there's only so many times a man can call his best bud "Angel" completely unironically before it gets fucking stupid (cough cough dean winchester cough). but also, to put it in the words of another text post around here: I love how the kiss was awful.

even if there wasn't a kiss, the fact that this fucking entire season fucking revolved around love & featured all kinds of parallel couples should be enough to clue you in on the romantic tension between a&c, if you somehow were blind enough to miss it before. that being said, i'm really glad that the kiss was executed the way that it was, essentially summarizing all of the tension & anguish that had been built up over the last few seasons in an explosion. the state of aziraphale & crowley's relationship hurts more because they kissed, because the tension finally overflowed & it still wasn't enough to stop him from getting in the stupid elevator & running away again.

sorry had to take a break to aggressively listen to the better call saul theme song again. anyways, while i know there are some other shows that have set precedent for this in acknowledging the romantic development between their leads, i can't stop thinking about two in particular in comparison to good omens: yuri on ice, for the literal cinematic parallels between the kiss, and nbc hannibal, for the creator acknowledgement & slow lead up to the climax.

what i am desperately hoping & praying for w/ good omens is season 3, since it feels like all too often when we finally get a good, Gay:tm: show it's always this big, flashy thing right at the end that everyone freaks out about & adores (around these parts, at least) but is never evolved upon. i think gomens has a good chance since we've got more precedent now, the creators/actors/etc are more open about it, & the season is clearly unfinished w/ a ravenous fanbase, but something something supernatural trauma i'll trust it when i see it. can't always believe these corporate fuckers. at the very least though they probably wouldn't write this kind of ending if they didn't think they had a good case for another season, so.

ok, a couple shorter sections cause i'm undoubtedly gonna run out of space if i keep at this pace:

6. the resurrectionists was a really good arc that i enjoyed a lot

exactly what it says tbh, the writing for this arc in particular really stood out to me.

i mentioned earlier that s2 has some really good character writing & i think that's in part because it's necessary as a kind of transition season, reflecting on the chaos that happened w/ the first go at armageddon & setting up for the next apocalyptic event that is likely planned for s3. it's for this reason that i think the resurrectionists arc is really strong, establishing in particular all the flaws of aziraphale's character that i went over previously in a very interesting way that still manages to weave into the previously established, albeit quite sparse flashback timeline established in s1. the morally dubious nature of grave robbing for the sake of science & medicine is the perfect context to put characters like a&c in, and the more overt look into class w/ a character like elspeth works really well in helping to ground the more abstract social commentary associated w/ heaven & hell.

7. ramblings about sequels & whatnot

it can be really difficult to write a sequel, especially when the first go at the story cleaned up its plot so well by the end, but where s2 is strongest imo is in establishing the ways that crowley & aziraphale still need to grow.

i almost think that this season had to end horrifically tragic, in a similar way that i think book 2 of the simon snow series wayward son had to end on a pretty dour note. in order for 1 & 3 to have decently high notes, 2 just often has to be pretty miserable to balance it all out.

this is also why i think the maggie/nina storyline is so important overall. not only do those two establish the most overt romantic parallel to a&c, helping to transition the story from s1 & set up for ep6, but they also end on a distinctly hopeful note that's in direct contrast to the scene that comes immediately after they leave. the parallel plants at least the tiniest seed of hope that a&c can sort their shit out if given some time & communication, similar to maggie & nina. it also makes a lot more sense in establishing why crowley chooses that moment of all times to bother w/ a love confession- i genuinely don't think the kiss would work if m&n didn't have a little sit-down intervention w/ him beforehand.

8. SPECULATION: aziraphale vs. crowley apocalyptic fight, dissolving of the current organization of heaven & hell, affirmation of the beauty of humanity & morality?

a list of my speculation about what may or may not happen in s3:

apocalypse part 2 only this time aziraphale & crowley are actually gonna be fighting each other & it's going to be fucking agonizing to watch especially in direct contrast to s1

there's probably going to be some sort of attempt to get crowley into an equal/parallel position to aziraphale in hell. whether or not he actually decides to take this position is kinda up in the air, but either way he's going to fight it at first out of a hatred of both sides. if he does eventually agree it'll be under some sort of condition to save aziraphale, and/or a fake out trick that also is to save aziraphale.

i just don't think i can see a happy ending where heaven & hell stay in their same structure. w/ such big characters as gabriel & beelzebub just fucking gone into the middle of nowhere there's gotta be some kind of re-establishment of the two sides & their relations. the only way it might not change is if the Religion Lore gets in the way, but w/ the established politics of this show & mr. gaiman i can't see an ending that just allows the status quo to continue on exactly as horrible as it's been.

crowley back in his apartment? (plsplspls.) also something really heart-wrenching & emotional related to the car & the bookstore after a&c have been separated from them because of course. personally requesting additional exploration of the car as a symbol of crowley himself/able to be influenced by aziraphale e.g. scooting towards az, yellow is so pretty, etc. etc.

more flashbacks, maybe more from crowley's pov this time? like something to do w/ that period where he was supposedly being punished for helping aziraphale, more about his experiences w/ hell & the fall, etc.

something something affirmation of the beauty of humanity & the world, ft. a&c bonding over their mutual love of it again. they were each others only real friend for how many thousands of years, if they're gonna be fighting OR attempting a romantic bond that's going to be significant.

when the actual romantic reconciliation happens is kinda up in the air, but it depends on what the Big Bad ends up being, an external force of heaven & hell or a&c themselves. personally, i think that heaven & hell are just gonna keep getting weaker but w/ aziraphale in charge maybe that'll change (or maybe it'll be the catalyst lolol). if it's external they'll probably get together earlier in the season, if it's more internal probably not til the end, though there might be a momentary reconciliation for the sake of fighting something else.

i'm a bit more up in the air about this one, but maybe something more w/ satan & god as the top of the pyramid when it comes to heaven & hell? good omens is all about that kind of contrast so it might make sense. this also assumes that s3 is the presumed end of the series, which may or may not be the case.

if this does end up being the end of the series: i really, really, really, would not be surprised if crowley & aziraphale end up fully human. it's quite the obvious answer but it just makes so much sense for their characters, w/ their love of the world & whatnot. then again a lot of their relationship has also been related to immortality, but also then again there's a lot of stories out there about immortals hating their long lives & wanting to just settle down like normal people so. ehh. oh speaking of settling down,

9. they're NOT married, that's the PROBLEM: thirteen seconds.

thirteen. full. seconds. of the Most Awful Kiss. known to contemporary tv.

they're not married that's th eentire fuckigngggng proble m.,,..,,..,.

10. "I forgive you."

this is such a nonsensical line it makes me so absurdly angry. what the fuck are you doing aziraphale. well, presumably the exact same thing crowley was trying to do by kissing you, but i digress.

bonus edit, i thought of this literal seconds before falling asleep & now i can’t get it out of my mind: crowley needs aziraphale for stability, aziraphale needs stability to have crowley. mic drop

[so-journeying]

I still have difficulty making prayer my go to reaction to seeing a train wreck take place, but hindsight is everything happens for a reason.. I tend to process things slowly & it helps to talk it over with someone.

So am glad we have the HOLY SPIRIT at all times, rather than filtering it off another flawed understanding, though that can be fun if the group is opinionated enough to provide multiple takes on a single topic, but I only see that in online forums that allow for anonymity.

In person meetings tends to have falsified conformity.

Where one person tends to overpower everyone, or egos get ruffled, as though we could never say something that is confounded in another scenario. Truth has a shelf life, the same way R.C. Sproul quoted Parmenides as having said even while standing perfectly still in a river, does not mean everything has remained unchanged. Since it rushes by you & has travelled downstream before you place your second foot in the water─but so are each of us, as we inch closer each passing day to death & meeting our MAKER.

Like how we are currently in the era known as the grace period before Judgment Day, and all we have been striving to become gets locked in for all eternity. The key concept being GOD is gracious to any who approach HIM during this time for HIS forgiveness. The interesting aspect of Parmenides POV is how change is never possible since:

“Whatever is is, and what is not cannot be”

Ephesians 1:4 Before the world was created, GOD had CHRIST choose us to live with HIM & to be HIS Holy & innocent & loving people.

Acts 13:48 When the Gentiles heard this, they rejoiced & glorified the word of the LORD, and all who were appointed for eternal life believed.

No wonder GOD kept saying in June/July to "become who you are meant to be," not in those exact words... it was something more poetic, you know I should have written it down, HE said it a few times this summer but I was afraid what it meant because I was spazzing & not knowing what HE meant bc it's so shorthand].

A few weeks ago I was really taken by the distinction made by C.S. Lewis on how every person is made in GOD'S Image, and as such we can not judge others by their outward behaviour since we all reflect GOD's image to begin with–hence we are playing Russian Roulette when it comes to being able to distinguish a true believer from a fake.

So it is only between GOD & man whether any real effort is made & blessed by HIM for us to become progressively more like HIM, which I think Dallas Willard was stressing as the crux behind having a real relationship with GOD, or as BP assumes to be what one prays for guidance all through life as a means to gain strength to walk with GOD through the planned pitfalls & carry out GOD's will for us.

But C.S. Lewis' observation is generous in pointing out: No amount of nearness accurately reflects progression or lack there of, since the journey will at many points actually lead us to be further away from GOD's likeness.

So relax & trust GOD's plan for you.

I find that to be a huge relief to know, especially for those of us who are trying but failing very badly, constantly─doubting the process of whether GOD has abandoned us to our own devices.

Bottom line: Keep plugging away on your journey to GOD. The very fact that you are doing so is a signpost, despite your many setbacks & discouragements; GOD is here to be our ROCK in the Wilderness.

I wonder why the Book of Esther is the only account where GOD is not mentioned? It's one of those stories that is rife with so many issues that is relevant to modern life.

Bible Project Synopsis: The Book of Esther asks us to trust in GOD's providence even when we can't see it working. That requires a posture of hope, to believe no matter how horrible things get, GOD is committed to redeeming HIS good world & overcoming evil.

[boinkers-art]

Don’t scroll down if you don’t want mild gore

Let me tell you the story when the level 600 school gyatt walked passed me, I was in class drinking my grimace rizz shake from ohio during my rizzonomics class when all of the sudden this crazy ohio bing chilling gyatt got sturdy, past my class. I was watching kai cenat hit the griddy on twitch. This is when I let my rizz take over and I became the rizzard of oz. I screamed, look at this bomboclat gyatt

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You gu

[isaidsstuff]

I saw a video of a throuple and they looked really good together now my brain is rambling-

i love the concept of a relationship way more then i like participating in one. don’t get me wrong i love to feel loved but i hate how complicated everything becomes and i really dislike having to put my trust in another person.

tbh i do get depressed when i haven’t had human interaction.

ok reading that sentence back it’s like “du that’s literally just part of being human”

i really like daydreaming. most of my daydreams don’t involve me. i don’t exist and am nothing but an observer to the world i created. when i do daydream about myself i am more of an imaginary version of me, i don’t act the way i act.

i hate being observed in a relationship. well not quite, i like friendly pda walking arm in arm, putting my head on someone’s shoulder so i can see when they are looking at on their phone…that may be it.

i’m also not really a fan of traditional kissing i’m always too in my head about it. I constantly think i’m doing it wrong or that they don’t like it.

one time after a guy and i kissed he excitedly pressed kisses from my forehead, to the tip of my nose, down to my neck and it was one of the best feelings in the world. it felt like he couldn’t contain his affection and needed to kiss me the way you need to squeeze something you find cute. it made me feel like i was something special, something someone would get excited about.

he turned out to be a not so great guy. looking back i did something’s that i regret because it’s the way he wanted me to act, I was a worse person when i was with him.

the problem is most people just suck. I find everyone unbearably annoying at least sometimes. Liking someone makes people stupid. every time i talk to someone in a relationship i can’t help but roll my eyes at the way they talk about there partners.

but god does being with people sometimes feel great. i’m just not sure it worth the rest of it. being around people just makes me tired most of the time.

anyway my ex best friend texted me today. she wants to ketchup. she text me every couple months wanting to ketchup and i have to sit there and listen to her boring fucking problem and try not to slam my head into the wall as i placidly agree with her. assuring her that she is in fact the best at everything and is in fact right all the time.

the worst part is i’m just as bad! i complain about how stupid people are but I do all those things too. the only difference being that i’m self aware enough to realize that i’m doing it. the problem is knowing you are doing something doesn’t stop you from doing it. I’m a self centered piece of shit just like everybody else.

i don’t know why i can’t forgive other people for just being human and doing the same Annoying shit i do.

also i’m not hot. at risk of sounding hubristic i’m gonna say that i’m decently cute. my face could be worse, but it is also incredibly soft. i have a round face and dimples and it makes me look young for my age. i have what i would consider a unique/distinctive looking face. the two points in traditional beauty standards that i have are that i look young and thin.

if i ever want to look masculine i look even younger. i absolutely do not have the face for short hair! I don’t want to be a guy for some other reasons but if i’m honest it’s mainly that i would make an ugly guy.

people rarely find me attractive in a way that they would actively pursue a relationship with. not that i blame them i’ve turned people down mainly on the basis of how they look. I’ve also turned down people i do find attractive for other reasons so me finding them attractive is not the only quality that is a must, but it is one based on my previous dating history.

I’m also bad at social cues i usually don’t know that someone is flirting with me until they are literally asking me out. i often times need the quiet parts spelled out.

i just want connection and understanding that takes years and a level of emotional maturity that i do not possess.

sometimes i’m so self centered that i think i may be a narcissist but then i look around and it just seems like everyone is like that but i’m the only one willing to admit it to myself. I see people act like sadistic fucks to those around them then not even realizing that’s what they are doing. (i’ve mostly seen that in men being openly sadistic to women/ actively hateful and not even realizing it!)

i think we are all just brain broken. we are all wild animals that grew up in captivity pacing our cages that is at complete odds with what we evolved to do but if we were ever released we wouldn’t know how to survive.

yeah so that is too say that i am currently single…

[theultimategaebread]

I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. BARRY: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) : - Well, Adam, today we are men. ADAM: - We are! BARRY= - Bee-men. =ADAM= - Amen! BARRY AND ADAM: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm) ANNOUNCER: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, : please welcome Dean Buzzwell. DEAN BUZZWELL: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... : ...9: : That concludes our ceremonies. : And begins your career at Honex Industries! ADAM: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) BARRY= I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) TOUR GUIDE: Heads up! Here we go. ANNOUNCER: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. BARRY: - Wonder what it'll be like? ADAM: - A little scary. TOUR GUIDE== Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco : and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! BARRY AND ADAM: Wow. BARRY: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) TOUR GUIDE: We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life : to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. : Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. : Our top-secret formula : is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured : into this soothing sweet syrup : with its distinctive golden glow you know as... EVERYONE ON BUS: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) ADAM: - That girl was hot. BARRY: - She's my cousin! ADAM== - She is? BARRY: - Yes, we're all cousins. ADAM: - Right. You're right. TOUR GUIDE: - At Honex, we constantly strive : to improve every aspect of bee existence. : These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) : ADAM== - What do you think he makes? BARRY: - Not enough. TOUR GUIDE: Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. (They pass by a turning wheel with Bees standing on pegs, who are each wearing a finger-shaped hat) Barry: - Wow, What does that do? TOUR GUIDE: - Catches that little strand of honey : that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. ADAM: (Intrigued) Can anyone work on the Krelman? TOUR GUIDE: Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. : But choose carefully : because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. (Everyone claps except for Barry) BARRY: The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. ADAM: What's the difference? TOUR GUIDE: You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off : in 27 million years. BARRY: (Upset) So you'll just work us to death? : We'll sure try. (Everyone on the bus laughs except Barry. Barry and Adam are walking back home together) ADAM: Wow! That blew my mind! BARRY: "What's the difference?" How can you say that? : One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. ADAM: I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. BARRY: But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? ADAM: Why would you question anything? We're bees. : We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. BARRY: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here?

what did i do to deserve this

[maneaterwithtail]

In the middle of a world building debate on a jump chain Thread on space battles.com

Aehriman

What do they mean when they say silver and copper tarnish? That cannot happen absent sulfur, it must be a different process. But what?

Spiritual or mechanical intelligence doesn't require me to accept the existence of life without any of it's requirements or antecedents. Your body is about 18% carbon by weight, because it's the frame almost all large and complex molecules are held together with. Imagine if I showed you a clip of Times Square at rush hour and told you there is one small difference between this world and ours, in this one there is no such thing as bones. "But how does anything hold shape or walk upright?" You may ask. "None of these people look like they have an endoskeleton." This is a fraction of the problems GRRM made for himself to wave away something that didn't need explaining.

It makes about as much sense as saying that the number two and all even numbers do not exist in your story, please disregard every previous use of pairs and dozens or two of anything existing. Or that gravity doesn't exist. Fascinating hypotheticals, but as a minor detail in a story where otherwise things behave exactly as if everything existed by physical laws as we know it? The easiest explanation by far is that Martin has no clue what he's talking about or how anything works and is, in fact, full of saltpeter-to-be.

Aabbcc:

Poop comes up an awful lot in digimon, there are poop jokes galore, but it can't be the same thing we mean! It's made of digital fuckery!... it just looks, smells, behaves, and is in every aspect that matters, poop. And when digimon enter the real world, the poop they make and the jokes about it are exactly the same, without any distinction form being digital.

Me:

Uh, it does. Digimon or Bleach demand you accept the existence of an entire biosphere made of exotic bullshit, yet you can turn a human into a digital human or a spirit-made human and It Just Works. Or the Digimon goes to the human world and eats a ton of meat, then goes to the bathroom and poops so the series can make yet another joke about it. It Just Works.

---'

To we fear this all builds off of an apocryphical statement or at least a misinterpretation that George RR Martin said that in his world are the world of a song of ice and fire the chemicals needed for making a gunpowder do not exist. This was pointed out to be absolutely ridiculous especially as they can make alchemical fire at a bunch of other things.

If we go from this relatively minor change we would be exploring a massive change in the overall setting.

Someone used digimon as an example of don't think about it because often fantasy worlds employ a change and don't follow the implications. Needless to say I had to get my big boy pants on because I'm very serious and I care about very important things.

And oddly enough one of the enduring aspects of digimon the thing that's constantly captured my imagination and I found often is elaborated on not just in the fans but has been done so in the creative minds and producers and products been the fact that they actually are proposing a minor change that does nothing but follow the implications even if it follows along certain conventional lines

Namely yes there is a world that is simultaneously digital and yet has all the aspects and emulations of life and it interacts with our own and involves bonding with children and/or to either fulfill them and power them or for the children to become them or them to become like the children

The franchise is often psychotically diverse and thorough and exploring the implications of this premise which let's face it was basically an excuse to sell toys

All leading to the fact that I can genuinely say digimon is world building anunplotted and regularly typing on the concept or conceit of something on the same level of there is no gunpowder or the chemicals to make it in our world. Because we regularly run into the fact that yeah reality is in fact made out of hopes and dreams and this isn't necessarily in all good thing because several things that could be thought of as evil or demons from legendsThe imaginations of HP love craft or worse are the results of this weird interaction between dreams computers and our reality. It doesn't necessarily work all that well and it can have all sorts of crazy effects

And everyone's either trying to exploit it or prevent it from being exploited and doesn't even know how the things supposed to work and they have very big wars about this and suddenly something else happens that they don't know how to stop and all they can do was keep doing the practice that is kind of worked which is get a punch of heroic children cultivate their virtues and knowledge and efforts and hope They can verify the quanthe qualities that they can sort of measure and Analyze in order to have an outcome that stops whatever reality devouring glitch is going on this week

So yes on a certain level digimon does for its genre and peers through own its world building better than George RR Martin

So how off am I @prokopetz

That is explained.

the digital world is the umbra/realm of forms having made contact through the web. As such, especially first series, it's a hodgepodge of hypotheticals and emulations trying to be reality based off rumors.

And this isn't deepest lore. They eat and shit but also breakdown into data and reform and xan be reprogrammed.

It's a plausible new underlying influence or result of dimensions poorly interacting based on shit the closest thing to God doesn't know how works and is threading needles with human virtue and souls transubstatiated to code for patch jobs as stuff blossoms with kids at the center.

Heck just crossing over tends to cause reality breakdown from glitching transit systems, wild weather patterns, mirages, and lost timelines or broken gravity

In short our computers accidentally tapped something where the admin access reads brahma, YHWA, and that loser Panku that might be sealing the Outer gods, one who used his internet connection- originatingfrom the dark web's wet drawer- to try to mail order a bride from Japan, because of Course he did.

Digimon is meeting the standards of "gunpowder chemicals don't exist" and exploring through a commercial licensing brand the cosmic horror meets,weird fiction, or high fantasy of it all.

Physics literally *multiple times* bends to belief AND dreams in digimon.

And this is often a dangerous horrifying thing that gives rise to monsters. Like the dark spore kids and oikawa. Apocalypmon, millennium, the x-virus, and multiple reality resets because everyone has lost the plot and hope reality doesn't just...break down down forever

Also the multiverse is bleeding into each other and somehow Ryo is a lone crosstime contradiction sewn into a reality, maybe. A literal example of a retcon-ed in main character there just LOADED with cheat skills. I e. A jumper!

And he and localheroes needed a team of the expies of all the geniuses of the late 20th century lead by Jesus, who put himselfin a coma to study the emerging digital universe and hacked a vital monitoring device to make an avatar to steal and spread childrens playingcards, to make a compressing program to drain d reaper back into his ancient crypt before it deleted the universe in the name of system debugging

vital physical functions semi regularly developed minds and went rogue. The soul has programming presence. Time and history is edited and copied.

The gods are reincarnating to play put old grudges or rewrite a new ending for their legend or the world

Sora married Matt who went to Mars when aiming for the moon! Yolei is straight.

It's madness held together by sheer hopes and dreams and overworked technocrat overlords!

In short the world acts like its made contact with a digital reality that was stopped out of humanity's ID bridled by man's incomplete ego wielding the fires of (insert extant mythological force here) because previous users threw up their hands by the time modems and the Apple II came 2 be and popped open a crash course for job training before bouncing trying find the architects or battle the real issues in the guts.

[allthewayonmars]

blood roses (one)

“Blood roses are not deadly but, they can make you slightly feverish and numb if you get pricked by them.”

Loving you was a mistake, a terrible mistake that one should not make if one values one's sanity. I fell hard for you and now I have to pay the price of that. “They can make you slightly feverish and numb if you get pricked by them.”I got too close and you pricked me. You fooled me into thinking that what we had was mutual and here I am, stuck. 

It was never always like this, you used to be kind and attentive but you changed. I can’t tell when it happened, its all a blur-

I was always anxious growing up, to the point of me having to be excused from my classes on the weekly basis. My parents were sweet enough to have removed me from the entire public school system and I was stuck in as a homeschooler. I craved to be around people if I’m being honest. I would constantly beg to be put back on the daily basis but, it was better for me to be away from other at that stage. 

One day I made up my mind that I would be attending a public university, all I had to do was to convince the parents, should be easy right? Wrong. It turned into an argument every time and, every point I would bring up but be shot down with a perfectly concocted counter-argument. But I got them to stumble and somehow it was early August and I was packing to move away to my new dorm, my new life. 

The “getting used to things” stage was easy, I found it simple to assimilate. Walking around campus was the one difficult place. The anxiety would never let my head rest for a moment, it felt like buzzing more than words and I felt eyes all over me constantly. There was one day that was particularly harder for me than the rest, the stress of not receiving the desired grade that I believed I deserved paired with the eyes and the buzzing additionally paired with the twenty-five-minute walk to my room did not make things better. As I attempted to speed-walk my way through campus I bumped into someone on accident. With my luck, I tripped and fell and my face almost made contact with the ground but, the mystery person grabbed my arm, saving me from complete embarrassment. Pulling myself away from the person, I finally glance towards the person, and there lay the most beautiful auburn-colored eyes paired with honey-browned hair on top of his head. I mumbled out a pathetic “sorry” as I sped past him. 

I wish I could say that would be the last time that I saw him. The second time I was sitting at a coffee shop struggling with a paper that was due later that day. I never drink coffee but the scent of ground coffee beans consumes me, so I end up finding myself drawn to coffee shops. The shop was not busy but it wasn’t empty either and you could tell that the employees were glad to have this downtime. I heard the little jingle that the door makes when someone enters and I just so happened to be in that direction. I notice a person in a “not too dark” but “not too light” blue hoodie and sweatpants walk toward the counter to place an order and I could hear him speak clearly over the light jazz music that was playing in the background. 

“A two-shot expresso with light almond milk and a teaspoon of sugar.” 

His voice sounded smooth and he spoke like a politician. His words could cast spells in the way he spoke. I look back to my screen but I couldn’t help but return to him, I was enthralled. He paid with cash, specifically a twenty-bill, and place the change in the front pocket of the hoodie. He turned to walk to the nearest table and sat as he pulled out his phone and that was where I could see him clearly, the same auburn-colored eyes and his hair. There were distinct curls in it and his hair was to the length that you could tuck it behind your ear. Looking down I could distinguish what looked like to be videos as he swiped through them. 

An employee entered from the back with a drink in hand, reading the label on the cup she said in a raised volume-

“Caleb”

Caleb stood from his chair and placed the phone in his pocket as he walked toward the employee. He shot them a quick smile thanking them before taking the cup away from them. As he walked to the exit I see him look back at me and smirk before pushing the door open. I was in shock, did he know that was watching him the entire time? If he knew why did he say something? Flooded with questions I look back down at my screen and see the time and frantically return to writing my paper. 

[emeraldiis]

Falling for a God

A/N: Forgot to properly post/format this fic, so here ya go ya filthy animals (ok but i wrote it so I’m filthier)

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Summary: “Tell me, does being touched by a god make you nervous? I can feel you quivering, are you afraid?” Loki pauses, then leans down until his lips are almost touching your ear. “Or is that arousal I sense?”You have a huge crush on Loki, there's lots of sexual tension, y'all fuck. That's the plot.

“Nat,” you whine. “I feel like you’re not even listening.” You prance to the front of her, spinning around to walk backwards.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Wow, are you sure you aren’t pyschic?” She keeps up her brisk pace, and you nearly trip over yourself trying to keep up.

“That’s so rude!” You exclaim, but can’t hold back a giggle. Despite her cold demeanor, you know that Nat is just messing with you. Shooting a quick glance backwards, you decide that your path is clear, and return your gaze to your friend. “You’ll tell me if I’m about to run into something, right?”

With a wry grin, Natasha gives you a thumbs up. You beam at her. “Anyway,”  you continue. “I started watching this new TV show last night, and it is so, totally awesome. There’s this guy, and he has these badass powers, and he’s fighting this girl, and she has-”

Thump.

A small oof escapes from your mouth as your back collides with something solid. You pitch forward in surprise, and yelp as you try to stabilize yourself before you fall. Large, warm hands grab your waist, tightening around you to keep you from toppling over. You sigh in relief as your frantic heart slows to a normal rhythm. “Wow, thanks,” you say, and spin around to reveal the identity of your saviour.

Piercing blue eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat. “Careful, pet,” Loki murmurs softly, a sly grin spreading across his lips. His hands slide off of your waist, making contact with the sliver of skin between your shorts and your top on the way. An involuntary shiver creeps up your spine, and you bite your lip.

The reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the ever-perceptive trickster, and his eyes flash with surprise. “Are my hands really that cold?” Loki teases. “Perhaps you could help me warm them up.” His tone is playful, but there’s something deeper underneath his banter that makes you think he’s actually flirting.

You can tell that your cheeks are red, and you choose not to respond to Loki’s question in fear of making an even bigger fool of yourself. A stammered apology tumbles from your lips, and you look back towards Natasha with a look of betrayal. She grins and shrugs. “I forgot to warn you. Oops.” Your mouth drops open. That scheming little devil. She knows about your crush on Loki, and she still allows you to make a fool out of yourself?

Your interactions with Loki were sparse, to say the least. Aside from a few casual conversations in a group, you had barely even talked to him. Still, he captivated you from the very first day he arrived at the compound. He was exactly your type; tall, dark, and brooding. Aside from Thor, most everyone gave Loki a wide berth, hesitant to forget the battle for New York. You, however, didn’t see a villain. You saw pain behind those blue eyes, and could empathize with Loki’s behavior. You knew all too well that it hurt to live in someone’s shadow, and sometimes acting out was a cry for help. Granted, Loki’s outbursts were far more drastic than yours had ever been, but it was more or less the same on a base level. And, the fact that he constantly had a witty remark on the tip of his tongue never ceased to entertain you. The man liked to hear himself talk, and damn, so did you.

It takes you a second to realize that you’ve been staring. You clear your throat awkwardly and look to the floor, eager to hide your discomfort. “Um, thank you for catching me,” you manage. When you look back up, Loki is wearing an odd expression. His pretty eyes are narrowed, searching your face. The scrutiny only embarasses you further. “Well, see you around!” WIth that, you dart around Loki and scurry off. Natasha follows you, snickering softly.

When you reach the common area, you plop yourself down on the couch and groan, throwing an arm over your face. Natasha sits down beside you. “Smooth,” she says, drawing out the word obnoxiously.

You remove your arm from over your eyes and give Natasha a withering look. “So not funny.”

Nat positively cackles at that. “Oh, come on,” she says. “He’d be an idiot to not at least have a thing for you, I mean, you’re smoking! ” She looks you up and down. “Nice rack, too.”

A giggle bursts from your lips. “Nat. Oh, my god. Stop objectifying me.”

Shaking her head, Natasha replies, “Me, objectify? I would never.”

That earns her an eye roll from you. “Sure. Anyway, can we please change the subject? I’m sick of talking about my embarrassing Loki crush.”

“What does ‘crush’ mean?”

You freeze. Now that was a distinct voice. “Thor,” you choke out. “When did you get here?”

Thor walks up behind the couch and swings himself over the back, making the poor piece of furniture creak in protest. He settles next to you, effectively sandwiching you between him and Natasha. “Just long enough to hear you discussing my brother. Now, will you please enlighten me on this strange Midgardian term?”

Before you can shut him down, Nat pipes up from the other end of the sofa. “It means she likes him. Romantically. Sexually. ”

The temptation to throw yourself onto the floor wailing is high. Instead, you opt to beg for your life. Still embarrassing, but slightly more productive than throwing a tantrum. “Nat!” You screech. You turn to Thor with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t say anything to him.”

Thor furrows his eyebrows. “What an odd expression. You’d think that the word “crush’ would be associated with something negative.” He places a big hand on your thigh. “If what Lady Natahsa says is true, then why would you not tell my brother? He is quite vain, you know. I’m sure he would be delighted to know that a beautiful woman is attracted to him!”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. These Asgardians will be the death of you. “It’s not that simple, Thor. What if he rejects me? I’d never be able to show my face around him again!”

There’s a pause, and then Thor asks you in a much gentler tone, “It seems as though you care for Loki a great deal more than you are letting on. Are you really afraid of embarrassment, or is it the heartbreak you fear?”

You’re glad that your hands are covering your face, because the way the color drains out of it at Thor’s question would have given you away. “No,” you mumble through your fingers. But he’s right, you do care for Loki more than you’d ever admit. His image ran through your head at night when you were trying to sleep, and his voice was what came to mind when your fingers were between your legs and you were pretending they were-

You rub at your eyes, then look up at Thor in desperation. “Please, if you really care about me as a friend, you’ll keep this secret.” You shoot a look at Natasha. “You, too. I may not be able to take Thor in a fight, but I could kick your ass.” You know you sound like a pathetic teenager, but you’re past the point of caring. You were perfectly happy admiring Loki from afar, and didn’t want to get your hopes up just to be met with shame.

Natasha scoffs. “As if.” Before she can continue. Thor holds up his hand.

“Lady Natasha, I believe we should stay out of this. I have done a great deal of meddling in my brother’s life, and I’ve learned that even the best intentions can cause disaster when Loki is involved.

“Thank you, Thor,” you say gratefully, relief evident in your voice. With a tired sigh, you hoist yourself up from the couch and turn to face your friends. “Well, I think I’ve had enough excitement for today. I’m going to hibernate, see you next spring.”

Natasha giggles and blows you a kiss goodbye while Thor scrunches up his face in confusion at your joke. Oh, well. Maybe he’d understand Midgardian humor one day.

*

Thunder rages outside your window while you toss and turn. You roll over to glance at your clock, and scowl when it flashes “3AM.” Giving up on the prospect of sleep, you opt for creeping to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your bare feet pad down the carpet, and you shiver slightly at the cold air of the hall. Goosebumps rise on your bare legs and you start to regret your decision not to put on pants.

To get to the kitchen, you have to walk through the common area, and for a moment you linger just outside the entryway. There’s a soft glow coming from the corner of the room, and you mentally groan, hoping it’s one of the female inhabitants of the compound. You weren’t too excited at the idea of walking past one of the guys in just a sleep shirt and underwear. Still, your mission for food is not one you’re willing to give up on. Taking a deep breath, you step out of the hallway and into the room. And nearly pass out.

Across the room, perched in one of the loveseats, is Loki. He’s sitting with his legs curled underneath him, thumbing through a book. You consider darting back into the safety of the hall, but you’re too late. Loki has already noticed you, and is now staring far too intently for your liking. Suddenly feeling very exposed, you tug on the hem of your shirt, trying to pull it further down your legs. “Sorry to disturb you,” you whisper, afraid to break the deafening silence. Loki raises an eyebrow at you, then turns back to his book. You aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed when his gaze leaves you.

Not wanting to linger in the entryway any longer, you make your way across the room, keeping your eyes down. As you pass Loki, a loud clap of thunder booms outside, and already being on edge, you yelp. Startled from the deafening sound in an otherwise quiet room, you stagger, falling backwards onto the loveseat. Right next to Loki. The sofa is small, and in your splayed out position, you’re almost half on top of the god.

Loki flinches away, and you immediately begin to apologize. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I guess I just lost my footing. Did I hurt you?” As you talk, you push yourself off of Loki and cower into the other side of the loveseat. Some more rational part of your brain urges you to get up, give him some more space, but you don’t listen. As embarrassed as you are, you’re not quite ready to give up this closeness to the object of your affection.

With a huff, Loki straightens himself and gives you a cool look. “You did not hurt me, mortal. I was simply surprised.” Then, having composed himself, he smirks and sets his book on the end table beside him. “I suppose it is only natural to have weak knees in the presence of a god.”

The comment lightens the mood, and you find yourself relaxing next to him. “You’re right, Thor’s thunder does make me a tad unsteady.”

At that, Loki stiffens, obviously having not expected you to return his teasing. For a brief moment, you feel proud. Then, something changes in his expression, and he scoots closer to you. His hand finds your bare thigh, and the contact sends butterflies through your stomach. Loki senses your restlessness and gives you a predatory grin. “Is that so? Are you telling me that this,” he squeezes your thigh, and you gasp. “Doesn’t make you feel...faint?” His voice is low, and he almost purrs the last few words.

You fight hard to keep your breathing even, not wanting to give away just how flustered you are. The heavy weight of his hand feels heavenly, and you can feel your panties grow damp. God, you hope he can’t smell it.

This predatory tone is so much different than the playful teasing that you usually receive from Loki. You’ve never seen his blue eyes so dark, and the unfamiliarity of it all tightens your stomach.

Taking your silence as a challenge, Loki presses himself even closer to you. His fingers creep up your leg, closer to your underwear. “Tell me, does being touched by a god make you nervous? I can feel you quivering, are you afraid?” Loki pauses, then leans down until his lips are almost touching your ear. “Or is that arousal I sense?”

Fuck. A full body shiver skates across your skin, and despite your best efforts, a small moan breaks free from your throat. Loki’s hand feels like a brand on your thigh, sending waves of heat up your body. The warmth pools between your legs, and you can’t help but shift a bit. Knowing that your panties are the only barrier between your soaking heat and the sofa, you arch your hips ever so slightly to keep from soiling the cushion.

Of course, your small movements don’t go unnoticed. Loki’s eyes are hooded as they rake across your bare legs, and you can hear his breathing get a bit heavier. He looks up at you, pupils dilated. “Oh, pet, look at you. Barely even touched, and already-”

He’s cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall, headed in your direction. Loki curses softly and reluctantly draws his hand away, then moves as far away as the small sofa allows. Your skin aches at the loss of contact.

The interrupting stranger’s footsteps approach the entrance to the common room, then carry on past. You let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, thankful that you wouldn’t have to explain anything. Something tells you that, while there’s nothing going on now, sitting with Loki in the middle of the night might raise a few eyebrows.

You and Loki are alone again, but the moment has passed. Whatever spell that had overcome the two of you is gone, and all that’s left is a quiet room and a dim light. “I apologize, I believe I have overstepped,” Loki says, and for the first time, he sounds...unsure. His voice has lost that arrogant confidence that it normally carries, and he sounds like a child that has just been caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You bite your lip and risk a glance at Loki. He’s still pressed against the opposite arm of the loveseat, and is avoiding your eyes. Without the atmosphere of desire from before, now you just feel...awkward. Sighing softly, you rise to your feet and make your way to the hallway. You pause briefly in the entryway, and breathe out a “goodnight, Loki.” You don’t wait for a response, instead turning and trudging back towards your room.

As you flop back down in bed, you replay the night’s events over in your mind. It almost feels like a dream, and you’re having trouble believing that Loki, the God of Mischief, had actually come on to you. It didn’t seem plausible. You’re just a plain mortal, nothing special, no powers. Sure, your combat skills could rival Natasha’s, but besides that, you can’t find anything about yourself that would attract a god.

Eventually, you decide that maybe Loki was just horny, and you were in the right place at the right time. You did walk out without pants on, after all. No matter the reasoning, you know not to expect a repeat occurrence, given how regretful he had seemed afterwards. Tears brim in your eyes as the reality of the situation hits you; Loki regrets touching you. It seems that your crush was one-sided, and even though you weren’t surprised, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

*

Things are tense around the compound. You creep around corners, terrified of accidentally finding yourself in the same room as Loki. And it seems that Loki is taking the same precautions, because you haven’t even seen a glimpse of him since that night. The ache in your heart from his rejection still keeps you up at night, and you still find yourself pining over him like a lovesick idiot.

Ever the observer, Natasha catches on quickly. “Are you really still embarrassed about bumping into Loki?” She asks after cornering you in the kitchen. “You’re not acting like yourself, and it is beyond obvious something is bothering you.”

You groan at her around a mouthful of a granola bar. “Are you really still thinking about it?” You counter.

Nat rolls her eyes. “Please, it’s hard to pretend it didn’t happen when you’re playing this stupid cat and mouse game. I see you check every room for him, I can’t believe you even care that much. He barely even touched you!”

A piece of your snack shoots down your throat with your gasp. You double over, wheezing and coughing. Natasha slaps a hand on your back, sighing. When you finally catch your breath, you glare at Nat. “Yeah, maybe that’s the issue.”

You immediately regret your words as a fire lights itself in Natasha’s eyes. “Want me to help?”

“Nat, hold on. No thanks-”

“Shush, trust me!” To your dismay, Natasha is already on her way out of the kitchen when she finishes hushing you. You whimper out a half-baked protest, but your friend is long gone by the time the words leave your mouth. Fuck, you’re so screwed.

LIfe  was very quickly becoming a stressful game of hide and seek. You’d resorted to spending most of the day in your room, hoping to avoid Loki, and more importantly, Natasha. You’re not sure what she has planned, but it can’t be anything good. As weeks pass by with no incident, however, you begin to drop your guard. Maybe she’s taking pity on you.

It’s around noon when you get the text. It’s an all caps message from Nat, pleading with you to at least hear her out before saying no.

That’s a terrifying text. I’m listening.

Nat: I may have bragged my way into a drinking contest with Thor, and I need a teammate to make it fair.

You want to try and outdrink Thor????

Nat: I want US to outdrink him. I convinced him that it’d be more balanced if it was 2 to 1.

You owe me.

Nat: :)

It was a terrible idea, but maybe a nice night of getting hammered is just what you need to break you out of your funk. Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself getting excited. You hadn’t really relaxed in ages, this would be a good thing.

As the hours pass, you start to get nervous. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten properly drunk, and you seriously doubt you’ll be able to keep up with even Natasha. Still, a promise is a promise, and you have far too much pride to chicken out now.

The clock reaches nine o’clock, and you sigh. Showtime. Before leaving your suite, you set several glasses of water and a bottle of Advil on your nightstand. If you’re going to fuck over your future self, you might as well try to ease her pain. You take a deep breath and spare a glance over at the mirror against your bedroom wall. You had opted for something comfy, but cute; an emerald green dress that stopped just above your mid-thigh, and fell off of one shoulder effortlessly.

Okay, so maybe you had wanted to get a tiny bit dressed up. You’re sure Nat will tease you for it, but sometimes a girl just wants to feel pretty.

A bit breathless from those pre-competition nerves--yes, a drinking contest was that serious--you make your way to the kitchen. As you round the corner, you stop dead in your tracks. Sitting at the bar Tony had insisted on installing, is Nat and Thor, of course. But next to them, perched delicately on one of the stools, is Loki. He wears a look of disdain, as if this entire competition is beneath him. You hope he can’t tell how badly you want to be beneath him.

Natasha gives you a wicked grin as Thor waves you over, his smile far more innocent-looking than Nat’s, though you’re sure he had a part in this. Cursing your terrible friends under your breath, and yourself for falling for it, you trudge over. Naturally, the only stool left is the one on the end, directly next to Loki. You gingerly hoist yourself up and slide onto the seat.

You stubbornly keep your eyes on the counter, not daring to even glance up at Loki. It’s obvious from the way he’s angling himself away from you and towards his brother that he’s regretting that night, and doesn’t want to be near you. You don’t blame him, humans must seem like animals compared to gods. The reality is that you were a mistake to him, and you just needed to accept that and move past.

Breaking the awkward silence, Thor produces a jug of what looks like beer from god knows where. He grins and gestures to it grandly. As he opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off. “Hold up! I thought this was two against one? Loki being here makes it unfair.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at you. “Yeah, I may have bent the truth to get you to come out. It’s teams of two, but we have a handicap. Our drinks and shots count as twice the actual amount, and they’ll be drinking Asgardian mead. So,” She smirks. “No more complaints, let’s do this shit.”

You swallow nervously at the mention of shots. You could hold your liquor fairly well, but you and shots had...history. Nat knew how touchy you got when you were drunk, and how much of an oversharer you tended to be. Though you have to admit that her plan is almost flawless, you’re still unimpressed with her shenanigans. She’s pretty much set you up to embarrass yourself.

You twiddle your thumbs in your seat as Natasha grabs a bottle of Svedka from behind the bar and begins to pour the beginning drinks. Following her lead, Thor pops open his jug and splits it between two large glasses, then passes one to Loki, who sighs in apparent boredom. He shoots you an unreadable look, then grabs one of the shot glasses that Natasha filled and slides it your way.

With a mumbled “thanks,’ you gingerly take the glass, and look at Nat and Thor. Thor raises his glass. “May the better warriors win!” He announces, then tips back his glass. You roll your eyes at the word choice, but bring the shot glass to your lips and throw your head back. The liquor goes down rough, but you manage to keep your poker face and grit your teeth against any retches.

“The lady can drink!” Thor bellows, wiping at his face.

You shrug, wanting the spotlight off of you. “Um, I went to college?”

Before Thor can question you, Natasha cuts in. “Hello? I took it just as well, where’s my applause?”

“Natasha, you are not a lady,” Loki deadpans. Nat glares and pours herself another shot in response, throwing back the second one just as easily as she had the first. She then points at you. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. Despite everything, Loki was still Loki, and he still had your heart. It seems that the tension between you and Loki dissolves after you laugh at his quip, and he relaxes his stiff posture.

You sigh in relief and reach for the bottle to refill your own glass. This time, it goes down easier. That is, until the burns travels past your stomach, right down to between your legs. You squirm in place at the unexpected burst of arousal. Still, you should have been ready for it. Alcohol has always gotten you a little worked up. It was your mistake to believe you could fight it.

Despite the setback, you keep up with your teammate as the night goes on. Shot after shot, broken up by the easy conversation that emerges as the liquor continues to flow.

You’re not sure when the competition was forgotten, but you soon find yourself splayed on the couch next to Loki, laughing hysterically at some story he’s just finished telling about Thor in his youth. You look over at him, hazily trying to center your double vision to properly admire the god. His cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol, and he looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him.

Loki glances over, catching you staring, but you’re far too intoxicated to be embarrassed. Instead, you hold your gaze, waiting for a reaction. Loki smirks, then eyes his brother with annoyance.

“Brother,” he says, voice a lazy drawl. “I believe we’ve won this contest, wouldn’t you say?”

Thor cocks his head, then widens his eyes in understanding. “Oh, certainly! In fact, I think it would be necessary for me to walk you back to your quarters, Natasha.”

Natasha begins to protest, but it dies on her lips as her gaze flickers between you and Loki. “What a gentleman,” she purrs, only swaying slightly when she rises from her seat. “Lead the way.” Taking his outstretched hand, Natasha stumbles down the hall with Thor, giggling excitedly.

Now that it’s just the two of you, you expect things to get awkward, but find that you’re still just as comfortable. “Well, I guess I have to bow to the drinking champ,” you slur, sitting up to give a half hearted bow.

Loki throws his head back and laughs. “You,” he manages between snorts, “are far more fun to be around than most others on this planet.”

You scoff and wave your hand dismissively. “You’re only saying that ‘cause I bowed to you.” Chewing on your lip, you let your eyes drift back over to Loki. In your drunken haze, he just looks so...comfy. Before you realize what you’re doing, you slide over to lean up against him. Loki’s surprisingly warm, and you sigh contentedly, letting your mind wander back to how his hand felt running up your thigh.

The arousal from earlier that you had forgotten about rears its head, turning your sigh into a shaky exhale that is not at all subtle. The air feels thick, just like it had on that one stormy night, and you press yourself closer to Loki, unable to resist how good his body feels against yours.

Loki freezes for a moment, then seems to force himself to relax into you. His arm snakes around you until he’s holding you comfortably against his side. For one brief moment, you start to wonder if this is a good idea, given how things had ended in the past, but the intoxicated part of your brain tells the sober part to go fuck herself, and then you’re speaking without thinking. “Do you want to walk me to bed?”

Oh, shit. You can’t believe that just came out of your mouth. A wave of sobering panic hits you, and you untangle yourself from Loki and shoot up from the couch. Before you can flee, however, a pale hand grabs hold of your arm, stopping you in place.

Loki gets up, then moves his grip from your wrist to your hand. “I think that is a lovely idea. Allow me?” With the hand that isn’t holding yours, he gestures toward the hall. Well, that was unexpected. You try not to giggle in child-like excitement, and instead nod hurriedly.

Your heart speeds up at the feel of his hand in yours, and you start off down the hall, letting Loki pull you towards your suite. Caught up in trying to navigate the titling floor, you don’t notice that you’re being led the wrong way until the two of you come to a stop at a door that definitely does not belong to you. You look up at Loki in confusion. “This isn’t my room.”

“I know,” Loki growls, then opens the door and whirls you both inside. When you’ve recovered from the swift movement, you manage to pull away from Loki’s grip.

“What-what’s going on?” You say, attempting to sound stern. Loki stalks towards you. Instinctively, you back up, until you’re pressed against the wall with Loki boxing you in.

Loki presses his hands to the wall on either side of your head and sneers at you. “What’s going on?” He mocks. “I’ve craved your body under mine since long before our little nighttime meeting, and I have run out of patience for games.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your neck, grazing you with his teeth. Just like before, his playfulness has given way to a domineering aura, but you’re not complaining one bit.

You barely suppress a full body shiver. “But,” you protest weakly. “I, I thought you regretted it. I mean, you never said anything about it, so I figured...oh…” you trail off into a soft moan as Loki roughly licks up the side of your neck, growling.

“And when would I have gotten the chance?” Loki pulls away from his assault on your skin to look you in the eyes. “You have been avoiding me for nearly a month.” Those blue eyes are staring daggers at you, and you realize that there’s hurt behind all that frustration.

Your mouth goes dry. He’s right, but the eye contact from his smoldering stare is making you forget how to speak. Fumbling with your words, you cast your gaze downwards. “Yeah, I guess I have. But with what you said after we were interrupted....I thought you were uncomfortable with what happened.”

A dark chuckle spills from Loki’s lips. “The only discomfort you have caused me is the nights I have spent spilling over my own hand because I could not have you. ”

You gasp softly as Loki’s words send a wave of heat through your overheated body. Loki takes that as encouragement, and presses himself closer until his lips are grazing yours. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave,” he mumbles, eyes hooded.

Your response is to surge forward, hands flying to the back of his head as you roughly pull him in to kiss you. You both groan at the contact. The kiss is anything but gentle; your fingers are tangled in Loki’s hair, tugging harshly, and you can feel his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. It was far better than you could have imagined, and the dizzying pleasure of it all has you feeling drunker and more sober at the same time.

Before long, the room spins as Loki lifts you and hoists your legs around his waist. He kisses you breathless as he walks slowly down the hall towards what you can only assume is his bedroom. There’s a giddy part inside of you that squeals with excitement at being carried like that, but it’s quickly overshadowed by lust as you and Loki reach his bedroom. He tosses you onto his king sized bed like a doll, then kneels on the floor and yanks your ankles until your bottom is almost hanging off the bed.

Loki slides your dress up and nuzzles the inside of your thigh. “I could smell your arousal the entire night,” he says, nearly purring. “May I taste?”

You sit up on your elbows and stare down at him, face flushed with mild embarrassment at his face so close to your soaked panties. Dumbly, you nod, words failing you. Loki growls his appreciation and hikes up your dress, taking a brief moment to admire the soft fabric. “You look absolutely ravishing in green, I’ve wanted to tear this off of you since the moment I laid eyes on it.” And then he’s sliding your panties down your legs and plunging his tongue into your heat.

A ragged gasp tears its way from your throat and you throw your head back. You feel the grin form on Loki’s lips against your skin, and a fresh gush of arousal flows down your thighs. Loki eats pussy like it’s an art form he’s been perfecting for ages. His lips tug at your pussy, worshipping every fold like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. You open your mouth to make some joke about his silvertongue, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper as Loki drags his teeth lightly across your clit.

It isn’t long before the pleasure reaches its peak.You fight hard to keep your legs from clamping around Loki’s head, but you can’t help it when you crest over the edge of orgasm. Your muscles lock up, your back arches, and you scream. White hot euphoria explodes from your core, spreading through your body like venom. Loki’s tongue works you through it, slowing to wide, long strokes as you begin to come down.

You’ve barely recovered when Loki rises from his knees and crawls up your body, coming to a stop when his face is inches from yours. His eyes are hooded, and his glistening lips are parted to allow frantic, heated pants to escape. “Pet,” he hisses, leaning down to nuzzle into your shoulder. “You taste sweeter than the fruits of Asgard.” He bites at your collarbone, making you shudder in your post-orgasmic haze.

Still out of it, you sluggishly fumble at Loki’s belt. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” you mumble and lick your lips. Loki bats your hand away, shushing you.

“Darling, there will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I need to feel you.” He grabs your shoulders and drags you up to the pillows, so that you’re lying comfortably on your back with him hovering above you.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of ‘later.’ So this wasn’t just a one-night stand? You don’t have time to process that, however, as Loki barely gives you a moment to breathe. He sits back on his knees, straddling your waist, and with a wave of his hand, you’re both stark naked. Your hands twitch, wanting to cover yourself. Being naked in front of an attractive man has always intimidated you, but the fact that Loki was a god made it worse. As if sensing your sudden shyness, Loki leans in to kiss at lick at your breasts, and brings his hands up to pin your wrists to the bed. You sigh in pleasure, insecurity fading with every hot swipe of his tongue, not even wanting to struggle against his hold.

Loki lowers himself to grind against you. His hard cock slides against your dripping folds as his narrow hips press into yours. Both of you shiver, and you arch your hips to bring him closer. Loki growls against your skin and sits up. He lets go of your wrists, roughly grabs your waist and angles it to meet his. “Ready, pet? I can’t wait, I need to have you.” he breathes, eyes locked on yours.

Like a deer in the headlights, you’re frozen, anticipation coiling tightly under your skin. Slowly, you nod. Loki wastes no time. He smirks, then slides himself into you, the stretch burning in the loveliest way. Your heated groan mingles with his, and when Loki’s hips come to rest against yours, he falls against your chest, panting. You appreciate the time he gives you to adjust; Loki’s cock is thick, and longer than anything you’ve ever taken, and you can feel it throbbing desperately within you. Now that he’s released your hands, you bring them up to thread through his soft, black hair. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, nearly purring.

“Tell me when, love,” Loki grits out, fighting to keep his voice steady. The shakiness in his usually smooth tone is arousing to no end, and you can feel yourself clench around him in approval. Loki’s hips twitch at the fluttering of your walls, and though you’re more than ready, you decide to torture him a bit longer.

You bring your legs up to wrap around Loki’s  waist, pulling him closer. He shivers, but keeps his composure, remaining almost statue still. His concern for your comfort makes your heart swell, but you want to see him lose control. “You’re so big,” you whimper out, the alcohol in your system quelling the embarrassment you’d usually feel when talking dirty. You press your face into Loki’s neck, grazing your teeth along the pale skin there.

With a deep growl of barely kept composure, Loki rises up to rest on his elbows, desperate eyes searching yours. It seems that being the God of Lies gave Loki the ability to see through your cruel game, and his expression turns dark, though the neediness is still blatant. You shift nervously as he stares you down, already regretting your mischievousness. “Feeling playful, are we?” Loki asks.

Your mouth goes dry at being caught and your core tightens around him again, earning you a flutter of his eyelids. “I…” you trail off, eyes drifting to Loki’s parted lips. Watching you gaze, Loki grins at you.

“Oh, pet. I think you may be confused. You are mine to toy with, not the other way around.” With that, Loki leans down to crush his lips into yours. His tongue forces its way into your mouth and you whine around it. While his tongue’s distracting you, Loki takes his chance to begin pounding into you at a ruthless pace, and you break away from the kiss to throw your head back and shriek out a moan.

You feel utterly wrecked, stomach clenching and nerves alight with pleasure as Loki continues his assault on your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut, so his teeth nipping at your jaw come as a surprise, sending a whole new shockwave of sensation down your neck.

“You feel so fucking good, pet,” Loki moans, his voice quickly losing its characteristic steadyness. He sighs out something that sounds suspiciously like a whimper, and brings one of his hands down to toy with your clit. Your legs tighten around him involuntarily. “A-ah, fuck,” Loki grits out, increasing his pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming, and the unhuman speed at which Loki’s pounding into you leaves you no time to catch your breath. Moans and whines erupt from your mouth in a constant stream, and Loki keeps his mouth hovering above yours to drink them in. “I wanna cum,” you whimper as Loki’s assault on your senses continues.

“Then cum, pet,” Loki groans, hips stuttering. “ Cum for your god.”

You keen, writhing and chasing your high. As you climb up to your orgasm, you are met with a startling realization that Loki has already ruined you for anyone else. No human man could match the fire that he’s set upon your nerves, the blinding pleasure that mounts with every thrust and kiss. With that settling into your mind, you finally reach your second peak of the night.

Your eyes try to flutter shut, tears brimming at the corners as you wail Loki’s name again and again. Through the haze of your climax, you notice Loki’s muscles begin to tense as he nears his orgasm as well, and you force your eyes to stay open in order to watch him come apart.

Watching Loki cum is almost like a second climax. He speeds up impossibly, mouth hanging open and eyes barely able to stay focused on you. “You’re mine,” he growls out. Choked moans fall from his lips as he nears the edge, and you rake your nails down his back to encourage him.

“Cum in me, please, I need it, make me yours” you ramble breathlessly.

“Oh, fuck, I-I’m so close,” Loki manages, voice breaking. You continue to coo pleas and encouragements at him, and the way his eyes roll back at your wrecked voice gives you an intoxicating rush of pride. Finally, with a whimpering moan, Loki stills, cock pulsing within you and hips twitching as he pumps you full of his cum.

Loki slumps against you, still moving in aborted little thrusts, as if he can’t quite stop fucking you just yet. The weight of him on top of you is heavy, but not unwelcome, and you take the time to bask in the euphoria of having just slept with the god you’d pined after for so long.

“That was…” you start, words failing you.

“Divine,” Loki finishes for you. He slides his cock out of your pussy, and with it comes a gush of warm cum that you’re sure will stain the sheets. He rolls off of you, then guides you onto your side so that he can pull you up against him.

You weren’t expecting Loki to be the ‘cuddling after sex,’ type, so having him spoon you was surprising, to say the least. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, and you find yourself wanting to fall asleep like that; comfortable in his bed and safe in his strong arms.

Still, there’s a nagging question that won’t let you fully relax. Not wanting to expect too much, you brace yourself for the worst and open your mouth to speak. “Loki...what does this mean for us?”

Loki tenses behind you, and your heart breaks at the assumed rejection as he begins to pull away. “Are you...are you not mine? I thought this was-I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. Forgive me.”

This time, your heart breaks for a different reason. Loki sounds so hurt, so unsure of everything, and you can hear a scared little boy behind that velvet voice. “No!” You nearly shout, turning around to pull him back to you. “I want to be yours, I promise,” you say as you tug Loki back into your arms, running a soothing hand down his back. “I just wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted.”

The relief in Loki is visible as he relaxes into you. “Love, I am yours as much as you are mine, do not doubt that.”

The pet name brings a smile to your lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you reply happily. Heart full, you roll back over so that Loki can snuggle into you again, and finally let your drowsiness overtake you. You catch a faint, ‘I love you,’ just before you drift off to sleep, and though it could just be your mind playing tricks on you, you know that you love him, too.