#it’s in like 4 months and i don’t even know what the dress code is or what the theme colors are and i’m stressed about what i’m gonna wear

[stevie-baby]

My cousin’s wedding is really fucking up my concert/festival season this year

[avatarmerida]

So Dana tweeted this and I’m not sure what to label this AU but basically Willow is a baddie skating in the halls and Hunter is a student council member who is always on her case. Do they have magic? Idk. Am I obsessed? Yuh. Also based on this art and this art by @turquoisespace35 this art by @smallpapers and also this art by @gravityfying. Anyway, here’s some huntlow fluff thanks for the inspiration guys! Hope ya like it!

———

Hunter was simply minding his own business, trying to identify the bird in the tree above him and having a rather pleasant afternoon as he tried to destress from his eventful day. To be fair, every day was eventful for him. As a student council member and top of his class, he was responsible for making sure Hexside' reputation stayed pristine. This had earned him a rather unfavorable reputation himself. He was a legacy, he had high expectations, so he needed to do everything in his power to bring everyone to his level. In his mind, he was strict but fair. But the students saw him as a glorified hall monitor.

Which is why he always walked home alone.

As he admired the red bird that seemed to be calling out to him, the pleasant sound of silence was interrupted by a panicky echo.

“Look out!” came a familiar voice, but before Hunter could attempt to ‘look out’ as the voice had advised, his world went blurry and the next thing he knew he was pinned against the tree. When he regained focus, having a few choice words at the ready, he was stunned to find the culprit was one of his classmates.

His rebellious classmate with the most dress code violations. His resilient classmate who always had holes in her stocking and scars and bruises on her knees from skidding and falling so often. His carefree classmate who was the reason he carried a first aid kit with him. His breathtaking classmate whose bright peridot eyes somehow managed to shine through the yellow tint of her safety goggles. His classmate who was… a classmate, and nothing more.

Does she skate everywhere? He thought, knowing her skates were the cause of their… position. Skating in the hall was one thing, but this path was all downhill; even a pro would have a hard time stopping.

“Hunter! Hi! What are you doing here?” Willow casually asked the boy she currently had pinned against a tree, her hands resting naturally on his chest. Even with the height her skates gave her, he was still so much taller than her.

“Well I… I have a life outside of school, you know,” he replied, somewhat lying, his face positively beet red. Her skates made her so much taller, but she had never been this close to him. She had flipped back her signature yellow shades to see him better, apparently he was so close that he was in focus without them.

“I know,” she said plainly. “I just thought you had that big presentation today.”

“Oh that, no that’s tomorrow.” he said, his composure returning at the mention of business. “Really? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s where Amity is,” said Willow, backing up to give him space. “I thought it was the 4th.”

“It is,” he said. “On Wednesday.”

“No, Hunter today is the 4th,” said Willow.

“Wh- a-are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Don’t you remember when you wrote me up on Friday? You said ‘this is the last one of the month’ because the next day was the first and that was Saturday, so then Sunday was the second and then yesterday-.”

“Oh no,” he said softly, the color draining from his face as he realized she was right. His breathing became faster. “Oh no, oh no, oh no! H-how did I mess this up?’

“Hey, it’s okay! It doesn’t start until 4 so you-.”

“It’s almost 3:45 and the school is at least a 35 minute walk,” said Hunter, beginning to spiral. “A-and we always start right on time and I’m supposed to go first and if I don’t go then my proposal won’t be considered and if my proposal isn’t considered then that means I’ve spent weeks preparing for nothing and not to mention if my uncle hears that I-.”

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey,” said Willow, waving her hands in front of his eyes to get him to snap out of it. She placed her hands on his shoulders to direct his focus on her. “Just breathe, okay? Look at me and breathe. Count with me 1,2,3 in and 1,2,3, out. In and out.”

She motioned him to follow as she counted with her fingers, not removing her eyes from his until he felt safe to follow her instructions. Hunter would normally feel silly but it actually helped him. He focused on Willow and while his anxieties did not disappear, they definitely felt less heavy.

“Good,” Willow said gently when she could tell his heart was no longer about to explode. “Now, let’s think of a solution, okay? There’s always a way to help. Now, you’re right; the school is about a 35 minute walk from here-.”

“I know, it’s useless to even think that-.”

“-but I bet we can cut that in half on skates,” she finished with a smile.

Hunter looked at her like she was insane, like there was a punchline coming, but she remained unmoved. She was serious.

“What? Are you gonna carry me to the school on your skates? Y-you’re just gonna scoop me in your arms, and whisk me away as we speed off together into the sunset like you’re some kind of beautiful knight who reached me o-or something? Is that what you’re saying?” The way Hunter said it made it seem like he didn’t believe it was possible but also that he had had this impossible thought before. More than once. He didn’t seem against it.

“Um, not quite,” she smiled. She turned to remove her backpack, a blush gracing her cheeks (though it was nothing compared to the one Hunter currently wore) as she pulled her solution from her knapsack.

“You brought extra roller skates?” Hunter said, somehow not really supposed.

“I literally go nowhere without them!” Willow exclaimed in a bright, bubbly one, as she handed them to him. “They’re my dad’s old pair and I was gonna give them to Gus but they’re too big, but they should fit you! How lucky is that?”

“What, you expect me to do the presentation in roller skates? That’s worse than not showing up at all!”

“No, we can put your shoes in my bag and you can change when you get there,” she said simply. “We can totally get you there in time, I know a short cut.”

She seemed so sure, so genuine, so sweet. Hunter found it hard to keep up appearances as he let out a dramatic sigh as he snatched her skates from her and he leaned against the tree to start putting them on.

“Well, don’t think this means I’m gonna stop writing you up,” said Hunter as he carefully slipped off his shoes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she smiled, gently rolling her eyes endearingly as she went to place his shoes in her bag. She fought back a grin when she noticed the red cartoon birds that decorated his socks, but she kept that to herself.

He watched him struggle with the laces for a moment, they were loose on his ankles but the edges were frayed and were hard to get through the holes on the very top. She leaned down to help him, and when their fingers touched briefly Hunter pulled his hands back like he had just touched lava. Willow said nothing, knowing how prideful he was as she felt his eyes on her as she wordlessly tightened his laces.

She couldn’t help but hope that he was speechless the way she had been the day she had fallen in the hallway. It was the usual game, she was teasing him beckoning him to chase her to give her the citation in person and she had been overzealous and lost her balance skating backwards. But he didn’t taunt her or laugh, but rather rushed to her side riddled with concern. She remembered how there were no words in her head as she watched him drop the cold persona that she had long suspected was an act to lecture her on safety, not because it was a rule or because he wanted to say “I told you so” but because he cared about her.

Willow suspected he wasn’t used to someone caring about him the same way.

“I know you’re just doing this so you can tell everyone how uncoordinated I am,” he muttered after a minute, not knowing how to maneuver the silence. He didn’t really believe Willow would be so ruthless, he was just embarrassed that he needed saving.

“What?” said Willow, genuinely surprised by his harsh tone. It wasn’t his usual harsh tone, it had a twinge of hurt beneath it.

“Well, why else would you be so nice to me?” He asked as she finished the bow. “No one likes me.”

Willow giggled.

“What?” asked Hunter, not used to being laughed at in a way that didn’t feel condescending.

“Boscha’s always saying I’m no one,” she said, rising to her feet. “So maybe I’m the perfect person to like you.”

“Don’t say that!” He said sternly, as he quickly stood up as well, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “You’re not no one.”

He said it with such conviction and anger, as though the idea of her believing she was any less than she was inspired a fury in him unmatched by any uniform infraction or social injustice. He didn’t need to add “because” or “to me” because he felt it was so obvious. She was too vibrant and kind and strong to be no one.

As she searched her mind for a response, she saw Hunter begin to lose his balance and quickly leaned forward to catch him.

“I’m guessing you’re not much of a skater?” she asked lightly, not knowing what else to say.

“I uh don’t have much time for leisure or recreational activities,” he said, clearing his throat as he was overly aware of her hands on him, one on his back and the other gently on his chest. It was difficult to remain professional in such a stance, but if anyone could try it was him.

“Well, consider this a crash course,” she teased.

“What?”

“Oh no, sorry,” she laughed nervously. “We’re not gonna crash. Well, probably not. Well… we’re gonna try.”

“Oh this is a bad idea,” said Hunter, his legs shaking.

“Hey, don’t worry,” she said, helping him regain his balance until he stood by himself. She held out her hand to him and gave him a sweet smile. “I won’t let you fall.”

He carefully took it and allowed her to lead him.

She did not seem opposed in the slightest to be holding his hand, to be seen holding his hand. He mainly focused on keeping his skates facing forward and not knocking into each other, but Willow had a natural balance. He knew it came from practice, that if he wasn’t here holding her back she’d be doing elaborate spins and jumps, but still he felt safe beside her. If he wasn’t in a rush, he felt like he could do this forever.

He just wished he had a helmet.

As they descended down the bumpy street, there was so much for Hunter to be nervous about: falling on his face, being late to his presentation, showing up to his predation with a face that had clearly been fallen on, but the most pressing matter at the moment was whether or not the stunning girl holding his hand could feel how sweaty it was. His heart was racing but not from the cardio. It was a good thing Willow knew where they were going because his eyes certainly were not on the path ahead of them.

This was the longest silence that had ever passed between them, Willow wasn’t sure what to make of it. She had seen Hunter concerned before, but these nerves were new. She tried to lighten the mood.

“These are your fault, you know.” She said, adopting her normal tone as seen in their hallway encounters.

“What?”

“My rollerskates.”

“What? Me? How? I never-.”

“Do you remember my most common infraction before you were always hounding me about my skates?”

“Tardiness,” he said without hesitation.

She smiled, wondering if he remembered everyone’s violations so quickly. “Yeah, I was always running late because Bocha needed to make sure she tormented me before first period.”

“Ms. Park, I assure you if I had known that was the reason I would’ve handled the situation with more-.”

“I know,” she said simply. “But still, you said something once that gave me an idea. I didn’t tell you that Boscha was the reason, I just said I kept getting lost and you said ‘well then, find another way.’ So I did.”

“You heard that and got ‘rollerskate everywhere?’”

“Okay, I might’ve put my own spin on it,” she giggled as they turned a corner, and she felt his grip tighten . “But it worked, didn’t it? I haven’t been late since.”

“Yes but roller skates are still against school safety and dress codes,” Hunter pointed out.

“But they get me there,” she said simply. “And they got me off Boscha’s radar and onto yours.”

He looked at her with wide, worried eyes. “Miss Park, I hope you’re not suggesting that I am on a level with Boscha,” he said seriously and another smile tugged at Willow’s lips as she couldn’t help but notice the disgusted way he said Boscha’s name. How he didn’t even bother to grace her with formality. “I know I may be strict, but I hope you know I would never want to make you feel how she makes you feel. I know she used to sit on the council, but If I ever-.”

“No, no nothing like that,” she laughed. “It’s just, I much prefer being on your radar is all I mean.”

“Oh.” Was all he could say. It still didn’t add up, she liked being in trouble? “Huh.”

Willow saw and understood his confusion. “You’re really into your position on the student council,” she said as though he was unaware. “Sometimes it feels like breaking the rules is the only way I get to talk to you.”

Did she know how every morning he held his breath, worried today was the day she changed her ways? That he wouldn’t feel her breeze as she zoomed by him in the hall, her braids coming undone as she maneuvered through other students like a maze? She had never injured anyone (besides herself) and she technically wasn’t running and hadn’t damaged any school property, but Hunter had scoured the handbook for something to say about it. Because he just wanted an excuse to talk to her.

“And you… like talking to… me?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said simply. No hesitation, no eye rolling, no sarcasm. How could that be true? “Ya know, you’re not as uptight as you want everyone to believe you are. I think you’re secretly a big sweetheart.”

“Me?” He scoffed, he had certainly never been called that before. Not even ironically. “How am I sweet? I write you up every day!”

His voice shook as they quickly moved to avoid a pot hole but Willow never let go of his hand.

“Well, yeah but,” Willow couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean, you make a big show of writing me up and threatening me with detention but you never actually follow through.”

“What? I-I have! I mean, I must have at least once er-”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “You always say you could but you never do.”

“Well, t-that’s because it goes straight on your permanent record.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, obviously unconvinced. She was pretty sure those didn’t even exist. She also knew it wasn’t because he didn’t have the power to, because he sent Boscha to detention literally all the time.

She had her theories, but right now probably wasn’t the right time to voice them.

“I… well, the thing is I…” he offered her a soft look as he tried to find the words. Something in his eyes made her think maybe he was about to confirm her theories. “I think I actually might…”

But before he could finish, the hill became too steep and Hunter promptly lost his balance. He unwillingly surrendered Willow’s hand as his arms flailed to his sides trying to save him from tumbling forward. Willow rolled beside him, keeping her eyes on him as she tried to grab his hand again. When she realized she couldn’t, she improvised and reached out to grab in an embrace, trapping his arms at his side as she clung to him tightly. They continued to skate down the hill at increasing speed as Willow tried to ease gently into the breaks so they wouldn’t go flying.

Finally, they reached flat land and when they did Hunter arrived deeper in Willow’s embrace, his cheek pressed firmly against hers as she shut her eyes, focused on keeping them safe. All he could focus on was how close they were. She lifted him off the ground, not knowing her own strength and all he could do was just be lifted by her.

Their faces were touching, oh Titan their faces were touching!

He swore he wasn’t breathing, he swore time stood still as he floated in some parking lot being held tightly by Willow Park. He could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, a collection of jasmine and mango.

“You okay?” She asked, opening one eye to make sure no damage had come to him.

“Never better.” He squeaked. He wondered if he even weighed anything to her.

“We made it,” she declared gleefully, and he was so close he could feel the smile on her face. He was so lost in the euphoria of being so close to her he had totally forgotten the reason for it. Then his eyes registered where they were.

And in record time too.

“We made it,” he breathed as she set him down. How had he ever doubted her?

“Not quite yet,” she said as she took his hand and led him once again. “C’mon!”

They slid through the side entrance and something about it made Hunter feel oddly… giddy. Willow sped ahead of him like a bullet, her brow furrowed in determination as she raced against the clock.

“Move aside!” She announced to a few lingering students walking through the halls. “Precious cargo, coming though!”

He laughed, in spite of himself, feeling like he was in a dream. Being with her in the hall now instead of against her felt… right. This was how she saw the world: fast, exciting, scary. Normally he was just a mere star she passed by, close for only a brief moment before her orbit spun her elsewhere. But now he was fully caught in her gravity, hoping to be a moon, a sun, a comet; anything that followed her closely. Anything she’d let him be.

All too soon, they were outside the classroom where Hunter was to give his presentation. Willow could see they were still setting up and Hunter would get his chance to do his presentation.

“We did it!” She declared victoriously, wiping the sweat from her brow. “We did-.” She looked up at him in excitement but was taken back when he didn’t share her elatement. Instead, his focus was on her. He was looking at her like she was some precious jewel he had been searching for his whole life. “What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face or-.?”

“You’re amazing,” he said like the phrase took all the air in his lungs.

She gave a tiny chuckle as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear but she certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Well hey, don’t waste all your charm on me, student council,” she teased. “Getting here was the easy part, you still have a speech to give.”

“Right,” he said with a rare smile. Willow wondered why he didn’t smile more, he had such a pretty smile. “Anyway, thanks for all your help. I… really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” she said, and Hunter swore a rosey halo surrounded her. As he was admiring just how picturesque she was, a mischievous smile crept onto her face, as she allowed her wheels to bring her closer to him. “Um, excuse me, student council member Wittebane, but wearing roller skates in the hallway is against school policy, in case you weren’t aware.”

He offered her a shy, playful smile, running his hand through his hair as he leaned against the lockers, absentmindedly sending a chill up Willow’s spine. She caught him off guard and for a moment he was a little silly. Like he felt safe enough to be.

“Well, I guess I have to make an exemption today,” he said, his voice possessing a lighter tone that Willow was certain few people had ever heard. She liked it. She watched him quickly sink to the ground as he began to undo the laces on the skates as she handed him his shoes from her bag.

“Tomorrow morning though, no roller skating in the hallways,” he said, mocking himself as he wagged his finger at her. They both knew she wouldn't listen.

“But what if I’m running late?” She said innocently as she helped him back onto his feet once he had returned to his shiny dress shoes. “I have classes on opposite sides of the school, how else am I supposed to get there in time?”

“Well uh, I’m sure I could assist somehow,” he said, clearing his throat. He owed her one after all. “I could get you a special hall pass or help you plan a route or-.”

“Maybe you should start walking me to class,” she suggested.

“As punishment?”

She shrugged. “If you wanna call it that,” she said, brushing some invisible lint off of his shoulder. “Here, lemme fix your tie. Can’t have you beating my record for dress code violations, now can we?” She made sure he didn’t reflect the journey too much, adjusting his pin as well. Even after all that, he still managed to look so pristine. Maybe it was his posture, or his height, or the sharp definition of his jawline but his demeanor just seemed like it was permanently studious. Like he had a shell that extended to his heart. Like the cracks in his composure could only be seen up close and Willow wanted more than anything to have them memorized. Willow had caught glimpses of these cracks before, when she made a joke that caught him off guard and summoned a smile or dared him to joke back before following up with policy and procedure. These cracks didn’t make him foolish or fragile as she knew he worried they did, no: they made him shine.

The classroom was becoming louder as Amity tried to gain control so they could start and Hunter knew they’d be starting soon. But all he wanted to do was watch her fuss over his tie like she just wanted an excuse to be close to him.

“Willow, I-,” he started and her eyes instantly darted up to him. He then realized that that may have been the first time he had used her first name. He said it so gently, like he was worried he wasn’t worthy of it. She looked at him with wide eyes, like she hoped he’d say it again.

“Yeah?”

“I uh… I guess better head inside,” Hunter said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. Both because he didn’t want to leave and because that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

“Guess you’d better,” she echoed, though she did not release him.

“But thank you again,” he said. “For helping me, for getting me here. No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I have plenty of experience with being a no one, huh?” She said coyly. She knew he was about to protest, but before he had the chance to, she rose up and slyly pressed a quick kiss to his check. “Good luck, Mr. Student Council,” she whispered with a playful wink, doing one more small spin before skating away, leaving him stunned by the lockers.

She knew she had left a faint lipstick mark on his face, and from the corner of her eyes she noticed that he could not bring himself to wipe it off before finally heading inside.

Must not be a dress code violation, she thought to herself. Good to know.

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby Part 4

a/n: Part 4 got split into 2 because it was too long. 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 900 ish

Summary: Jake gets many things to think about.

Previous          Masterlist          Next

You groan in confusion. Something is ringing and it takes time for your half asleep brain to recognize that it is your phone. You reach for it blindly and open your eyes enough to make sure you are hitting the green accept button before answering with a mumbled hello.

“Good morning, Beautiful,” Jake's voice is altogether too chipper for you. “Did I wake you?”

You just groan back. “What time is it?” 

“It is just after 9:00.” You could hear the smile in his voice. It figures that he was a morning person. “The morning is almost over, how did you sleep?”

“Not long enough,” you tell him. “It’s a bold move to call someone in the morning on a Saturday,  I need my beauty sleep.” You can hear him laughing through the phone and it makes you smile even though you haven't had your morning coffee. 

“You’re already beautiful.” He sounds positively giddy.  “And we have to plan our date tonight.” 

“I’m seriously reconsidering it,” you say, groaning as you stretch. “I didn't know you were a morning person, it might be a deal breaker for me.”

“Nonsense, you are just saying that because you can’t hit me with a pillow for waking you up.” His voice lowered. “If I was there I would have a much better way to wake you.”

“I’m not awake enough for that kind of talk.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “I was thinking you would pick the dress code and I would plan the activities.”

You frown, your brain still feels sluggish, “What if I pick a ball gown and you plan a day hiking? I can’t hike in heels.”

“What?” You can hear the confusion in his voice. “No, you tell me what you are going to wear and I will match you and plan an activity based on what we will be wearing.”

“Oh,” you can hear him laughing. “Shut up, I'm still half asleep. So if I said evening gown what kind of night would I be in for.”

“Me in my dress whites at the fanciest restaurant I can get a reservation at.” You can hear the sound of him shifting through the phone. “Honestly that will be the toughest one to swing.”

“What about a bathing suite,” you ask.

“San Diego has lots of beaches.”

“If I dress like a cowboy?” 

“Have you ever rode a horse?” He asks.

“No, but it could be fun.” You tell him, “I have cowboy boots.”

“Let's save that one for a later date.”

“What about if it was business casual?” You are trying to think about other modes of dress.

There is a brief pause, “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

“An Indiana Jones costume?”

“Museum, or a historical site.”

“A Miss Frizzle costume?”

“The science center.”

“What about—.” 

Jake cuts you off abruptly. “You are just listing Halloween costumes you have in your closet aren't you?” 

“Yeah, and you are right it's probably best we save the role play for another day,” you agree. “What if I wear lingerie?”

Jake inhales sharply and you grin. “I will not know if you wear lingerie,” he sighs, “because I am a gentleman and you are a lady and it is our first date, but thank you for the visual.”

“Ok, just wanted to make sure you have something to think about.” Teasing Jake has woken you up and you are looking forward to later today. “How about I wear the standard jean shorts and a t-shirt to keep our options open for the date.”

“Ok, I will plan for that, do you want to meet me there? I can pick you up so where we are going will be a surprise, but I don’t know if you are comfortable giving me your address yet.” He sounds hesitant and unsure, not wanting to overstep and you roll your eyes. Five minutes ago the man was suggesting he would wake you up with sex if he was here. 

“Jake, we spoke for a half hour over two months ago and you stalked every library in San Diego until you found me, and I still gave you my number, I'll text you my address, surprise me.”

After finalizing your plans for the afternoon you stop Jake before he hangs up the phone. “You know, Jake, I’m impressed.”

“Why?” He already knows you well enough to have a slightly suspicious tone in his voice at your cheeky statement.

“We have been on the phone for well over ten minutes now.” You can't stop the grin on your face. “You know I am still in bed and you haven't once asked what I’m wearing.”

His voice sounds strained when he responds. “Kisses, I’m a gentleman.”

“Sure you are,” you agree blithely. “Just so you know it's an oversized university t-shirt with bleach marks and a big chocolate ice cream stain from when I fell asleep watching Bridgerton.” You quickly add, “don’t worry I didn’t get any ice cream on the couch.”

“I am relieved to hear that,” he deadpans. “Your upholstery was my greatest concern.”

“I knew it would be, I am also wearing rainbow unicorn shorts that are way too big and fall off when I’m walking if I don’t tie them tight enough, they also have pizza stains from when I dropped pizza on my lap.” You can hear him laughing. “I just wanted to give you a visual,” you say. “You know, give you something to think about.” 

“Goodbye Kisses,” he laughs, “I’ll see you later.” You smile to yourself after saying your own goodbyes. Talking to Jake was worth the early morning wake up call.

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 4)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Under Age Drinking, and Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Everyone in her life is finally back on the island and she finally has her date with Wilson. But what happens when things don’t go to plan and she starts questioning her feelings. 

A/N: This was way longer than I though it was going to end up being because it was honestly supposed to just be a filler chapter but I honeslty just couldn’t stop myself. 

Masterlist

Y/N and Wilson had been texting for a week before he finally asked her on a date for tomorrow night. She isn’t sure what he has planned, but he said the dress code is formal so maybe they are going to a fancy dinner. Not exactly her favourite idea, she could live with it though. Lacey returned back to the Outer Banks yesterday, so Y/N is going over to her house to cook brunch together. Even though Y/N and Mason picked Lacey up from the airport, the girls need some quality time together. Well, Lacey would do most of the cooking while Y/N snacks under the guise of quality testing and making smoothies for them. 

“I’m here,” Y/N sings as she waves the bag of smoothie mix she brought. Knocking is no longer in her vocabulary in regard to her best friend. “I missed you so much, Bitch! The men in Paris may be hot. But they got nothing on being with you,” Lacey screams as she blindsides Y/N with a hug. Y/N laughs and wraps her arms around the other girl, “I missed you too. But I literally saw you yesterday, babe.” “Yeah, but we spent so long a part for my month-long summer internship,” Lacey complains, “Let’s get cooking. Mama is hungry.”

Y/N moves toward the blender to begin mixing the smoothie blend. “So a little birdie told me that you and Rafe are actually starting to get along with each other,” Lacey teases her friend. 

“Yeah… He’s been acting like a totally different person lately. The teasing is mostly just verbal and he can actually be helpful.”

“Awwww, Y/N/N. It sounds like you have a crush on him. Should I start planning a wedding?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Plus, I met someone last weekend.” 

“Ohh, tell me about him.” 

“Well, he’s sweet, funny, likes to read, he really likes doc-”

Lacey interrupts her, “I don’t want those details. Show me a picture.” Y/N giggles and pulls up a picture on her phone to show her friend. Lacey also notices how similar Rafe and Wilson are but bites her tongue.

 “He’s totally cute, but he looks like he has a stick up his ass.” 

“LACE! He does not! Although, he doesn’t use contractions and goes to sleep at like 11 P.M., but I promise he is funny.”

 “Okay, but how is the sex?” 

"We haven’t gone on a date yet. We have our first date planned for tomorrow night.” 

Before the conversation could continue, the oven timer goes off and Lacey goes to take out the chocolate chip scones from the oven. “So what are the plans for tomorrow? Do you need help getting ready?” Y/N nods her head, “Yeah, could you help me curl my hair, please? He said to wear something fancy so I was thinking of wearing that black dress that I wore to my cousin’s wedding last year. You know the long one with a spaghetti strap kind of style.” “Ooh, you’d look so cute in that. I can definitely curl your hair. Maybe, I can braid it back like a little crown on your head,” Lacey gushes as she stirs the omelet in the pan. Y/N smiles at the girl and starts playing some music on her phone. 

Brunch is finished quickly and the girls settle in the breakfast nook to eat. “So let’s get back to the topic of Rafe Cameron because we both know you haven’t told me everything, bitch,” Lacey bugs with a shove of Y/N’s shoulder with hers. The slight blush on Y/N’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Lacey. “There isn’t much to say. I mean…” Y/N stops not wanting to admit what she felt last week after having lunch with Rafe, Mason, and Wilson. “Girl, you better continue or else I’m gonna make you cook for us next time,” Lacey warns as she knows where her friend is going. “Fine, last week, after I had lunch with the boys and Wilson, I thought maybe… Maybe Rafe and I were going to kiss.” Lacey beams with excitement at this revelation. “No way! What happened?” “Kie and I jumped into the pool to sink the guys and… when it was just Rafe and me, he teased me about always getting him wet. He took my hand and we got closer, but I got a text from Wilson before it went any further,” Y/N wouldn’t admit it but even she could hear the slight disappointment in her voice. 

“You totally should’ve let him kiss you!”

“No, it was a mistake for us to even have gotten that close. He may be sweet today, but it doesn’t mean I can just forget about him being a jackass. Plus, he is Mace’s best friend. It would be awkward.”

“That’s true, but I’ve always thought there was something between you and Rafe. And I think if you guys really like each other, Mace will accept that and be happy for you.” 

“Maybe. Let’s not talk about this anymore. I have a date with someone else tomorrow anyways.”

———

“So how many parties did you throw and drag your sister to, Mason?” Cassie questions while she sits in her newly claimed passenger seat. Mason groans, “I was only able to convince her to let me throw one and even that was cut short. Not that it was your fault Y/N/N.” Mr. And Mrs. Y/L/N didn’t mind their children throwing parties as long as the police didn’t show up, everyone had a designated driver and nothing was broken. They’d rather be realistic about their children’s activities and ensure they do it safely. 

“Why? What happened?” Marvin looks up at his twins through the back mirror. “Owen was being an asshole when I went out to the gazebo. Rafe and Mace found me before anything serious could happen. Although I did punch him for insulting them, so I might need your help untangling that web.” Marvin shakes his head with a light chuckle, “Like that knucklehead’s lawyers can beat the Y/L/Ns. I swear that idiot’s parents were just as bad as he was when I was in high school.” “How was Bali?” Mason asks. “Amazing. You guys would love the beaches, we’ll have to go back with you guys sometime,” Cassie gushes to her children. “That’s a great idea, my love. Just, kids, remind me to put sunscreen on. I fell asleep on the first day when your mom was at pilates, I woke up three hours later as red as a lobster,” Marvin chimes in. This causes the whole car to laugh. 

———

Y/N is getting ready for her date with Wilson. She does her makeup while Lacey lightly curls her hair and braids the front pieces back to create a crown. “Has he given you any hints about where you are going?” Lacey inquires, returning to sit in the bed after finishing Y/N’s hair. Y/N pauses with her makeup sponge in hand and turns towards her, “Nope. If it’s just dinner, it should be fine.” 

“It’s basic though. You hate those types of dates. You need more excitement.” 

“Yeah, but at least it’s not like dumpster diving.” 

“I mean he could still do that. Maybe he just wanted it to be fancy.”

“Oh my god, could you imagine?”

Both girls fall into hysterics at the notion, which catches the attention of a certain boy passing by the open door. Rafe pauses as he walks past the door and upon hearing the laughter, stops. He wants to go inside to investigate the reason behind it. He quickly starts to walk again toward Mason’s room, “Where are Y/N and Lace going?” “Oh, they aren’t going anywhere. Lace is just helping Y/N/N get ready for a date with Wilson. Can you believe she actually wants to go out with him?” Mason states without so much as looking away from the video game he is playing. “A date? Really?!” “Yeah. Now, dude, hop in before I get creamed by these guys.” Rafe does as he is told but he could not stop thinking about what Mason said. Y/N has been on dates before, but something about Wilson screams bad news for Rafe. All of Y/N’s other dates were obviously not serious about her. They just liked the novelty of dating a Y/L/N and were not into dating men. Wilson seemed too serious at lunch to want to date around like the other boys Y/N has dated. 

“I have to go, my dad wants to go to the country club for dinner. Bye, love you.” Rafe hears Lacey say from down the hall. The sound of her footsteps and the front door opening prompts him to say, “I actually forgot to get some snacks while I was downstairs. I’m going to go get some now.” “Okay, dude.”

Rafe makes his way to Y/N’s room and leans up against her door frame to watch as she looks at herself in the mirror. “Well, don’t you look like a disaster, Y/L/N,” Rafe teases. “Haha, very funny. But seriously. Does this dress look okay?” Y/N asks timidly. Rafe wanted to say that it doesn’t just so that she would take more time looking for something else to wear and miss the date, but the look of uncertainty on her face makes him forgo that tactic. He also wanted to be honest with her; the truth is the dress she wore wouldn’t be the dress he’d want to see her in if he took her on the date. “While you looked amazing in that dress at your cousin’s wedding, I think this dress would be much better,” he answers as he walks towards her clothes and takes out her long black dress with a column skirt and halter top. He had seen her wear it last year to her dad’s 45th birthday bash. Rafe remembers having some inappropriate thoughts about the dress for a family event. Y/N nods at the suggestion and goes to try the new dress on in the bathroom. 

She comes out with a smile on her face and does a little twirl for him, “Rafe, this is perfect. Thank you!” She gives him a hug, which he returns. He was correct; she looks like an absolute vision and it kills him that he isn’t the one taking her on the date. That he was honest with her and now Wilson will get to see her in Rafe’s favourite dress for a date. Although, Rafe wouldn’t take her anywhere fancy on their first date. He knows it would make her nervous if he did, so he would take her to the bookstore first and buy any book she so much as glances at. Then he’d bring her over to his house to bake some cookies for their dessert after dinner, which would be a picnic on the beach at sunset. He would make sure to bring a sweater and an extra blanket for when the night breeze sent goosebumps up her arm. He has to shake himself out of his daydream before he stares too long, “No problem. Have fun on your date. Be safe and I’ll probably see you when you get back because I’m too lazy to go back home.” Rafe makes a quick exit back towards her brother’s room. 

Y/N notices the upset look on his face and assumes it is because of the thought of his father being home, the most likely reason why he is sleeping at her house again for the fifth night in a row. At this point, he might as well just move into their guest bedroom. Everyone in the Outer Banks knew that Ward Cameron had a favourite child and her name was Sarah Cameron. This caused Rafe to constantly try to get Ward’s approval so he could feel the same paternal love his middle sibling got, but no matter what he did it still led to arguments between the father-son duo. It didn’t matter that Rafe had continuously dominated the breaststroke events in swimming, he still wasn’t good enough in the eyes of Ward Cameron. She would be wrong though; the reason why he is upset this time is the fact that she is going on a date.  Before she knew it, a knock was at the door and she heard her father answer the door.

She walks towards the landing overlooking the front entrance. “Hello, I am Wilson Porter and I will be taking Y/N out on this fine evening. I hope you are in accordance with this idea, Mister …,” Wilson greets while holding out his hand for her father to shake. She realizes she still hasn’t told Wilson her last name yet. Her father takes Wilson’s hands and shakes it, “Hey, it’s Mr. Y/L/N. And I am fine with you taking her on a date as long as you have her home by one.” Y/N hopes Wilson doesn’t make the connection to her mom. Y/L/N is a common last name. “Of course, Mr. Y/L/N. punctuality is my specialty. Ah, there is the woman of the hour. She looks radiant.” Y/N is surprised she doesn’t blush at Wilson’s compliment; she could’ve sworn she was on fire when Rafe was raving about how she looked, “Thanks, Wilson. Are you ready to go?” “I absolutely am. Right, this way,” Wilson leads Y/N towards his car and goes to the driver's side. She thought he would open the door for her, but when he doesn’t, she quickly scrambles to get in so it isn’t awkward. 

———

The car ride was filled with pleasant conversation. Wilson mostly talked about Cassie’s books, which doesn’t surprise Y/N considering she knows he wants to become a writer as well and some of her mother’s earlier works are his favourite books. They arrive at La Fleur Bleue, an expensive French restaurant. She isn’t thrilled to be here considering the portion sizes are so small. They enter the restaurant and are led to their table. They look at the menu, when Wilson speaks up, “Do you think I could order for us? I think I have you figured out and can pick you something you love.” “Sure, I’m not too sure what I want to get anyways.” “Great,” Wilson waves the waiter over to order, “Hello, we are both going to have the quiche loraine with a bottle of champagne, please.” The waiter nods, takes their menu and goes off to put their order into the kitchen. “How did you get them to not check our id?” Y/N is astounded at the strings he could pull or hopes she isn’t dating someone who is 21 without her knowing. “My dad is a silent partner here, so they generally look the other way as long as the restaurant isn’t busy,” Wilson explains. 

At least, she knows he isn’t dating her for her money. While waiting for the food to come out, Wilson starts up the conversation again, “So have you had the chance to read The Wisp of Forever? Is it not a literary masterpiece? I mean hardly say this but Conan Austin’s work could rival Cassie’s”

“No, I haven’t had the chance yet because my tbr is so long. But also, it doesn’t really seem to be my type of book.”

“You should stop filling your time with Book’s Instagram and Young Adult Fiction. It’s all nonsense you will grow out of and look back on with disgust. The books I read help fill you with knowledge and enlightenment. They are also realistic.”

“Well, I like YA and Bookstagram. I actually enjoy the books I read from there. Also, it’s nice to read about people going through similar issues as me,” she says as nicely as she can. She is used to this response from most adults in the Outer Banks community, so she has the response memorized. Before Wilson could retort, the waiter comes back with their food and champagne on a tray. The first thing she notices is how tiny her quiche is. It definitely will not be enough food for her, but she doesn’t want to complain about it because of how expensive the food is. Even though her parents have generational wealth, Cassie and Marvin raised their children to be cautious of pricing and that just because they have the money now, doesn’t mean that it can’t disappear with one bad decision. She’ll just make grilled cheese when she gets home. As she eats, she notices she is shivering. The AC is on so high right now. With nothing to cover herself with, she tries to continue eating. 

Dinner went and passed with pleasant conversations about themselves. “Would you guys like to look at the dessert menu?” The waiter offers after clearing their plates. Y/N is about to speak up, but Wilson beats her to it, “No, we actually have somewhere else to be, so just the check, please.” The waiter returns with a check and places it on the table between the pair. Wilson pushes the bill close to Y/N. She isn’t one to expect the man to pay for the first date every single time, but she thinks that whoever asks the person out and chooses what to do should pay for the date. Or at least split the bill. She doesn’t want to make a scene, so she pays the bill without a word. Maybe, he just wants to reverse the unfair expectations of men always paying, which she could get on board with. Wilson gets up in a hurry and makes his way toward the entrance, leaving Y/N to run after him. He opens the door for himself and walks through. This causes the door to shut in her face. Y/N awkwardly opens the door for herself and gets into Wilson’s car. 

“So where are we going to now?” Y/N asks to break the silence. “We are going to a showing of Hamlet at Kildare Theatre. I hear it is an amazing performance.” Y/N is a little disappointed at the notion. She has nothing against Shakespeare and actually enjoys reading his comedies, but she finds watching the actually plays boring and can’t remember the last time she could stay awake through one of them. “Oh, cool. Sounds fun.” They arrive at the theatre house and settle down into their seats. As she watches the play, she has to gently pinch herself every time she nods off to keep herself awake. By the time the play finishes, Wilson takes her home and she gives him a peck goodbye before going inside. 

———

She enters her home and looks at the grandfather clock in the front entrance to see it is 12 A.M. At this realization, she notices how her stomach grumbles. She goes to change into Rafe’s Led Zepplin shirt and comfy shorts. She puts her hair up into a messy bun then makes her way downstairs to make a grilled cheese. “Did you have fun on your date, Y/L/N?” she hears from behind her while she is turned toward the counter wall. She jumps out of surprise, “God, Rafe. We need to tie a bell around your neck. And to answer your question. Yes, I did have fun.” She lied because although he planned a pretty boring date, she didn’t mind Wilson’s company. Rafe is wearing his light gray zip-up swim sweater on top of his salmon t-shirt with basketball shorts. His hair is all messy, he probably just woke up. She wishes she could just reach up and run her fingers through his hair. “I smell lies. If you had a good time, then why are you here making a grilled cheese in the dead of the night?” Rafe points out. “Even if the portion sizes are small, I can still have fun on a date, Rafe,” She argues. “Whatever you say, Y/L/N,” Rafe comes over and takes the pan out of her hand, “Come on, let’s go to McDonald’s instead.” 

He takes her hand and gently guides her to where he keeps his keys at the front entrance so he can pick them up. Once he has his keys, she opens the front door for them to head to his car. He jogs ahead and opens the passenger door for her. She whispers her thanks and takes the hand he offers her to help her get up into the high jeep. Wilson didn’t open the car door for her. 

Most of the car ride was spent making fun of Mason and singing along to Rafe’s playlist. She notices most of the songs are her favourites. When they get to McDonald’s, Rafe is quick to help her out of the car and open the entrance door for her. She has to admit it is nice to not have a door slam in her face. They pick a seat near the back close to the window and Y/N tries to get up to go with Rafe to order, but he stops her, “I’ve got this, Y/L/N. Just stay here.” Y/N listens to what he says and watches as he orders the food. She’ll have to remember to pay him back on the way home. A few minutes later, he returns with the food, “Ten piece chicken nuggets with fries and Sprite for you. And a BigMac with fries and a coke for me. I’ll get our ice cream after we finish,” he recites as he places her food in front of her. 

“Thanks, this is honestly exactly what I need.”

“No problem. Couldn't have you go hungry. So where did you guys go?”

“He took me to La Fleur Bleue, then we watched Hamlet at Kildare Theatre.”

Rafe chuckles at the look of slight disappointment he saw in her eyes, “I swear that place has the smallest portion sizes. It’s where Rose likes to eat when she wants to diet. However, you must’ve loved the play. You always looked so cozy taking those naps whenever we go to one for school.”

“Oh, it was so fun. I think I still have an imprint on my arm from every time I pinched my skin to wake myself up,” Y/N jokes back, showing him her arm to further the joke. The belly laugh that Rafe lets out causes heat to reach Y/N’s cheeks. She likes making him laugh like that. “I’m going to go get the ice cream now.” Rafe gets up and walks back to the counter to order. Y/N once again notices a chill overcome her tonight and sees how her arms are covered in goosebumps. She should’ve grabbed a sweater before she left. 

Rafe makes his way back to Y/N, noticing the bumps on her arms. Either she always forgets to bring sweaters with her or she is stubborn enough to not wear one to not disturb her aesthetic. He places the ice cream on the table; quick to remove his sweater for her. He hands over the sweater to her without saying anything. How come Rafe noticed she was cold and Wilson didn’t? She takes it and shrugs it on, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” Rafe watches as Y/N happily takes a bite out of the Oreo flurry he bought her, “Why don’t you eat any other flavours other than Oreo? Even when we get Dairy Queen, it is always an Oreo blizzard.” She is shocked he pays enough attention to her to notice it, “Oreos remind me of the one time when we were little that you, Mason and I would get along. Our moms would always bring us Oreos after soccer practice. It was the one time we could share without trying to kill each other. I loved the cookie part and you loved the filling, so I would always let you eat the filling from my Oreo and vice versa.” 

Rafe is a tad saddened by the mention of his mother; however, the fact that one of her favourite ice cream flavours is in relation to a memory of him makes him glad. “I didn’t know you remembered that. I have to confess though, after like the second time of us doing that I was sick of eating just the cream filling. The only reason why I kept eating the filling is because you were always so sad about wasting the filling if you didn’t eat it,” he confesses. “No way! Rafe, you didn’t have to do that.” “It’s okay. It made me sick, but my mom would cuddle me after to make me feel better so it was a bonus.” At the mention of his mother again, a comfortable silence washes over the pair. If she was with Wilson, she’d probably feel the need to fill the silence in a way that would prove her intelligence. They finish eating and head back to the car. 

“How should I pay you back? Do you want me to e-transfer you or I could get you the cash when we get back home?” She offers, pulling out her phone in preparation to make the transfer. “What? You don’t need to pay me back, Y/L/N. I asked you to come out with me, so I pay.” It looks like Y/N and Rafe are on the same page about who should pay when going out. Y/N begins to protest; however, Rafe speaks up again before she could, “I’m serious, Y/L/N. I won’t accept anything you try to give me, so don’t even try.” Y/N nods and looks out the window of the car. She turns up the car radio, beginning to sing along to the music. Rafe glances over at her and starts to sing with her. Much like their drive to McDonald’s, it is filled with laughter and music. Y/N can’t help but wonder why she can’t feel this way when she is with Wilson. She is dating Wilson and is supposed to hate Rafe, but why are they making it so hard to feel the right way about each one of them? 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog    

[maddithefangirl]

Things Unsaid (Part 4)

Warnings: AnGsT, floof

a/n: hey all! thank you so much for your patience on this part! it has taken me so long to write this due to mental health and school, but here it is. (: love ya!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I- You weren’t supposed to see those…” 

“Well, I did, and now we need to talk,” you said quietly. The wind really started to stream through the windows as he quickly got dressed. His ass was more muscular than it had been the last time, more proof that he wasn’t taking care of himself. You force yourself to look away as the conflicting feelings overwhelm your senses. 

“Az…” you said. 

“Hmmph,” he sounded. This had been what he’s been waiting for for months, and now his mouth was dry and his mind was empty. 

You looked down into your lap, not realizing that you were sat down on the side of the bed until now. Looking up at him felt like home, but you had to do everything in your power not to pounce on him and give him the love he had been missing. You loved him. No matter how much you wanted to deny that, you couldn’t. 

As you dared to look at his face again you noticed how far the day has crept into the room, highlighting his face in the most magnificent way. You missed this. He was sitting at the end of the bed and you reached your arm across to grab his hand in yours. 

You didn’t realize you were missing him this much until now. Your heart began to ache with the thought of him hurting. 

“Az. Did you really write to me every day?” You asked. 

There was a pause and then, “yes, my love, of course. There was no other way to ease any of the pain. Well besides the bottle.” 

His eyes stare into yours as you frown. This was not the same male that you knew, and that brake your heart almost as much as he did. 

“You know that that does not make up for what you did, right?”

“Yes, of course not, but I hope it shows you how much I need you in my life. I- I can’t do this without you.” 

You took that with a grain of salt to keep your sanity. 

“Az, I’ll be here for a week in the House of Wind… make the most of it, or I’m gone forever.”

… 

Two days had passed, and you had not seen him. You didn’t know what to do, so you wanted to track down Cassian to see what he knew. These days have been nothing but confusing. You half expected him to be by your side constantly and never let you go, but you knew he would resort to self-loathing and give you space. 

The day was growing long, so you figured someone would be about around this time and went searching the House of Wind. 

Cassian was out on the terrace overlooking the city below. As you made your way to him, he spoke, “If you’re here to ask me about him, then I haven’t seen him.”

You chuckled, “Of course, bro code.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, sweetheart.”

You push him away as you join him holding the railing overlooking the beautiful city. It was the evening, so the lights were starting to brighten below as the sky went darker. It was your favorite time as you loved to watch the transition from day to night when the stars were just starting to show. 

“How did it get this bad?” he asked.

You sighed. “Well, he fucked up… big time. But after that… I don’t know.” 

“I get that, but… he loves you… you have to know that, right?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I do.” A slight smile crept onto your face as a tear welled in your eye. 

“Just… hear him out, okay?”

“Mhm.” That was all you could muster to get out. 

The mood was heavy over you both as you heard wings flapping from behind you. When you turned around, there he was, almost panting, on his knees before you. Your jaw dropped as he took your hands into his, “I- I’m sorry.” 

You were in shock. He had never let his guard down more than he had in that one moment. He had tears in his eyes when he looked up at you. Tears began to well in your eyes as well. 

“Y/N, angel,” he huffed, “I came as fast as I could. When I saw you with the letters… I didn’t know what to say. You have infiltrated yourself into every ounce of me, and now you knew that. I got scared that maybe that was too much for you. I left after our talk. I went to the cabin. I needed some time away to really think without having you be so close. I didn’t want to face another rejection. I was terrified. In the cabin, I was able to think, and I came to the conclusion that I will stop at nothing until I get you back. You are all that I have to live for. I have lived for over 500 years, and that would mean nothing if I didn’t get to spend any more time with you.”

“Az… baby… I can’t lie to you. I came here to end things.” 

The air seemed to escape the room as silence encapsulated you both. He looked down to the ground in defeat. 

“But…” he mumbled. 

“But, I’ll reconsider. The letters and the time apart has shown me how much I really missed you and still love you deeply.”

Tears filled his eyes as he stood up to face you, “What can I do to win you back? You once said that love wasn’t enough, but what is? Can we start over at least?”

You stood there dumbfounded. What was enough for you? Could starting over work? 

There was a long pause before you replied, “I would love nothing more to start over, but this is it for me. No more secrets or lies.”

The largest smile you have ever seen appeared on his face. He picked you up and spun you around as you laughed. 

That was the first time you’ve really laughed in months. 

…

You spent the rest of the week you planned on staying in Velaris gathering up your things from your Summer cottage and bringing them back to your new home. With the money you saved up, you were able to find a little cottage on the outskirts of town. It was beautiful with greenery covering the outside and a small fireplace in the hearth. It was perfect. Besides the fact that a part of you was missing ever since you pushed Az away. He was how you made your life whole. In body, mind, and spirit. 

You were sitting in your nook reading a book when a knock came to your front door. A small smile crept onto your lips. When you opened the door you found Az standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Would you like to come in?” you asked. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

You gave him a glass of water and sat at the table with him. It was a little awkward. You didn’t know how to start over. But he took a sip of his water and ended the silence. 

“So, angel, would you happen to have any dinner plans?”

“Well, no I don’t.”

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

You smiled, “Sure, Bat Boy.”

He chuckled and left as fast as he came in. 

The moment he reached outside he went to the skies. He was elated that he was one step closer to getting his partner back. He flew for so long that he lost track of time and had to be issued back by Rhys, who of course, had a short mission to send him on. 

…

By the time it reaches 6 o'clock, you are already ready for his arrival. But little did you know that you would be waiting for a very, very long time.

Taglist: @psychobookaholic @sydneyhasdepression33 @feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @marina468 @mis-lil-red

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

1/2 way done with my ACOTAR re-read and something dawned on me.

Feyre and Tamlin NEVER had a relationship that was healthy for either of them.

1) Tamlin is constantly lying to feyre or omitting truths from her for the whole time she is in the spring court. Yes, part of the constraints of the curse was that he couldn’t tell her, but he never TRIED.

2) Every time they have had some sort of romantic coding, Tamlin is ALWAYS in the dominant position. The moment Feyre wants anything sexual, he pulls away. Sexual advances are only OK if he is the one initiating it.

3) He only ever compliments feyre when she is wearing dresses, EVER. Only when she looks like what he would think is a lady. He only embraces her feminine side when feyre craves to have a balance of feminine and masculine.

4) They officially have sex and he is using his authority over her to send her away even though it’s against her wishes. Was he wrong to send her away? I don’t think so. But he still doesn’t even acknowledge her side of things, he lays down the law like a parent to a child.

5) They don’t talk about things, ever. In ACOMAF we can really see how they use sex as their main way to communicate. Then by the end they aren’t even intimate anymore, meaning that what little communication they had is gone.

6) the only time tamlin lets feyre into meetings is right after UTM, and it’s not because she earned it. It’s because she was his trophy he wanted to show off and use as a symbol of power. Then he tried to marry her 3 months later to secure said power.

7) in the depths of both of their PTSD, Tamlin asks feyre to marry him. And STILL, he refuses to make her an equal. He would rather have him serve in his court than have her rule side by side with him. Both of them were recovering from traumas they didn’t talk about with anyone.

8) In the 3 months between ACOTAR and ACOMAF, feyre was a walking ghost and not an active part in their relationship. Not to mention tamlin grew increasingly paranoid and CONTINUED to lie and keep secrets from her. Then he grew physically and emotionally abusive towards her, stemming from

8) During the beginning of ACOMAF, we see inside Feyre’s mind and we see that she views Tamlin and being fae as her ultimate punishment for killing those two innocents. It is no longer love for her, but an obligation and damnation.

Think about it. They kiss at summer solstice, have sex for the first time the day after. In this scenario they has an unbalanced dynamic. Then UTM where they were tortured for supposedly loving each other. Then 3 months goes by where they both have major unresolved PTSD, two months of further spiraling and paranoia when she visits the NC, and then a week or two later and that’s it. That’s the timeline of their relationship.

There is never a point in their relationship where they are equals in it. Tamlin ALWAYS has power over feyre is always keeping her from knowing the truth under the guise of protection.

I think Tamlin has a lot of shit to work through as a character. He is written as a tragic character, and yah that sucks for him. I think he needs massive therapy. I also think he could be in a loving relationship, just feyre was never the partner for that.

[thunderbunny24]

Second Chance at Love

It has been more than a week since I've posted. Work was busy then took time off to get a 4 day weekend and it's been all family time. This is a short section leading up to what should end up a HUGE part with lots of Matthew. Hope everyone enjoys.

Part 5

            You and Matthew texted off and on for the rest of the day.  It got to a point that you changed the tone his texts made when they came in because you wanted to know instantly if it was him or not.  You texted each other pieces of information about yourselves, favorite things, pictures, funny memes and TikToks.  It got to the point you had to tell Matthew you needed to take a break and put your phone on silent so you could focus on making and having dinner with Violet.

            You had just walked out of Violet’s room after putting her to bed when you received another text from Matthew.

Would it be okay if I called?

            You smiled at the screen then texted back.

I’d like that.

            Your phone began to ring as you were walking into your bedroom.  “Hello!”

            “Hello beautiful!”  The sound of Matthew’s voice gave you butterflies.  “Hope it’s been okay I’ve been bugging you all day.”

            You laughed.  “It has made it a bit difficult to do the script reading I needed to do this afternoon, but I haven’t minded the distraction at all.”  You laid down on your bed feeling like a teenager getting a call from her crush.

��           Matthew cleared his throat and you swore you heard a nervous waiver to his voice.  “I was wanting to know…umm…I was wondering if you were free this Saturday evening.  I, uh, would like to take you out on a proper dinner date…if that sounds good to you.”

            You pulled your phone away from you ear to check your calendar.  “I need to find a sitter for Violet, but that should be fine.  I’m looking forward to it.”

            Matthew lets out a sigh of relief.  “Great!  Text me your address and I’ll be there to pick you up at 7pm.  And I know dress code is important information.  I will look much nicer than I did today.  You don’t have to get as dressed up as you were today…but I won’t complain if you do.”

            You blush and kick your feet in the air.  “I can come up with something slightly gussied up just for you.”  You heard Matthew chuckle.  “I really hate to do this but I have to spend some time reading or my manager is going to flip out on Friday when I told him I’d be through everything I have right now.”

            “Not a problem.  I can leave you alone…at least until the morning.”  You bit your lip.  “Good night beautiful!”

            You softly respond.  “Good night.”  You put your phone face down on the bed and let out a sigh as you roll over on your back and start thinking about how today went nothing like you expected and yet was so much better.  After a few moments, you force yourself to get up and go to your office to start reading scripts, secretly hoping Matthew would still text you.

            You hadn’t felt this strongly about someone as quickly as you did with Matthew ever.  You weren’t sure if it was an age thing, that you had more life experience so therefore knew what you liked and wanted.  Maybe it was being a lifelong fan and this was just the nervous energy that’s like how your fans are with you.  Worst case scenario could be that since your divorce you had only semi seriously dated one guy, but that only lasted 4 months, and you had a handful of subpar first dates and you were so attracted to Matthew because you were just lonely and horny and he was a sweet guy.

            Dating since divorce with a young child always seemed way more difficult because it wasn’t just you who was affected by another person, but Violet too.  You wanted someone who would love her as their own and that was more important to you than how you felt about the person, but that is also a big ask for anyone to take on.  Over the past year you had decided to just not date at all and focus on family and career.  You focused on being enough so that Violet didn’t feel like she only had one parent.  The problem was you had to do the same when she had two parents and all you really wanted was someone to help you with the load.  Someone to tag in when you really needed to tag out.  Your emotional and physical needs weren’t even apart of the picture.

            During the time since your divorce COVID happened, which isolated you from every ounce of help you did have.  Then your parents split because your father came out as gay and then he remarried a man your age while your mother fell for every type of catfish out there and you were always having to pick up her pieces.  At times, it felt like life got enjoyment from kicking you in the ass over and over and you didn’t deserve love and happiness anymore.  Feeling happy and optimistic about a guy you had only been on one date with didn’t feel real and you were waiting for the other shoe to drop.  But for tonight, you decided to just think of how that hand on your back and the kiss on your cheek made you feel seen.  Even if it was just for a moment.

            You sighed, caressed your cheek where you could still feel Matthew’s lips, then picked up a script off the top of the pile and got comfy on the loveseat in your office to get some work done.

[poselyssgeekos]

RESIDENT EVIL OPINION 4

RE1remake - RE2remake - RE3remake

RE CODE VERONICA X

‼️SPOILERS AHEAD‼️

- Quite goofy since it was done in 2000 right after RE3:Nemesis

- Love that we play Claire!

- Steve is as annoying as I was told…

- The game doesn’t really have music, you only hear it during intense fight sequences, cinematic or the save room (love the save room music 🫶)

- why did Claire send a email to Leon so someone could come get her??? Like, lore wise, how would she know that send an email to, LEON? Like once they separate she immediately goes back to searching for Chris, so how do they even keep in touch during the months in between RE2 and code Veronica???

- The map in this game is SO ANNOYING, it’s really hard to figure out what the rooms are sometimes, and the colour scheme is not the best….

- The Steve sequence has no real purpose 💀…HE has no real purpose

- I play with a friend on her ps4, and to me it’s really challenging to play it on the ps4 with the controls, so she plays, and I help

- Love how goofy the antagonists feel (Wesker and Alfred)

- hm the INCEST??? Why did they feel like that was necessary?

- Alfred having a split personality disorder… he dresses up like his sister and becomes her sometimes while she was in her coma, like he loves his sister so much he… ???uncontiously??? Becomes her…

- Enemies are cool ig, just regular resident evil enemies…

- The Tyrant boss fight on the plane was SO DIFFICULT it took at least 10 fucking attempts

-talking about planes… how the fuck does the 17 year old know how to drive a cargo plane?

- The Antarctic part is hell, we had to go and find a walkthrough….

- Nevermind the Chris part is worse 🗿

- Please Capcom I beg you, do a remake!!! You can make some things better!! Please!!!

- Too many rooms that don’t really have a purpose other than give you ammo or plants, with too many objects to collect to be able to move forward in the game

- AleXIa???

- Chris’s hair is BAD in the cinematics that are supposed to look better than the in game models and “low” cinematics

- actually Chris doesn’t really look like Chris…

- Alexia looks like some jenovah wanna be during her first phase

- Alexia obviously has to still look like a woman after mutating…. 💀

- I wasn’t the one playing but it sure looked a bit annoying

-They had the opportunity for Wesker and Chris to have to unwillingly work together against Alexia… and they didn’t

- they could also have made Chris and Claire fight Alexia together but obviously they didn’t

- once Chris arrives Claire becomes the damsel in distress 💀 like come on she went through Raccoon City

- you play Chris a bit more than Claire

- Like it was supposed to be HER game

- And you play her just ONCE more after Chris arrives and it’s 2 seconds, then she cries about Steve and then Chris has to save her AGAIN

- also he’s the one who fights Alexia…

- I mean at the beginning of the game I felt that she was “badass” and independent, so reminiscent of her in raccoon City kinda

- And, again, once Chris arrives….like we french people say, MISKINE! Like her energy completely changes, the man arrives let’s let him do everything 💀

- it’s so weird when the game before this one was re3: nemesis, with Jill as the main protagonist trough out the whole game AND Girlbossing her way through the game… Claire deserves to girlboss too…..

- Steve’s design after the mutation is uh… not the best design we’ve seen

- The ending??? Like my friend said “looks like the ending of a power rangers episode”

- My friend who is used to rating games gives it a 12/20

Notes: Oh! Here’s how we did btw, keep in mind I touched the controller for a few minutes, but kept cursing and getting angry because of my inability to play 💀 so my two friends took turns playing

[thewillofdeez]

Worth the Risk: A Smoker/OC Romance - Chapter 4: Confession, Part 2

Summary: Kuzan forces Smoker into a much-needed, but not wanted, vacation. While there, Smoker runs into a pirate who's been eluding his capture for years. They decide to put their differences aside, just for a little, and as it turns out, two people don't have to be enemies just because they're a pirate and a Marine. They might even fall in love.

Chapter 4 word count: 2730

His tale now finished, Smoker and Tashigi sat in silence for a few moments.

Tashigi was amazed at the story her boss had just told. She was amazed at how incredibly happy he’d looked while telling it. And holy hell, was it the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.

“Say something,” Smoker said, his gruff tone breaking the silence as he puffed on a cigar. “Anything.”

Tashigi pushed her glasses up her nose. “I don’t know what to say. Your story…it’s really beautiful, Smoker. Pirate or not…I’m so genuinely happy for you. I mean it. I don’t care that she’s a pirate, I just care that you’re happy.”

A puff of smoke rose in the air as Smoker huffed out a laugh. “I appreciate it, Tashigi. Really. Never thought I’d be that kind of guy…but here we are.”

“I assume that’s the lamp?” Tashigi asked, nodding to the sole decoration on Smoker’s desk.

“It is,” he said. Smoker reached out a hand and placed it gently on top of the lamp, holding it there for a few seconds before removing it. Just moments later, Smoker’s lamp began to glow brightly. Tashigi could imagine Ruby, hundreds of miles away, holding her hand over the lamp the same way Smoker had.

When the initial glow faded, a message pulsed through the lamp.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

Smoker smiled at the lamp as the last pulse faded, then tapped out his own reply. Tashigi didn’t understand Morse code very well, but she knew enough to guess the content of the messages.

I love you. I love you too.

“So you’re going to see her again? Take another vacation?” Tashigi asked with a smile.

Smoker nodded. “Yeah, in a few months’ time. As our schedules permit. I have so much time backlogged though, it’ll be difficult to not raise suspicion if I start going on leave every few months or so. If nothing else, Aokiji will know something’s up, especially considering the fit I threw about going away this time.”

Tashigi shrugged. “If you feel pressured to say anything, just tell half of the truth. Say you met someone and you’re going to visit them. They don’t need to know she’s a pirate, or anything else for that matter. But no one would begrudge you having a girlfriend.”

“Hmm. That’s not a bad idea,” Smoker mused. “And…you will keep this between us, right?”

“You have my word. As your friend. I promise.”

Smoker nodded, satisfied and trusting his mentee to keep her word.

Tashigi rose from her seat. “Back to work tomorrow,” she said. “You should get some rest.”

“I will,” he said. “You too. I’d like that report you were going to give me in the morning.”

Tashigi nodded, then raised her hand to her face in a salute. “Yes, sir.” And with that, they had resumed their roles as leader and subordinate. “Goodnight, Captain,” Tashigi said seriously, though she couldn’t keep from letting a smile cross her face.

“Goodnight, Tashigi. And thank you.”

The next morning, Smoker awoke alone. He still wasn’t quite used to it, and it still sort of amazed him how quickly he’d grown accustomed to sharing a bed with someone else regularly. Since leaving Pufferfish Island, he’d been waking up expecting to feel Ruby in his arms, but she wasn’t there. She wouldn’t be for some time yet. It certainly hurt, but he knew he’d adjust eventually.

Smoker dressed, back in his Marine clothes for the first time in so long. Checking the mailbox outside of his office, he found a note from Kuzan.

Hope you had a good time. Come by my office when you’re done for the day. Bring the list.

-K

And so Smoker went about his day, getting back into the swing of things. After his morning workout (damn was he happy to be back in a fully-equipped gym), he spent some time with Tashigi catching up on everything he’d missed the last few weeks, then in the afternoon began to tackle the absolute mountain of paperwork that was waiting for him.

Before taking a break for dinner, Smoker decided to make his way to Kuzan’s office. The door was ajar, so he knocked, then stuck his head in.

“Smoker!” Kuzan greeted, raising his arms in welcome. “Welcome back, man! How was it?” Kuzan rose from his desk and began to pour them their usual glasses of whiskey as Smoker closed the door behind him.

“It was….good,” Smoker said hesitantly. “It was really good actually. I needed it more than I knew.” Kuzan smiled widely and handed Smoker the glass, raising his own in a toast.

“Can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that,” he replied, taking a sip of the amber liquid. “And the list? Did you do everything on it?”

“Oh yeah,” Smoker replied, reaching into his pocket and fishing out the list. He handed it to Kuzan.

“Even…?”

“Yep. That too.”

Kuzan punched Smoker softly on the shoulder. “What’d I tell ya? Look at you, you got some sun, some good food, and yes, even a pretty lady. You look more relaxed than I’ve seen you in years. I told you it’d be worth it.”

Smoker laughed and sipped his drink. “It was worth it, you’re right. I really liked it there. I’m actually thinking of going back again in a few months. Start making a dent in that PTO backlog.”

“You should,” Kuzan said, examining the list. “I’ll sign off on it myself, no questions asked. Would this desire to return happen to have anything to do with the pretty lady you met?”

Smoker almost choked on his drink. He felt like he should have known that was coming. “It…might.” Goddamn, Kuzan was too perceptive.

Kuzan chuckled. “I figured as much. Tell me about her.”

Suddenly, Smoker was finding it hard to keep his cool. He’d always been so bad at lying. “What d’you wanna know?”

“Well, who is she? What’s she do? How’d you meet?”

Smoker turned to look out the window, hoping to hide how nervous he suddenly was. “She’s…a local. She works with the community. We met at a bar.” All things that were technically true, certainly no lies there.

“Uh-huh…” Kuzan acknowledged. “Gonna be tough maintaining a relationship with a pirate, but I’m sure you can manage.”

Smoker huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well we’re gonna—” Wait, what did he say? Smoker turned to face Kuzan who was sitting on the arm of the sofa with a knowing grin on his face. “How…Look, Kuzan, I–”

Kuzan raised a hand, laughing. “Smoker, stop. Let me show you something.”

Smoker’s heart was pounding. Kuzan knew? How the hell did he know? Did Tashigi tell him? She wouldn’t, there’s no way….

Kuzan opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled something out. He then offered it to Smoker who suddenly wanted to down his entire drink, then the rest of the bottle in one go.

Smoker took the item from Kuzan’s hand. It was a picture frame. Displayed under the glass was an image of a smiling Kuzan and a gorgeous woman with dark hair and caramel skin, a floral tattoo decorating her shoulder. Kuzan’s arm was wrapped around her tightly. They looked happy. They looked in love.

“You know who she is, don’t you?” Kuzan asked. Smoker examined the picture. Oh yeah. He’d seen her wanted poster dozens of times. She was Hoku Tate, a pirate worth - last he checked - about 150 million. “That’s my girlfriend.”

Smoker’s head shot up to meet Kuzan’s eyes. “She’s….You’re dating a…”

“A pirate, yes,” Kuzan said with a chuckle. “And so are you. Am I wrong?”

Smoker’s head was spinning. “I don’t understand. How did you know?”

Kuzan took the picture back from Smoker, smiling at it fondly. “Hoku and Ruby are good friends, and she told me Ruby had a bit of a crush on you. I’ve met her a few times, she’s a sweet girl who does a lotta good work. Even though you’ve never said it out loud I sorta got the feeling you enjoyed your interactions with her, otherwise you woulda brought her in ages ago. Anyway, we decided to make sure the two of you would be in the same place at the same time and let fate take it from there. To be fair, we didn’t know you’d become a thing. We didn’t even know for sure that you’d cross paths. But we certainly hoped you’d at least have a good time together if you did. And I’m really glad it worked out. Hoku’s gonna be thrilled when I tell her.”

Smoker plopped himself on the couch, reeling at what he’d just been told. So not only was Kuzan - fucking Admiral Aokiji -  okay with him dating a pirate, but he was dating one himself….and the two of them had set he and Ruby up?!

What the fuck?

“This is…a lot to take in,” Smoker said after a few moments of silence.

“No worries, I know.” Kuzan replied. “I just dropped quite a few bombshells on you there.”

Smoker took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “So you and Tate…how long have you been together?”

“Almost seven years,” Kuzan replied proudly.

“Well damn,” Smoker exclaimed. Seven years. He hadn’t even been with Ruby for three whole weeks and it already felt like another three months together would be unlikely. “How do you do it?”

“Do you mean how do we make it work or how do I justify being a Marine who’s in love with a pirate?”

Smoker shrugged. “Both, honestly.”

“Well, for the latter,” Kuzan began, topping off both of their glasses, a good bit higher than he had before. “You gotta remember that pirates are just people. Despite what Sakazuki and Sengoku think, the world isn’t black and white, and most people aren’t wholly good or evil. ‘Pirate,’ ‘Marine’...they’re just labels, man. And think about how many pirates there are in the world versus how many Marines. There’s a lot of us, but there’s a lot of them too, and more coming all the time. Tons of Marines have pirates in their families, even if they don’t talk about them much….look at Garp, for example. His kid’s the leader of the Revolutionary Army. I hear his grandson wants to be a pirate as well one day. I don’t see much of a difference in choosing to be a Marine but still loving your family who took a different path in life and choosing to love a pirate who you know is a good person, despite their role.”

Smoker pondered this and sipped on his whiskey.

“And as for the former….I’m not gonna lie to you, man,” Kuzan said, sitting down beside Smoker. “It’s not easy. Hoku and I don’t always get to see each other a lot. She’s got her own crew, I have my responsibilities to the Navy. But you will figure it out in time, I promise.”

“There’s gotta be something you can give me, something to guide me through this. I’ve never even had a real relationship before….I’ve never wanted one. Where do we even start?”

“Well, there’s a few pieces of advice I can give you,” Kuzan said. “For one, Hoku and I don’t talk about the details of our work so we can avoid accidentally compromising each other. She’s a captain in her own right so it's not like she answers to anyone, but it’s better if she doesn’t know a lot about what my job entails or where I’ve been or what I do, and same for me and hers.

“We also don’t interact at all if we happen to be on opposite sides of a battle. If I’m at sea and her crew’s in sight of a Navy vessel, I’ll either try to dissuade an attack, citing her as not worth the fight, or intentionally make bad calls so she can get away. It takes some acting chops, and it’ll be a lot harder for you and Ruby since her bounty is so much higher, and you have a history of fighting each other. You’ll both need to come up with a plan in case something like that happens.

Next, be careful of where you meet…keeping your rendezvous point to Pufferfish is probably a good idea since it’s convenient to base but so rarely visited. As far as I know, it isn’t common knowledge that it’s Ruby’s base of operations, so it should be mostly safe. But don’t let yourselves get too comfortable. Just because it’s hard to reach doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Be vigilant while you’re together ‘cause you never know who’s around.

And the last thing, I guess, is just enjoy the time you get. Acknowledge that one day you might have to decide if your loyalties are with the Navy or with her. I support whatever choice you make, but you do need to be prepared to make that call if it ever happens.”

Smoker huffed. “Don’t I know it. I know if anyone  - well, anyone who isn’t you - finds out, it could be a career-ender for me. But it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“Does Tashigi know?” Kuzan asked.

“She does,” Smoker said with a nod. “I told her last night. It felt like such a weight to carry…I needed to tell someone I could trust. And I’m glad I can share this secret with you too. I…I appreciate it, Kuzan. Everything. Thank you. And Hoku as well.”

Kuzan smiled and patted Smoker on the back. “It’s good to see you happy, my friend. I hope you and Ruby stay that way.”

Smoker finished his glass and handed it back to the Admiral. “I hope so too. I gotta get back to my backlog of paperwork. I’ll see you around, Kuzan.”

“‘Night, Smoker,” Kuzan replied with a smile.

Smoker grabbed some food from the mess hall and brought it back to his office. He’d be working through this paperwork for at least a few more hours that night, and probably much of the next day as well. But it had to be done.

Absentmindedly bringing food to his mouth as he read document after document, signing his name where needed, Smoker almost didn’t notice the glow coming from the lamp on his desk. When the light faded, he placed his hand on top of the lamp and held it there for three seconds. Before leaving Pufferfish Island, Smoker and Ruby had agreed that a three second hold would be their subtle way of seeing if the other person was around, and a three second response meant they were good to talk.

Smoker grabbed a pen and some paper so he could transcribe the words, something he’d also advised Ruby to do while she was still learning. A slow, choppy message made its way through the lamp.

.... --- .-- / .-- .- ... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ..-. .. .-. ... - / -.. .- -.-- / -... .- -.-. -.- ..--.. “How was your first day back?” she asked.

Smoker smiled, imagining Ruby curled up on the couch with a Morse code book in hand, trying to carefully tap out the words. He slowly tapped out a response of his own. ..-. .. -. . / -... ..- - / -... ..- ... -.-- .-.-.- / -- .. ... ... / -- . ..--.. “Fine but busy. Miss me?” He gave her a few minutes to transcribe and then translate his words.

- . .-. .-. .. -... .-.. -.-- “Terribly,” came the response.

.-.. . .- .-. -. . -.. / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. / -.-. .-. .- --.. -.-- / - --- -.. .- -.-- .-.-.- “Learned something crazy today,” Smoker tapped.

--- .... ..--.. “Oh?”

-- -.-- / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. / -.- ..- --.. .- -. / - .... . / .- -.. -- .. .-. .- .-.. “My friend Kuzan the Admiral,” he began. Smoker gave her a moment to transcribe before continuing. .. ... / -.. .- - .. -. --. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. / .... --- -.- ..- “Is dating your friend Hoku.”

.-- .... .- - “WHAT” Ruby replied. Morse code wasn’t exactly great at conveying emotion, but he could only imagine the look on her face was something to behold. He chuckled at the thought.

- .... . -.-- / ... . - / ..- ... / ..- .--. .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / .-- .- -. - . -.. / ..- ... / - --- / -- . . - .-.-.- “They set us up,” Smoker said. “They wanted us to meet.”

- .... .- - / ... -. . .- -.- -.-- / -... .. - -.-. .... “That sneaky bitch,” Ruby replied. .. / .-.. --- ...- . / .... . .-. / ... --- / -- ..- -.-. .... “I love her so much.”

Smoker laughed. --.- ..- .. - . / .- / ... .... --- -.-. -.- / .... ..- .... “Quite a shock, huh?”

...- . .-. -.-- “Very,” she responded. -.-- --- ..- / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / --- -.- .- -.-- / .-- .. - .... / - .... .. ... ..--.. / .-- .. - .... / - .... . / .-. .. ... -.- ..--..“You still okay with this? With the risk?”

Smoker smiled. He had never been a big risk taker, not unless he needed to, and even then those risks were calculated. He liked to have a good idea of the possible outcomes before he made his move. It was how he worked, and how he’d gotten this far in his career. He knew this relationship’s success was unlikely. He knew he could lose his job. But there was no doubt in his mind that it was the right thing. “Ruby,” Smoker responded. .. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / .-- --- .-. - .... / - .... . / .-. .. ... -.- .-.-.- “I love you. You are worth the risk.”

Previous - Chapter 3: Decisions

Next: Epilogue (Don't read if you like the happy ending!)

[gingerontheside]

I fulfilled a dream of mine since I was 12 years old: I went to a Love Live! Idol concert! These concerts are directly tied to the anime, Love Live! There’s 1: Love Live! 2: Love Live! Sunshine! 3: Love Live! Nijigasaki High School Idol Club, and 4: Love Live! Superstars!

I had the chance to see the most recent group: Liella! (You have to include the exclamation point it is practically part of their title.) They are from the Love Live! Superstar! Anime.

There are 9 girls in Liella!, though when they started up in 2021 there was only 5 girls (I was in a cosplay group for it.) Having only been around since 2021, meaning they started up after Covid, it was extremely impressive to me that this was there 3rd tour as an idol group.

To start, getting the tickets to this show was EXTRAORDINARILY DIFFICULT. If I didn’t have several friends who are pretty adept at Japanese around me, I simply would not have been able to get these tickets. Filling out the online form was impossible if you allowed Google to translate the page cause it screwed up the software and did not allow you to input things like your name. Oh my god, the name section. They did not like my foreign name. I had to scramble to figure out how to write my name in Hirigana, Katakana, AND Kanji. All of which were rejected several times so I honestly have no idea what name they have for me on file now since it is probably not even close to my actual name. Once I finally got passed just the name and address section, I was prompted to input my credit card. Fine and good, I have a Travel credit card! . . . Rejected. Try a different card. Rejected. FINE. Luckily there was a selection to get a little QR code and pay for the ticket at a conbini (I chose 7/11, since it was right next door to the university.) I should also note the ticket was pretty expensive at ¥10,000 plus a ¥550 fee. So I’m total around $90. Hell, I was willing to pay way more if I needed to.

After what felt like hours (because it WAS hours), I got the alert that I had successfully reserved a ticket. And not going to lie, I teared up and screamed and jumped around like a crazy person. Love Live! Concerts were a pipe dream for me, something I genuinely never thought I would be able to experience in person (mostly because they refuse to go to the US at ALL) especially since these concerts sell out months in advance. The fact that I was able to get a ticket a WEEK before the concert is still mind boggling.

Okay so I’m in. Here we go! Or! So I thought! Turns out you cannot download the ticket normally, you have to get a specific app for it. And guess what? If you don’t have a Japanese Apple ID, then you simply cannot get the app. So I had to create a whole new Apple ID just to view my ticket. Infuriating.

Okay NOW let’s go. The concert was about an hour away from my dorm by train, and the concert started at … 5:30 in the afternoon. Very odd for me, who is used to concerts not starting until closer to 7 or 8 or later, but in Japan concerts start early cause the trains close early. Fair enough. After agonizing all week over what to wear I finally decide on an adorable butterfly dress my best friend and lovely roommate Ash made for me.

Since I did not know Japanese concert etiquette, I showed up at the venue (The Musashino Sports Arena) at around 4, to give myself some time to orient myself with the space. Well as it turns out, everyone has gotten there probably HOURS prior. People were queued up down every staircase and walkway I could see, and all of the merchandise was sold out (much to my dismay). I was not surprised to see most of the fans present were men, though I will admit I was a bit disappointed. But the women who did come showed up and showed Out! All of them were dressed adorably, so I was very thankful of the dress I chose to wear.

Getting into the venue was a whole different beast. Thank goodness for a Taiwanese foreigner who spoke English and found me, because without him I don’t know if I would have made it inside. As it turns out, the ticket I purchased looked wildly different than everyone else’s. Everyone around me had a special page for an ID confirmation . . . I did not. The lovely young man helped usher a worker over and I was shepherded away though the crowds to more workers, who spoke quickly to each other and looked at my phone and eventually just .. let me in. I’m sure it was because my ticket was valid but there’s a piece of me that wonders if it’s because I just looked so scared.

Once inside it was pretty easy to find my seat (in the WAY top in the WAY back, cause I probably got one of the last tickets available). One quick thing I noted: there were signs everywhere saying :

NO PHOTOS

No cheering

No dancing

Pretty much no making a ruckus…at a concert. As a person who goes to concerts to scream sing, this was very disconcerting. So I snuck a few quick photos before the concert began, and once the concert actually started, there were attendants at the top and bottom of EVERY aisle, watching to make sure you didn’t take any photos. It was kinda insane.

There were my super sneaky before show photos. The stage was remarkable: HUGE and two pieces (the main stage and a catwalk to a center circular stage.) and surrounded by massive LED screens that displayed all sorts of stuff, like the idols and their corresponding symbols, or pulsing all sorts of lights and colors, showing clips from the anime … it was quite the spectacle.

Where I was (you know, way top way back), everyone in my section would remain standing for as long as the girls were performing, then as soon as they stepped off stage and an interlude would play (clips from the anime) they would sit back and catch their breath. I guess ? Nobody was cheering. No one was singing. The most noise people made was laughing at certain points and clapping quite politely. It was really unnerving. What they DID do, however, was every audience member (I mean…except me and the girl next to me) had a light blade, which glowed different colors depending on who was singing or whatever idol the holder was a fan of. I managed to get one after the concert;

This was the only thing people in the audience would do, flash their light blades in different colors and kind of copy the dance moves the idols would do, as much as you could with just your arms. It was SO bizarre for me. Since I didn’t have a light blade, I opted for sort of…fistpumping along with everyone’s light blades. Well it wasn’t all a busy, since I had my Apple Watch on that has a flashlight feature. Some of the idols actually seemed to notice this when they were parading around the arena in their special carts: I definitely got waved to and specifically pointed at a few times. It might be because I was the only white person there, but I’ll take it.

I cried a lot. Like , a LOT. The idols came on stage and I could not stop hiccuping and crying for the first 20 minutes. Luckily for me, the concert lasted for 3 HOURS. The girls had 7 costume changes! (7!!!!! What!!!)

I wish I could have taken photos or videos, this show was so visually spectacular. It fulfilled all of my little Idol heart dreams, and I cannot even express how happy I was the entire concert. It definitely set in stone how much I WISH THE US HAD IDOLS CAUSE I WOULD DO ANYTHING TO BE AN IDOL LIKE THEM.

For now, I will find that fulfillment in the Idol Cosplay group I am in (we do dance covers of the Love Live! Idol songs in full cosplay. It’s super fun. I’ll include a picture of us in cosplay at the bottom 💕 I’m in the back in the grey wig with the blue skirt)

[streetlightdiaries]

The Sound

My parents taught me to always clean up before I leave. Make the bed, wipe the counter, straighten the throw rug. Leave it as though you were never there at all. I can’t do that on Long Island. 

My clothes smell of thieves essential oil. The presence of cloves invigorates stagnant parts of my heart; the cinnamon still stings a little. Terica is in a bag in the backseat. A couple of months ago, I thought I would never be able to go back. My whole life has been about second verses and kissing soulmates; I know nothing of permanency, yet here I am driving 75 in a southeast direction. 

I think about cr, who drove all over the Island to be with me. He’s chased me from town to town, patiently fixing my over-priced apartments and listening to my prideful heart. I always used to fall in love with him in my, my, my imagination.

I think about the Sage, who is wise in more ways that her style since she was there for as many late-night histrionics as I was. I always used to be in competition with her in my, my, my imagination. 

I think about the boy whose airplane code comes from some long-lost momentary joke that couldn’t possibly fit him anymore. He is so handsome now that I feel like an idiot, and so damn confounding when he speaks that I can’t help but vocalize my wild eyes. It was actually his imagination that we publicized. My, my, my cancellations.

I went back to Long Island after four years away. “Four plus” cr keeps correcting me. He lets me blame the pandemic for my long absence, but I know I could not have faced him or here until now, even without global restrictions. When I decided to fly home and grow up, it was nearly impossible to tear myself from the Sound and for 4+ years since I’ve heard a reel of conceited thoughts regarding my return: What if I go back and nothing is the same? What if it’s too much the same? What if my friends don’t want to see me? What if I feel regret? What if I am too overcome by sadness and refuse to ever leave again—like that summer we stayed with Bedlight and got dressed out of the truck of my car? But it wasn’t like any of that. 

I was noticeably stronger walking across the slate slabs of Sea Cliff. My body seems to carry a muscle memory of how tired it was the last time we were here—how unhealed it was from anything it had ever been through. I left this place half dead from loneliness, but that pain isn’t with me anymore and I looked, but didn’t find it anywhere between the Cove and Sunrise either. So I called the Airplane Codes.  

Enough about me now, you gotta talk about the people, baby—

Cut to a group of us standing in a close circle, reading my star chart in a dive bar because we’d die if we showed any interest in the band. I forgot what it’s like to have people around me who would have already seen Tom’s letter to Skiba and would most definitely have an opinion on it. The Sage’s gift has grown into a confident ability to read any of us at a moment’s notice, so she entertains the group with visions of whom we should end up loving forever, as if it will be someone who hasn’t already been mentioned tonight. Because of these three things I can be sure will never change: Someone will bring up “Heartbeat,” someone will bring up the Singer, and many will say, “Remember that time that This Condition . . .”

But we bring out-of-network friends now too, who offer their indispensable opinions on our chronic bullshit: 

“I mean, anyone that I haven’t dated, she has,” I say. 

“New rule!” she exclaims into the cold night air, “You guys have to date other people! And no more musicians.” 

We just laugh and buy her another round. 

We take turns making each other blush with stories that have not only been remembered, but immortalized into rhetoric; cr knows every one of my mistakes and brings them up by name. He retells our stories in the funniest fucking ways though, like the time I brought his cab home from the city, the time I drove to Connecticut for that Taylor guitar, and the times we defended each other against the bfg. He remembers all those times I cut my hair with a razor blade and that one drive home on the Southern State when even 11:11 couldn’t save him. It’s pretty rough having fifteen-year old friendships; these are people who have seen me at my worst and at my best, neither of which I’m at now. However, it also seems that they won’t ever let me float away. I won’t ever be able to pretend that all of this was so long ago, much less that it never happened at all.

Some things are sacred, like Matty Healy’s hair and Nicky C when a Green Day song comes on. So sweet it won’t offend anybody. The clock drones on way past midnight, and we say we’re waiting for our other token bassist but really, we just don’t want to leave each other. The 7 of us.

If they are love, then healing is listening to “Home” by This Condition while driving down Ocean Parkway. I sat alone on the beach the morning after, staring out at the Atlantic. Readers will most likely find this re-telling to be false or in the least, highly exaggerated and yet, I don’t see a way things could have been less dramatic. To the left of me was a vision of Jake and Ryan and Radio lying on a beach towel. The sun glistened off of their bodies in a way that made no one jealous but each other. We’re just 20 years old. 

Well I know when you’re around, ‘cause I know the sound, I know the sound of your heart.

I think about the Pilot and his jaded words. The only difference between us and him is that we’ve all left, and he never did. Maybe the cliché is so for a reason and it’s true that you can’t truly appreciate something until it’s gone. Maybe you can’t claim a home until you drive away from it. 

Nearly all of my adventures in writing have been love letters disguised as diatribes to this place and them. Perhaps I am still naïve. Perhaps they are too willing to play along. But I’m quite pleased to report that the magic is alive and well in Long Island, New York. 

Love, T.

“Part of the Band” and “The Sound” by The 1975 

[autobot2001]

Whumpril Snippet 4

@whumpril  

Day 4; ache, massage Day 9; pinned down, bruised, "who did this to you?" Day 24; false smile, holding back tears, "I said I'm fine." Day 16; guilt, shock Day 30; holding hands alt 1; ice pack alt 11; "don't push me away."

Fandom: Transformers   Pairing: Sunstreaker X Lily Jones (OC)  Unedited for now.  ( Scenes that'll be in A Lily in Winter. Excuse the time skips)

Lily walks down the hall of the N.E.S.T. base towards the terror twins' room. She's used to soldiers — whether they returned to N.E.S.T. two years ago or joined two months ago — questioning why Sunstreaker is the mech she loves, even though she's only been able to stay at the base during school vacations. She's now allowed to stay during the summer with her friend, Veronica, who ended up finding out everything. Lily is expecting to deal with soldiers questioning her frequently. "Hey, kid," a soldier says. "Get lost." "How rude!" The soldier grabs Lily and throws her on the floor. They have Lily pinned down as they use her as a punching bag. "That psychopath is an idiot dating a weakling. Not even a pretty weakling."

Lily is in pain by the time the soldier walks away. Don't show pain. Lily tells herself as she gets up. It's good that it's been cool enough to wear a long-sleeved shirt and pants.

Lily enters the code to get into the twins' room. Sunstreaker is worried about the way Lily walks into the room. "Lily? Are you ok?" Sunstreaker asks. "I'm fine," Lily tells him behind a fake smile. "I can smell you're in pain." "I said I'm fine." "Don't push me away." Sunstreaker touches Lily's arm, worried about the reaction he's getting. Moving quickly to remove Lily's clothes and leaving her only in her underwear, bra, and socks. Sunstreaker couldn't believe all the red spots on her body. "Who did this to you?" He asks as he takes pictures to send to Ratchet. Uncertain if he needs to make Lily go to the medbay.

Ratchet couldn't believe the pictures Sunstreaker sent him. Concerned that Lily won't tell Sunstreaker what happened. "I know we shouldn't assume, but what else could this be besides a soldier attacking her?" Jasmine argues. "I'm going to talk to Red Alert," Ratchet tells the other two medics, as he gives Sunstreaker instructions.

"... she's not saying anything," Sunstreaker tells Drift as he takes the I've packs from the mech. Sunstreaker knew Drift would tell him not to make Lily talk before leaving. He doesn't know if Drift was sent the pictures, nor does he care. He only took pictures of Lily's arms, legs, and abdomen. "I have to do this to help the bruises heal," Sunstreaker explains as Lily tries to get the ice packs off her, "fifteen minutes." He lies next to Lily, feeling guilty she was attacked.

The Autobots watching the security footage are shocked at what they're watching. "And I thought we dealt with this issue," Optimus sighs. He's alone in Red Alert's room while Red, Prowl, and Lennox find the soldier. The four know this isn't enough to discharge the soldier from N.E.S.T., but the soldier must be dealt with.

With the ice treatment finished, Lily dressed, and taking a nap, Sunstreaker leaves the room to get Lily her favorite cookie from Panera Bread. Hoping that'll make her feel better. Walking down the hall, he spots Lily's friend, Veronica, talking to Ratchet. "...I see why it seemed she disappeared," the femme says, "because she's always hurt and unable to attend school. Glad she wasn't allowed to come back here, and why now?" Scrap, Lily's parents, and her brother will be informed. Sunstreaker worries as memories of the challenges he and Lily dealt with in their relationship, like most being against it. The time he struggled with anxiety.

(Time skip for now)

Sunstreaker takes Lily's hands before she can get a cookie from the bag. "I'm sorry, I hate how they see you're a target," he says as tears roll down his face. "We knew this would happen. I knew, considering how I was told to stay away from you the first day my brother brought me here." "It's still not right. I hope Lennox and Optimus can do something to prevent this from happening again." Sunstreaker remembers Luke being ok with teaching Lily self-defense, but Sunstreaker thinks Luke didn't have a chance to talk to his parents. Considering Lily has only been visiting during the weekends and week-long school vacations, Sunstreaker can see how Luke still needs to bring up teaching Lily self-defense.

(A few days later)

Sunstreaker worries about how much pain Lily is in. Even after Ratchet explaining part of the pain is how there are bruises all over Lily's body. Drift: this could help Lily. Sunstreaker sees Drift sent an article about how a relaxation massage can help promote healing and another talking about how massaging the bruised area will worsen things. Drift: she'll at least feel relaxed, and this might temporarily help the pain. Maybe it'll get her to sleep. Sunstreaker wonders.

Lily isn't sure if a massage will help her, but she lies on her stomach anyway after Sunstreaker moves the blankets on her bed so she's getting in bed. Sunstreaker worries he'll screw up and add to Lily's pain as he does his best to copy the video he's watched several times. He could close his eyes and watch the video as the Autobots' holoforms allow them to do this, but even while worried about adding to Lily's pain, he wants to try to do this without rewatching the video. Ten minutes pass, and Lily is asleep. Sunstreaker covers her with the blankets and goes to bed.  

[purplesurveys]

1654

What is one change you need to make in your life this month? A month? That’s super short-term...erm, maybe trying to figure out a new position when I sleep? I’ve been waking up with very sore shoulders and numb arms lately. What was one good thing about today? My mom finally started using what was my Christmas gift to her – a portable, foldable bathtub hahaha. She always said she’d set it up once the climate gets warmer, and now that summer’s started she stuck to her word and used it for the first time today.

What’s been tugging on your heart lately? The whole sticky situation of mine and my friends’ fate regarding Yoongi’s concert. It’s too complicated to explain in full, but basically a major part of it is that Angela was lucky enough – and was the only one in our group of 4 – to secure 1 ticket (Reena didn’t get one from the ticketing website but quickly got to snatch one from a seller, so she’s covered), and she said she’s willing to turn it over to me while she and Hans can just go around Bangkok on the day of the concert. It’s a very conflicting situation on my end because as much as she says that she picked me and genuinely wants me to go, she is also my best friend in the world and I don’t want to enjoy the show knowing that I got in with a ticket she got, in a show she should be enjoying.

I’m super 50-50 about it right now because I’m heavily leaning towards just selling the ticket so neither of us go, but anyway that’s the reason why we’re still trying to chase extra tickets from people selling theirs – we want to be complete, and we want all of us 4 to get to watch the show. We’re starting to get offers from people willing to sell their extras, so we’ll just have to see where this takes us.

Are you comfortable with who you are? Have you accepted who you are? I’m at least more at peace with myself than I was, say, three years ago. I’d say that’s as good as it would get. There’ll always be things to work on and I don’t think I’ll ever get to say I ‘accept’ myself fully.

All the money you ever need or someone to spend the rest of your life with? Money; I don’t need a lifelong partner. Decided on that a long time ago.

What is the last thing you did that made you feel guilty? THE YOONGI THING UGH. I feel both guilty and bad about it. Of fucking course I want to see Yoongi, but I don’t want it to come from a place where my friend would have to give up her ticket for me. Worst case scenario none of us go and of course, honestly speaking, that would be a huge bummer.

Would you have sex with the last person you texted? Can’t remember the last person I texted but probably not.

What was the last thing you received in the mail? Just bills for electricity and water.

Who did you last creep on? Like...stalk? Just influencer profiles I had to review to see if they’d be a good fit for one of the campaigns I’m working on.

What country would you most like to visit in the future? I’d love just to go back to Korea. One day in Jeju is too short a time to be there.

At your workplace, are you required to wear a uniform? Nah, just a dress code.

Who is the last person that gave you butterflies? I had this minor crush on a girl I had to work with for an ad/commercial shoot. She was like production manager or something like that and anyway she fit what would typically be my type...but then that all ended when our most recent shoot ended up a disaster and we had to go like...9 hours overtime. It was a very stressful situation at work and I’d rather not get into detail but anyway that marked the end of any butterflies I had for her lmao.

Do you consider weed, marijuana, pot, etc. a drug? Well, yeah.

Are you planning on kissing anyone tomorrow evening? Nope. Do you require a lot of private time? Um, not really. I like being around people, and having weekends to myself usually suffices as me-time already.

Have you ever done something humiliating while drunk? Yep.

Have you ever told a guy you were a lesbian to get him to leave you alone? Kind of? What I did before was stick closer to my partner at the time and wait for them to get the hint.

If you have a favorite television show, who’s your favorite character? Gus Fring.

-- a lil two-in-one again for this round --

Hi, Your name is? Robyn.

What was the last thing you ate? Aligue pasta.

Do you hold the singstar microphone with your right or left hand? The...what?

What’s the best part about flying? The views at the start and end. The flights themselves can get so boring, but I still gun for the window seat as much as possible as views of the city always get me in the feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeels.

Who did you last have a deep and meaningful conversation with? Andi. I talked to them about my struggles with enjoying wrestling these days, and how I was starting to come to terms with the fact that I can’t actually digest technical wrestling and mostly watch shows for their entertainment/storyline value. Very WWE way of doing things – which is why I’ve always struggled to get into other promotions. It prompted Andi to open up and they got into this whole spiel of what technical wrestling is really all about, and taught me some mental notes to take note of the next time I watch wrestling so I can get into the in-ring chemistry more. They gave me some sample matches to watch too, just so I can understand better what they meant with their tips. Really loved that conversation. 

Any vacations planned? Yeah I’ve now got two in June. Bangkok with friends, and then Kuala Lumpur with family that same week. The latter has me going CRAZY because my mom booked it to be the same week I’m flying back to Manila from Bangkok :((((( So basically, I arrive in Manila from Bangkok on a Tuesday morning; then Friday evening I’ll be on a plane again en route to KL. It’ll be such a hectic couple of weeks for me lol.

Who were you last in a car with? Mom and siblings.

Do you play any sports? Table tennis.

Which friend have you known the longest? Angela and I have been friends for 18 years.

Do you drink the recommended 6-8 glasses of water per day? No. I drink a lot of water in a day, but not up to 8 glasses.

How many times have you been to Wet'n'Wild? What’s that?

Did you ever watch Sailor Moon? No, not into anime.

Chocolate or Vanilla ice cream? Honestly neither since I find chocolate to be too strong a flavor and vanilla too bland; but if I didn’t have a choice I might just go with chocolate.

Do you have a facebook? Yes.

Favourite shop? Ncat, hahahahaha.

What was the last thing you brought on ebay? I’ve never bought anything from eBay.

Did you know that Deli Lama is actually a person and not a Llama? Deli Lama??????????

Do you think Merryl Streep can actually sing in Mamma Mia? Idk I’ve never seen that movie and am not interested.

What gym do you have a membership to? None.

What do you want for Christmas? Damn, I have to pick this early? Hahaha at this point, if anyone asked me I’d probably just ask for Yoongi tickets.

Do you think hiptops should be called “shit tops”? I have no idea what this question is talking about.

If you had to get glasses would you wear contacts? I can’t stand anything being put near or in my eyes, so no. I’ll always prefer glasses.

Are Mac’s really better than PC’s? I’m sure both have their strengths but having experienced both, I prefer Macs. My old HP laptop lagged all the time and was a hub for viruses and it was all generally just very stressful for me lol.

Favourite drink? Just cold water.

Have you ever been to the snow? No, I’ve never seen snow.

New Year’s Plans? No clue, it’s too early to plan for that.

Would you agree that Sex and The City is the best show ever? I’ve never seen it but I’m pretty confident there are tons of better shows.

Do you call your friends with red hair “ranga’s”? No?

Should Paris Hilton consider running for president? No.

If you were to go to prison for one thing, what would it be? Idk man. Maybe disrespecting police because ACAB and because I realistically would have no problem doing that when push comes to shove, and especially if I feel disrespected first.

[recklessmark]

HELLOOO IT'S ME 🐽

I just read I Can Help OMG HOW DO YOU WRITE SO WELL EVERY ONE OF YOUR FICS DRIVES ME CRAZY AJSOSJDOSKZ 😭😭😭🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐✨

I am absolutely looking forward to the pt 2 you were planning to write, both to this and Every Angel Sinned (at your own pace!)

If you need help with ideas or proofreading I can dm you! I'd love to be of some use :)

Other than that, how are you doing these days? Have you had a break from uni? ♥️

omg i completely forgot about every angel sinned 😭 thanks for reminding me.

and yes i’ve been having my summer break for 3 months i think and been working my ass off. i used to only work 4 days a week but now i have to work everyday because i have this private 1-1 corporate english class with a japanese student. it’s crazy that she studies for 7 hours/day and 5 days/week. i only have to do 1hr with her as she studies with 2 other teachers (3hr each). i didn’t want to take that class at first since it takes me 30m to drive to work and it’s exhausting if i do it everyday.

but she’s really nice and i totally enjoy teaching her haha. and i’m glad i take the class because if it was someone else, i’m sure they don’t know what they’re supposed to do. most of my colleagues are really stupid 😔 (and i’m not sorry to say it) so i doubt if they are able to handle the class. yesterday we only studied for 40m i think and we talked for another 1hr and i only get paid for 1hr but it was fun talking to her.

i didn’t like my job but my old boss had left (she was rude and the worst person ever) and i’m happy going to work now. i even violate the dress code (since we’re required to dress in these extremely modest clothes but now i wear t-shirts and cargo pants and shits to work, not croptops and shorts and skirts tho haha) and am never on time anymore. i still hate my company though so yeah i don’t care that much. if they fire me then i’ll gladly go. i think my most of colleagues hate me for that but they couldn’t do anything since my new manager doesn’t care lol.

i’m going back to uni in september, so yeah working and studying at the same time but i still manage to get scholarships with straight As and A+ every semester (mark pls praise me for it 😇)

and alright if i ever need some help, i’d find you bestie 🥰🥰

[atlas-of-the-universe]

Causing a Scene

Word Count: 20k, so it’ll take around an hour to read in full. 

Warnings: MA-rating. Mentions of sex (nothing major until the end), minor creepy dude pinching a butt but you show him, so don’t worry LOL 

Pure unadulterated romantic Loki falling for a mortal. Some protective Loki, lots of teasing.

Authors Note: I genuinely need to make an apology for how long it’s been taking me to chug out some things. I’ve promised you guys over and over again that I would get things out on a certain time, but life and circumstance has made it so that’s becoming quite difficult. I’ll discuss that in an upcoming post. I really hope you guys don’t mind how long it took. It’s a chunk of words. But I worked kinda hard on this one and made sure it was perfect before releasing, unlike my last fic LOL. I also need to mention @writingfics-passingtime​ and @just-another-blog-of-fluff​ for not only encouraging me through this, but giving me ideas and pointers as of how to go about it. They are genuinely not only some of the best authors here, but amazing people in general. Please go check out their work, they have MASTERPIECES. But without further ado, a fic that took me literally 4 months to write. 

<3

   The mirror in front of you seemed to mimick your movements instead of portraying them, as its job entailed. Truthfully told, it didn't look like you. Although you had worn dresses before in your life, this felt wildly different than those times. The past consisted of holiday treats and cheap decorations, a newer, plastic-ey feeling dress purchased from the dusty corners of the discount section. That, or an at-home birthday party that required you to buy an economical cocktail dress that felt way too tight on your shoulders. But this...this was a new feeling. 

It had been almost a year since you joined the Avengers, and your physical tone revealed the difference of an entire year's worth of training. Your arms had become thinner and more muscular, and the same could be said about your legs, you noticed as you turned your hips to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress you wore swayed along with your movements, the red sparkles of the fabric already coating your room in a light dusting of shimmers. The chiffon draped to the floor elegantly, the wine color a stark difference against the light-colored carpet of your room. The material separated into two pieces on the skirt's right half, the slit of fabric combining again mid-thigh. Hugging perfectly to your waist, the dress's bodice was dotted in tiny rhinestones of the same merlot hue. Today, you were taller than you usually were as well, your height being exaggerated about four inches by the heels you wore that were just a shade lighter than your skin. It was the first time you had seen yourself in something so elegant in a long time. Long enough that it was difficult to recognize yourself in the mirror. 

Tony was bright enough to not have the fundraiser at the Avengers compound. Having unknown faces in unfamiliar places was too precarious. Everyone who knew about the compound needed to be known and kept track of; otherwise, the team's lives would be put in jeopardy. He decided to hold it at a shockingly large banquet hall in New York City that had a stringent dress code. You could only imagine the cost. Luckily the price didn't bother him enough to hesitate on purchasing the team their formal attire for the evening. The fact that he had personally picked this dress out for you skeeved you out just a tad, but you had to admit, he had done an exceptional job. A billionaire knows what billionaires would like, you supposed. What better way of getting other billionaires to donate to charity than having America's heroes look their sharpest? 

"Well, well, well," Natasha crooned from the doorway, practically appearing out of thin air with a playful smile on her face. She had a bandage dress close to the color of yours but brighter, hugging her figure down to just below her knees. Tight sleeves extended from the deep v-neck, coating her arms in rich velvet. Her hair was expertly curled into thick and wide waves, auburn hair complimenting the color of her outfit. She looked stunning. "Who are you, and what have you done with (Y/N)?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, albeit the fact that you agreed with her. You fiddled with your dress's sleeve that ended just at the edge of your wrist. Although you knew how beautiful you looked, some part of you didn't feel like yourself in the dress. The way you were just allowed to be a part of such a prestigious group of individuals felt the slightest bit fraudulent. You were the newest. "I know," you said, glancing up at her. "I don't even look like myself."

Natasha knew you better than you thought she did. She stepped into the room, the sound of her own heels being muffled by the carpet. She put her hands on your shoulders gently, and you followed instinctually to face her. She took your wrist, folding back the thin sleeve a little, and repeated her actions on the other hand as well. "It's a part of the job," Natasha stated, steeling her face into the cold agent she was just for a second before softening her features again. "You're still saving lives. The funds from tonight are going to help the Sokovian victims for a long time." She smoothed her hands along the outside of your arms, checking you over before stepping back again. 

"But a dance?" you complained. "I'm an Avenger. I can't dance."

"It comes easier than you think. There's always some guy with an ego big enough to dance with a pretty girl."

"Oh? Does Bruce even have an ego?"

"Watch it," Natasha warned, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "He's a scientist. They all do." She took a step back to admire how well you cleaned up, nodded, and walked back to the door frame. Her heels clicked against the metal of the bunker floors, and she turned around to face you. "The limo leaves in fifteen. You should finish up whatever you're doing." 

"Wait," you called as she turned her head to face you. "I guess Wanda's not coming tonight, then?"

"No," Natasha said solemnly. "This would have been too much for her." 

As the sight of Natasha grew dim down the corridor, you found yourself alone with your imagination once again. You had been formally invited to several different fundraisers before, but nothing entirely of this caliber. Thinking about it, it seemed you were the only one who had not attended a fancy party among the team. Natasha's words rang out in your head; it's a part of the job. Even the non-earthlings would be attending, and they've had their fair share of fancy parties, considering they were from royalty. Speaking of the brothers, you made a mental note to tell Natasha about Thor's plan to ask her to dance so she wasn't caught off guard. Even though she was the most confident one on the team (aside from Tony), she still was just as human as the rest of us. The image of it made you chuckle. Thor dancing with Natasha, what a sight that would be. But who would you dance with? The barren truth was that you had little idea what you were doing. 

You peaked in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair and wobbling on your heels to the door. The hard surface was easier to walk on, but still, it took you a second to catch your footing. It was nearing midday, so the sun was high, the compound windows fluttering with the speckled light of the leaves falling to the Earth. Fall in New York seemed to last longer than any other season, especially upstate. As you walked, you laced in a trial of a confident strut, swinging your hips with a little more intent than usual. It felt unnatural, so you stopped and continued down the halls to where the limousine was waiting for you. 

The clicking of your heels called to your attention as you stepped into the compound lobby through large double doors. The team was grouped in the center of the room, a stark (pun intended) difference from the maintenance crew and office outfits scattered amongst the room. The team was standing in a messy circle. However, most of them were carried off in their own conversations, their eyes occasionally darting up to scan their surroundings as a habit from years of training. Natasha was amongst them, catching your eye as you stepped through the doors. Her arms were crossed, the color of her dress complimenting the fiery shade of lipstick she had applied in the short time from when you had seen her.  You cleared your throat and smoothed out the front of your own, walking up to the cluster of agents. The closer you got, the harder your heart pounded. Although you weren't nervous around the team, you found yourself feeling a little out of place. The anxiety of how people would perceive you rushed around in your head, and suddenly, the dress felt all too tight. 

As Natasha's gaze caught your own, Bruce turned his head to follow her stare. His features softened upon seeing you, and he smiled. "(Y/N)," he said as you approached. "You look great."

You breathed a hollow laugh and dipped your head, your gait slowing a bit. "Thanks," you said with a small smile. Even though you had integrated yourself into the group, the feeling of isolation settled back into your bones as Bruce and Natasha resumed their conversation. You weren't offended, of course, but you knew that these types of things came effortlessly to them, and if they didn't, they didn't show it. The air of confidence radiating around every one of them was impressive, if not intimidating. Thor, Tony, Steve, and Natasha all had their natural certainty about them but were joined by the rest of the team in their outfit-encouraged assurance. You had to admit, you could understand why. The crew cleaned up remarkably well, and their actions mimicked the fancy quality of their clothes. Even Peter looked more confident than he usually did. Pepper, who was dressed in a brilliant blue sheath dress, adjusted the knot of his tie closer to his neck as Tony patted him on the back a little too hard and said something to him, but the insistent chatter in the broad space made it difficult to hear.  There was a chittering of laughter off to the side; Thor emphasized a particularly boisterous point with his arms as he told Clint, Steve, and Bucky a joke. But still, there was one person that, amidst the crowd, you still couldn't find.

"Do you guys know where Loki is?" You blurted out, accidentally interrupting Bruce in his relatively soft-spoken conversation. 

"Oh, um," Bruce turned his attention to you and lifted his head to scout the room. "He definitely came in before. He was one of the first people here." 

"Watch your six," Natasha said, nodding her head behind you. When you turned to look behind you, you saw Loki standing off to the left side of the room, leaning against the metal walls with his feet crossed and his hands in his pockets. His eyes were trained onto you, sending a chill down your spine. Well, maybe for reasons more than that. 

You hadn't ever seen Loki in anything other than his Asgardian armor and the business-casual clothing he wore. Loki had always stridden with an atmosphere of cockiness, his head held high and the same, characteristically impish grin set upon his lips. He hadn't strayed from it today, but the suit he wore put a little flutter in your chest. The suit and suede dress shoes together highlighted his lean frame and accentuated his height. Supposing you didn't know who he was, you could have incorrectly labeled him as one of the unusually handsome CEOs wandering the compound, waiting patiently for their meeting to start. The hair above his ears had been tied back into a flat-looking ponytail, the rest falling in thick whisps to his shoulders. With a signature flash of green embezzling his tie, he stood up straighter as you turned to approach him. 

The banquets and elegant celebrations that Loki and his brother had attended were practically no comparison to any of the parties Stark hosted. He, not unlike yourself, had never participated in the gaudier end of the billionaire's events. Even back in Asgard, Loki was never really one for parties unless they were his own, and even those festivities felt somewhat burdensome. Since his destruction of New York, it had been challenging to find the time and place for Loki to join, not that he even wanted to. There was always the risk of being recognized by the general public. Still, Stark had assured him that this was a ball for a select number of individuals and that the danger of being exposed was significantly reduced. Did it actually assure him? Of course not. Was there a reason he was going? Only one. 

Conjuring up an outfit after completely ignoring the one that Stark had paid for, Loki decided he would get to the lobby earlier than the others. It was a way to get away from the hustling business of the compound halls, the lobby significantly less busy during this time of day. It would only be a matter of time before the crowd and the rest of the Avengers had shown, but it was nice to have some peace and quiet. As a janitor eyed him, wheeling his ridiculously squeaky cart from hall to hall, Loki found a bench to sit down on and crossed his legs, his mind falling into a semi-aware space. You had mentioned the other day that you hadn't attended any events such as this one. While that was not shocking, he found himself curious about what you have done. Had you ever danced with someone before? Were you the type of person to jump at the call of the buffet, or would you wait until the line had died down? The thought of you dancing seemed to cloud his mind entirely. More specifically, the thought of you dancing with him. The idea that you would dance with someone else burned in his stomach, and his upper lip curled a bit as he swallowed his irritation. He found himself disgruntled at the fact that his chest would tighten as the image of you looking up at him during a dance swelled his mind. 

As the Avengers began shuffling into the room in pairs, Loki nodded to some of them and stood to have a brief conversation with his brother before he stepped away to speak with Steve. The sight of Earth's warriors dressed in outfits far above their complexity of work was a bit impressive, but as Agent Romanoff stepped into the room, he felt a little disheartened, having fully expected you to come in after her. A few tense moments of bitter disappointment followed, but as the double doors to the main room opened again, his dejection washed away as quickly as it had grown. 

With your head held high, your hair falling delicately to your shoulders, he realized for a moment that he had never seen you with your hair down. Nor had he ever seen you dressed up. The sophisticated dress gave you a dangerous look as if you played the part of a spy even in your downtime. The dress fluttered as it caught the draft of your pace, highlighting just how well the bodice conformed to you. You walked with intent, clutching a little handbag close to your abdomen as you kept your eyes to the ground on your way to greet Natasha. You weren't always this timorous. In fact, in the time he had known you, he grew to understand how outspoken you were, a trait that Loki was appreciative of. Even though he was especially good at reading disturbances, it was always better when people were outright with it. Less time wasted, he would say to himself. 

Loki had decided that he would play a subconscious game with you, his eyes following your movements. He watched you tuck your hair behind your ear and determined that he wouldn't be the one to move. He would let you find him, let you make the first move. This was a simple game, of course. A game you didn't know you were playing. A game that subtly lets Loki read you a bit better. Loki ultimately won as Natasha locked eyes with him, her lips curling into a sly smile. She nodded in his direction, and you subsequently turned around, replacing his attention back with yours. For a second, you continued your ongoing tête-à-tête, but he found himself pleased that your eyes never left his. He made no move as he leaned against the wall and no inclination that he intended to do so. You took the bait and said a final word to Natasha, walking the twenty feet that separated you.  

The closer you got to Loki, the more he seemed to sparkle. Whether or whether not it was an illusion put on by clever tricks of magic slipped across your mind but did not stop your breath from catching in your throat. You swallowed a bit and slowed your pace. 

"I'm surprised to see you here," you said.

"Trust me, darling, not more surprised than I am," Loki stood up straight and let his gaze cast over the group of Avengers. "I've never been one for these things." 

"Neither have I," your voice lowered and followed his eyes. "Are you worried about people or just...party stuff?" 

He scoffed, "If I were perturbed about the opinion of others, I wouldn't be standing in front of you."

"Fair."

The slam of car doors outside caught both of your attention, and Tony began to talk a bit louder, shuffling his way to the front of the group to start to lead them outside. You looked at each other before slowly turning around, following the scuffle from a distance. Loki's finger's laced together in front of him, and you clutched your handbag close to you. 

"And what of you?" Loki asked. 

"Huh?" 

"The party. Are you nervous about the people or...something else?"

You smiled a bit, dipping your chin down to your chest. "It's a fundraising ball. I haven't even been to one of the smaller fundraisers that Tony's had."

Loki pursed his lips, catching sight of Tony as he stepped into a long limousine. The wide-open door of the car lit faintly with the dull luster of LED lights inside the cabin. Sam stepped inside and walked with a hunched back to the right, disappearing out of view. Loki opened his mouth but hesitated, debating if relating to you was the right thing to do. "If it consoles you at all," he justified, more to himself than you. "Neither have I."

You looked up at him, catching the way his jaw tightened. He could feel your eyes on him, but his ego kept him from down. The crowd slowly shrank smaller and smaller as you stepped outside, eventually being ushered into the limousine as well. The

raw air nipped at your ankles for a fraction of a second before you stepped into the car. The inside of the limo was decorated in sharp-looking, matte black upholstery. The dim red light of the LED strips overhead cast a faint glow over the group's heads, illuminating both your and Natasha's dresses. In front of the seats that bordered half of the car, an expensive-looking bar twinkled with freshly clean glassware and several bottles of champagne coated in gold foil, a white 'Louis Roederer' spelled out on the label.  Loki followed close behind you as you squatted to sit closest to Thor, Loki grunting uncomfortably as he squat-walked to your right. The leather cushions were softer than you would have expected, and you sank into the seats, both of the brother's arms positioned above yours in a feeble attempt to be comfortable. Loki chuckled at your squished look and reached over to wiggle a finger into your side. You jumped, blushed, and swatted at Loki, all in that order. 

"Sorry, love," he chuckled. "You make it too easy."

"Shut up." 

Tony spoke to the driver about something, muffled by the chatter of the others. When he was done, the window to the driver slid shut, and the car shuddered to a start. The shift in the car's momentum pulling off put Thor's weight against you and your weight onto Loki. For a second, you caught a whiff of a warm, woodsy scent as your shoulder pressed into his side. Was Loki wearing cologne?

"Jesus, Stark, you couldn't have made these seats any bigger?" Bucky groaned from in between Steve and Sam. Sam frowned and shoved his arm above Bucky's, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

"I feel like a sardine," Sam said, frustratedly nodding.

"Well, you smell like one too," Bucky quipped. 

"Really, man? Is that what we're doing? Why can't--" 

"You shouldn't have brought up that--" 

"Alright, boys," Natasha scolded. "Enough." 

Their argument died down, replaced by dejected scowls and tiny shoves. It reminded you of brothers, and part of you wondered what they would look like as brothers. It wasn't difficult to imagine Bucky as an older brother figure, especially with his and Steve's past. However, Bucky had the identical 'protective older sibling' energy that Sam seemed to harbor, the more you got to know them both. Those energies pitted against each other produced snarky attitudes and semi-aggressive taunting, a clear example being what you had just witnessed. 

"Ah, it's not so bad!" Thor exclaimed, his shoulder squishing both you and Peter into the seat. Now that you looked at it, it only looked like Tony, Pepper, Natasha, and Bruce were sitting comfortably, each having the correct amount of space to breathe. 

"Easy for you to say," you jested, your voice straining as you struggled to hitch yourself above Thor's arm. "You're the biggest one in here." 

"Is that (Y/N)?" Peter's voice called from the other side of your human obstacle. As Thor chuckled, Peter did his best to lean his head forward, looking for you. "I didn't even know you were in here!" 

"No, well," you grunted. "I guess you wouldn't."

You could hear the light tinkling of the glassware being toyed with. Out of your sight, Tony poured champagne in Pepper's glass then passed the bottle to Natasha. Tony bared his teeth and frowned in a guilty expression, doing his best to ignore the complaints from around the vehicle. 

You laughed humorlessly and pushed against Thor's arm. "This is ridiculous." 

Although Loki was not particularly bothered by your complaining, he found himself becoming a bit restless, cramped in a small space with a group of his former enemies. "If you're going to fuss so much, perhaps my brother would assist me in boosting your mood," he played. Loki watched with a grin as your face morphed from annoyed to sheepish in a fraction of a second. As if you couldn't be forced more into the seat, you sank a little. 

"What, do you have any road-trip games we can play, Mr. Loki?" Peter asked before Thor could speak. 

"Yes, dear boy, it's called the quiet game. I believe you can guess the rules," Loki quipped, resulting in Peter letting out an awkward, breathy laugh. 

Peter cast a look that could only be described as 'what the hell is his problem' at Tony for a quick second before getting distracted by a town sign that the car passed on the road. He was particularly intrigued by the little town called 'Hope,' saying it sounded like something from a comic book. Unfaithful to your predicament, the Town of Hope only seemed to mock your circumstance. 

Loki looked down at you, lodged between his bicep and his brother's side. The tiny amount of space made it near impossible for both your and Thor's bodies to fit adequately. Hence, Thor's arm hung over half of your body, effectively smothering you. Loki watched how you occasionally renewed your spouts of energy, pushing against his brother's arm, trying to position yourself in the seat that left you the slightest amount of breathing room. The hand closest to Loki's body was relatively free of constraint, although his frame was still packed tightly against you. His brother's lack of spatial awareness was significantly less refined than others and infuriating to his victims, whether it was at Loki's expense or not. You were quickly very conscious of the limited amount of room you had to yourself and even more so of the fact that there was a metaphysical timer ticking down until you reached your destination. Your stomach dropped a bit as you realized you were driving into New York City. That had to at least be a four-hour drive, more if you hit traffic. 

"Tony," you said in a strangled voice. "How long is the drive, anyway?" 

Tony frowned and looked up, counting numbers in his head. "Give or take three and a half hours. Don't be the first person that has to pee on a trip. No one likes that person." 

"What? Since when?" Bruce asked Tony, a hint of offense lacing his voice. 

"Since I said so. Now! Just a heads up: the hotel is right across the street from the venue, so whenever the fun turns into an old lady's tea party, you can skedaddle if you want. Just don't leave until eight. I promised a few donors that we'd be there until eight." The finality in Tony's voice left no room for discussion. Truthfully, a party that lasted from four in the afternoon to eight wasn't the worst thing you've ever heard, although a bit long when you thought about the grand scope of four hours. How much can happen in four hours? 

Your thoughts were cut off guard by Loki's fingers squeezing the muscle on your knee. You jumped and stomped the foot of your assaulted leg, making Loki chuckle. 

"I was getting at something before I was interrupted," He said. "No matter. I was simply going to ask my brother if he would like to assist me in making this car ride a little more bearable." Loki's eyes left yours for a brief moment to catch a side-eyed glance from his brother. It was challenging to see Thor's face from where you sat, but you saw a glimmer of a smile tug at the corner of his lip before he turned his head away. 

"Loki, back off," you said, but before you had a chance to readjust your position for the thirteenth time, the weight of Thor's arm against your chest doubled. You debated biting Thor's arm for a moment to teach him a lesson about personal space but decided it wouldn't be the best course of action. "Thor, buddy, come on," you smacked his forearm a few times, elbowing Loki a bit in the process. You wondered if the other Avengers were watching your predicament, and simply the thought of the other's eyes on you made you blush. 

Though the weight had yet to decrease, Thor's head turned away from you, and you heard his voice catch a conversation separate from your situation. Ignoring the sensation of panic rooting itself in your chest, you pushed against Thor's elbow and hoped for some consequence. Instead, you felt his muscles tighten as he pressed against your hands. Something clicked. He was doing this on purpose. 

Loki had been all but silently watched you the entire time during your struggle. Your hair flipped a bit to the side, some whisps clinging to the color on your lips. Your posture had stayed as exceptionally straight, and poise as you usually held it, something impressive for his brother being practically on top of you. Even so, both of your arms were pinned above Thor's bicep, leaving you precariously exposed. Loki bit the corner of his lip, his stomach tightening at the thought of Thor being so close to you. Too close to you. He caught himself in his thinking and hastily glanced around the room to see if anyone could see his shameful envy but trained his vision right back to you. He had not seen Natasha's eyes watching the interaction, a sly smile vanishing from her face as she returned to her own escapades. Loki had not been honest with himself about the nature of his feelings. Exacerbated by the immensely seductive and threatening air of confidence the dress appeared to give you, Loki found himself needing to swallow a lump in his throat whenever his eyes caught your body. You were truly radiant. Your gaze matched his for a fraction of a second, and your eyes widened, a timid smile adorning your face. His heart fluttered, but he morphed his expression to display a cocky grin. He leaned down to you, not a very far distance, but still enough to be uneasily close to your ear.

"Forgive me, but it looks like you're in somewhat of a bind. You might want to be careful, or someone might make use of it," the god of mischief said, pinching your side a bit between his thumb and two fingers. You jumped and coughed to cover up a surprised laugh.

Looking up at Loki's killer smile sent shivers down your spine, and you rapidly became aware of just how much leverage the brothers had over you. Knowing that the brothers had done something like this to you before meant that they wouldn't hesitate to do it again, and that thought put you on a very steep edge. 

Loki noticed the way your eyes scanned the room as your crisis deepened. Although he kept the smirk on his face, he faltered. It wasn't difficult to tell that if your so-called weakness were to be exposed, your anxiety would lay in the judgment of others. Any other day, he wouldn't have cared much about it and would have tickled you to pieces then and there. Now, although his ego was too great to admit it, he was nervous to touch you. You seemed delicate. Deadly but fragile. You were a toxin sitting atop a high shelf, contained within the bounds of thin glass walls. 

And he was intoxicated. 

Loki cleared his throat and retracted his hands. Thor eyed him skeptically and released some of the pressure on his arm but still held firm, even though you protested and pinched him. Loki's gaze flitted from you to the surrounding vehicle and fell back to Thor. The brothers gave an almost imperceptible nod, a mutual understanding that only could be understood by blood. 

Thor shifted and took a deep breath, continuing a conversation that you had failed to listen to. "Well, we all know that childhood was not the easiest for all of us," he said with a sad smile. 

"I don't know, I had a pretty easy-going life as a kid," Bucky shrugged. "It wasn't until Uncle Sam over here decided to join the ranks that shit hit the fan." 

"Come on, Buck," Steve said, rolling his eyes with a cynical smile. "It's a damn good thing I decided to join or--"

"Yeah, you wouldn't have been able to keep those bullies off your back, huh?" 

"Ah, shut up." Steve shook his head, and Bucky chuckled. 

"You sound like a fine pair," Thor smiled warmly and gestured to them. "Loki and I growing up were usually at odds, but there were plenty of fond memories as well. Can you think of anything, brother?" Thor's specific emphasis on his brother's name caught your attention, and as it dawned on you that they had hatched some sort of plan, your stomach rippled with nerves. 

Loki smiled and dipped his chin in a blatant imitation of humility to you and Thor, but it was a "genuine" reflection of the past to anyone else. Loki softly chuckled and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands animating his story by his face. 

"Asgard is unique in its ability to cultivate some of the Nine Realms' most potent healing fruits and medicinal herbs," He began. "Fields filled with trees bearing fruits of every color, all gleaming brilliantly as if they were made of gold. Thor and I would play with the other children in these fields. One day, we came across this grove of apple trees that we hadn't seen before, and naturally, we got curious. I dared Thor to eat one, and he did--"

"Loki, tell the story right," Thor scolded. "You held a knife to my throat and threatened me to eat it."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, either way, he ate the apple. Once Thor had proven that the apples were safe, we all began climbing the trees and eating them. Little did we know, those apples were enchanted with a compliance spell. Asgard laces these fruit into particularly stubborn prisoners' diets to calm them down and make the truth more pliable. We must have eaten two trees' worth of fruit. The rest of the day, we told stories under the shade of these mystical apple trees. Our dreams were filled with fantasies beyond your wildest imaginations. In all sincerity, I found the dreams to be the most enjoyable. Days and nights passed us by, but we paid little attention. We were so engrossed in our stories that we began crafting our own when we finally ran out of them. The elders came looking for us after three days."

"Oh, were they ever mad," Thor commented.

"Quite. Not only were we missing for a substantial amount of time, but we had successfully devoured Asgard's entire supply of some of its most potent weapons. We were none the wiser." 

"Aye, and it lasted longer than just that day as well. Brother, I'm sure you remember what happened to your magic." Thor waggled his eyebrows and earned an eye roll in response. 

"It was an embarrassment," Loki sneered. 

"Loki was caught in Odin's chambers by none other than Odin himself. What were you doing, again? Trying to steal some, er...chest plate or...?"

"For your information, it was the same armor that Odin bore in the Æsir–Vanir War. It would have sold for a glorious sum." Loki paused and glanced down at you for a fraction of a moment before looking back to the group. "And the only reason he caught me was because those damned apples prevented me from using my magic or being dishonest. I told him right then and there what I was doing. From that day, I vowed to never lie again. You can tell how well that exactly planned out."

There were a few scattered laughs and sardonic scoffs resounding through the cabin. At this moment, Loki sat up straight and, without taking his eyes off the group, reached over to your knee (which were well concealed by Thor's legs) and began to squeeze the muscle above your knee-cap. Though his hands were over the fabric of your dress, the material was thin and did little to protect you. You jumped and held your breath, kicking out at the little shocks traveling up your leg. Giggles immediately began bubbling in your stomach, and you broke from sheer surprise, laughing and pushing harder against Thor. Loki withdrew his unseen assault and sat back, feigning surprise at your outburst. 

"My, agent, I knew I was funny, but I didn't expect such a boisterous reaction," he said, falling back into his seat with a frustratingly smug smile. 

That bastard. He had waited for the perfect time to enact his little scheme and still managed to embarrass you without giving away your secret. Part of you wondered if you should be grateful that he did it out of the other's sight, but the other more defensive part of you was busied attempting to form an excuse for your eruption. As you glanced up at his devious gaze, you caught a certain softness in his eyes and decided against bantering at this moment. Not only did he have a significant advantage over you, but the dress did little to aid your full scope of movements. 

"Oh, you know me, Loki," you said, half sarcastic, half strained. "Always a great sense of humor." 

From that moment on, the car ride became a little easier to bear. Loki's story had sparked another conversation amidst the group and Peter, who emphatically told stories about his childhood before the spider bite. Clint mumbled a joke that you could barely hear, and everyone besides you and Loki laughed. Thor had since removed the weight from his arm, and you figured whatever tricks they had in mind had ended with the last effort. However, as the indistinct jokes made their way through the car, an empty, hollow feeling filled your stomach. 

While Loki couldn't exactly make out what was being said either, he wasn't paying enough attention to care. His eyes watched as your eyes fell to your hands in your lap, twisting a steel ring around your right ring finger. You fiddled with it absentmindedly, your smile twitching every few moments upwards as you listened halfheartedly to different conversations.  All of the Avengers had a band similar to this one - almost like a mark of loyalty, Tony had handed them out at one meeting, flaunting the tracking devices and other expensive gadgets embedded into the metal. Loki had also received a ring but decided to keep it in his pocket-dimension and out of sight. It felt more like a symbol of status rather than a generous gift, and while he was grateful to be acknowledged as part of the team, he was still too stubborn to display it. 

There was a distant look in your eye, and the pauses of silence rippling through conversations exposed your gloomy frown. Seeing you so downtrodden stirred something in Loki, almost to the point of anger, but softer. Before he had a chance to stop himself, he reached his hand over to your lap and draped his fingers gently over yours. 

Loki's hand felt cold against yours, and it pulled you from your thoughts. 

If the world had stopped spinning or the crew had stopped their chatter, you wouldn't have noticed.

Some hours later, you had barely noticed as the car drove into New York City. What gave it away was Peter's excitement about finally being home. The traffic gradually increased, and the roads narrowed, moving under bridges and through tunnels you had once been able to recognize. It had been so long since returning to the city that you surprised yourself when you knew the name of the street you were driving on. Everywhere your eyes touched, billboards illuminated your vision and advertised some show, product, or insurance that you couldn't have cared less about. These things all seemed so minuscule in the grand scheme of...well, everything. 

From the time you entered the city, it took about forty-five minutes until the limousine pulled over, and it halted to its final stop. Tony wrapped on the shaded window behind him, and it slid open. Holding a dollar bill through his pointer and middle fingers, he slipped it through the gap, and the glass subsequently slid shut. 

Tony clapped. "Quick few rules. If you're going to drink, fine, but I don't want my sponsors knowing how slobbered some superhumans can actually get. Just don't puke on anyone. Be nice to them, please, okay? They already did the speeches, so all we have to do is mingle. And lastly, don't accept any drinks from strangers. Alright, kiddies, let's get out there."

The outside of the venue was nothing to sneeze at. Through a vast, almost chapel-looking stained glass window, you could see the silhouette of what looked like to be a crystal chandelier, giving a mysterious and intimidatingly elegant look to the brick structure. The buildings in New York City always looked cramped together, but all the facilities held some variant of the same story within their walls. A writer desperate the find their meaning in a studio apartment; a fancy restaurant or hotel to attract particularly well-endowed travelers (though the owner himself is almost always an outsider); the coffee shop or corner store that only a few people visit in a given day; the audio and radio shops desirous of drawing in any customer in a given radius for cheap supplies. They were all the same. Yet somehow, even amongst everyone who held the duplicate titles of "trying-to-survive-the-world-on-their-own," you felt isolated. Your job put you on a pedestal made up of dead humans and aliens alike, and simply being invited to a party of this magnitude felt selfish. 

Loki was the first to step out of the car, as he was closest to the door. He didn't wait for the driver to open the door for him and opted to let himself out of the vehicle. You followed suit and hunched your body as Thor lifted his arm. The brisk evening air of the city clutched your ankles, and you quivered, letting your heels support your weight on the concrete sidewalk. Stepping on the grates of the sidewalks would guarantee your heels to catch them and would result in a stumble, so you decided to linger closer to the building as the others stepped out of the car as well. While the temperature outside wasn't completely unbearable, with the thin clothing covering only the necessary parts of you, it did nothing to conceal your shivers. 

Loki stepped over to you as the other began their hustle out of the automobile, his hands in his jacket pocket, his chin dipped a bit down. He took his place parallel to you and watched as Bruce shut the door of the limousine behind him. He caught the eye of a few inquisitive bystanders who roamed the sidewalks but found himself paying them little mind. In all the time Loki had gotten to know your traits and personality, this was the timidest he had seen you. Your arms were tightly crossed, and your gaze locked on your teammates, occasionally glancing at the decorated individuals making their way up the steps to the ballroom. Goosebumps were coating the exposed part of your shoulders. You were trembling. 

"It might have been wise to bring a coat," he commented with a teasing smile. 

You humorlessly chuckled. "We'll only be outside for a few more minutes. I've handled worse."

Knowing he would get nowhere with you, he sighed and analyzed your face, which gave no hints as to breaking your stubbornness. He sighed and pulled his hand from his pocket, waving it in the air for a brief moment. The air seemed to respond to his movements, and before you had any chance to protest, your shoulder was shrouded in a green light that traveled up your arms, leaving a cream-colored fabric that fell just above your hips. The cloak's collar was made of an invaluable feeling fur that hid your neck from the elements of the autumn air, the wool of the coat protecting your painted fingers from the breeze.

At first, you had gasped, startled at the sudden weighted warmth that enveloped your shoulders, but looking at Loki with his smug smile only dissuaded you from scolding him. In reality, it was dangerous for him to use his magic in the middle of so many people, but you knew that he understood that risk. You turned your head towards the steps of the building (mainly to hide the blush that found itself on the apples of your cheeks) but found yourself drawn to the front doors of the venue. Endless people flowed in and out of the building, and you wondered how many people would be attending the part for its entire duration. 

"You know," you said, turning your gaze back to Loki. "It's not safe to use your magic so publicly."

He chuckled. "Perhaps. Maybe this world is more used to magic than you know." 

"Maybe."

"Magic presents itself in different ways on Midgard. You Midgardians are quite easily fooled."

You hummed. "I wouldn't say that. I think we just...enjoy the mysterious." 

"As do I. I don't mean foolish as in idiotic. I mean that Midgardians tend to be oblivious to the magic that surrounds them daily. An answered prayer possibly, or a strange coincidence...love." 

You turned to him to catch his gaze, but his eyes fell somewhere else. "Are you calling me 'love,' or are you saying that love is magic?" 

"Love itself is not magic, darling. Love is more of an infatuation riddled with good intentions and heavy sentiments. But...love does have elements of magic if you care to look. When two people catch each other's eyes from across the room, would you call that an odd coincidence?" 

"Probably." 

"Remember what I just told you about coincidences?" 

Before you allowed yourself to say anything, a particularly disheveled-looking man on a boisterous business call came barrelling down the sidewalk. You wouldn't have noticed him at all if it weren't for the fact that he had plowed into Loki. Loki's stance held firm as the man side-checked him, and for a second, your heart caught in your throat. You were more scared for the man's consequences, but Loki's hands never left his pockets, and his stern gaze never left the man's face. Uttering a typical but slightly intimidated New York "watch it" over his shoulder as he stomped away, the stranger made no effort to continue his encounter. 

"Would you call that a coincidence?" You laughed. 

Loki shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching the man as he shuffled down the sidewalk. "Perception doesn't seem to be one of Midgard's strong suits either." His eyes bounced from different billboards plastered on buildings, each of them shifting their advertisements within a few seconds of each other. You smiled as one of the billboards faded to a bright red rotating 'A,' the Avengers logo spinning behind snippets of your teammates mid-action. At one point, you saw a flash of Loki and you fighting side by side together on a mission that you were assigned in Bolivia a few months in the past. You nudged Loki and nodded to the advertisement just as his face faded from the camera and into a bright yellow Broadway display.

"It makes me wonder how they got that clip of us," you pondered and watched as Sam's jacket fluttered from the air as he walked through the door to the ball. The corner of your lip found its way in between your teeth, and you took a deep breath. "I guess we should start thinking about going inside, huh?"

Loki shrugged and tilted his head. "I'm quite content being outside, actually." 

"I know. Honestly, me too." 

Loki glanced down at you, catching the flash of anxiety that crept over your eyes. Hesitantly, he put his hand on your shoulder and met your gaze as you looked up at him. "If it's any solace to you, may I accompany you tonight?" 

'Accompany me' were the first words to leave your lips, your head desperately trying to wrap itself around the idea of you being Loki's date for the night. Was it even a date? Or was this just a company outing? A rather big company outing, of course, but as you saw the sincerity in his eyes, a soft smile replaced your shocked expression. Your heart swelled at the thought of having someone by your side for the duration of the dance, though something about it made you a bit apprehensive. Having a friend at parties such as these was a welcome gift, even though said 'friend' was actually a literal God. "I'd appreciate that," you said. 

Loki's appearance lifted into a bright smile, and he dipped his chin down, the same grin on his lips. Without a word, he put his hand on the small of your back, gently leading you to the bottom of the steps. Even with the magically made cloak protecting you, you could feel the soft pressure of his hand pressing into your skin. It was a welcome touch, albeit a disarming one. 

The life you had led thus far would never have prepared you for such a moment. The constant training, the heat of battle, sweat, blood, and tears donated haphazardly to your life's work held no moment that taught you how to fight your nerves. There had been missions where you would have to imitate a flirty waitress or even the woman on the date, but they were all moments lost in time. You swallowed as the bouncer opened the door for you, Loki following behind. 

The double doors opened into a large banquet hall, more extensive than you had expected from the cramped brick appearance. A piano player was swaying back and forth in his seat in the far right corner of the room, dressed in a full tuxedo and a corsage that looked somehow more expensive than what you imagined his services could have cost. You wondered if he wore the same outfit every night but were caught off guard by a woman in a black vest offering to take your cloak. You politely declined and thanked her as she moved on to repeat her offer to the pair who entered behind you. A quartet of stringed instruments crescendoed in the same corner of the room as the grand piano, triggering a few dancing couples to dip their torsos towards the ground robotically and synchronously. If this place was anything, it was elegant. Everything sparkled, from the frosted look of the dance floor, which took up around half of the room, to a rich man's hairless head buying himself a glass of wine; there was nary a thing that wasn't shrouded in gleams. You tugged the cloak closer to your chest, your red-fingered gloves peeking out slightly over the cover's fur. 

The white marble of the ball clicked against your heels, the sound barely making a dent in the noise amidst the tinkling of glass and chatter of braggarts. The crystal chandelier hung high above your heads, much grander than you had been able to see through the window. The wall adjacent to the window was coated in a mirage of colors, gasoline and water appearing to collide against the cream-colored wall; the chandelier reflected the city's light onto everything you couldn't touch. There was red tapestry with golden trims hanging from every ceiling corner, the drapes on the upstairs windows matching the same hue. Several large round tables with chairs encompassing them took up the other half of the room, each of the mahogany pieces of furniture coupled with red upholstery. The tables were covered with egg-shell linens, with varying-sized candles and fancy mints as the centerpieces. Behind the mass of tables, an extensive buffet accompanied by a bar with several hard-working attendants bustles with life. 

Surrounding the room's perimeter, pedestals displaying different art pieces, each with their own strange haecceity, sat behind a red velvet rope. It could have been a joke if some of these entrepreneurs were smart enough to understand it. Priceless pieces of work, hand-sculpted or painted through painstaking hours, in a room where no one will buy them because they already have too much but are the only ones financially capable of doing so. The rope does little to stop anyone, mainly because no one needs to be stopped. You wondered how many of these Tony owned. Several people waltzed towards you, and Loki guided you out of the way before your staring had caused an accident. 

You glanced up and hooked your fingers around the crook of Loki's arm. The gesture was customary for those attending a party, you told yourself, although your heart began to race. A work party, with work friends, for work-related business. He was warm. You couldn't know if you imagined it, but as you brought your other hand to hold Loki's arm, you could have sworn you felt his elbow stiffen. As you watched his fingers ball into a fist, wonted for a nobleman's hold, you smirked. 

"If I didn't know better, I would have mistaken you for a gentleman," you teased, squeezing his elbow. 

Loki fought the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned close to you. "I'll remind to you watch your tone, darling. You wouldn't want me to make a show of you in public, now would you?"

"Loki," you swatted at him, and he laughed. "God, you know, one day I'm going to get you back for everything."

"Hah! Do you surely believe I would let that happen? That will be the day where I will personally bring you well within inches of your life. You're better off wiping that thought from your consciousness." 

Though your stomach flipped at his threat, you bumped your eyebrows. "Why? Can't handle it?" 

"My, you must have a death wish tonight." 

"Or, you're covering up the fact that you're ticklish." 

Truthfully, it was the first time the thought had come to mind and the first thing you blurted out, but as you saw how Loki's features fell and landed on you with a cold stare, you knew you had discovered something you shouldn't have. Deciding to dig your grave further, you rubbed at his side lightly with your wrist, but he made no move to indicate it bothered him.  

Loki scoffed and shrugged. "You assumed incorrectly, love." 

"Oh, please. I'm not even trying," you said. "I'll have my chance eventually." 

"Don't be so certain." 

Loki led you around crowded tables and dancers to the table designated to the team, some with plates of food and a few others scattering themselves around the room to make small talk. Bruce nodded at Natasha and pushed out his seat, standing up and walking towards the bar, although an iced whiskey idled in front of his chair. Loki pulled out a chair for you, and you thanked him before he sat himself down as well. The party felt smaller in this quiet corner of the room, and you couldn't make out if the feeling in your gut was a good or bad one. On the one hand, the swarm of people dancing obstructed your view of the musicians, something that wouldn't have commonly troubled others; as a spy, the best advantage was being aware of your surroundings. Crowds were easy to get lost in, chaotic enough to cover damage, loud enough to

"Hey," Natasha's cold fingers on the top of yours yanked you from your thoughts. As you looked at her, you caught a flash of concern contorting her face before she let her features soften. "Would you mind going to get me a glass of wine? I sent Bruce over there a few minutes ago, but he's nerding out with one of the sponsors," Natasha nodded to her left. As though on queue, the elderly sponsor conversing about what sounded like microbiology cackled with glee. 

You took a breath and nodded, patting her hand with a smile as you stood. You didn't notice, but as Loki stepped up to follow you, Natasha put her hand up. Tentatively, he lowered himself back into his seat, watching as you regretfully were pulled into the boisterous conversation alone. What you knew about microbiology, Loki had no clue, but your confident air could have fooled the most observant of personalities. Not him, of course. 

The scowl that replaced Natasha's gentle smile meant business; it was not difficult to know that. What could she have possibly wanted with him, Loki wondered. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. Their body language was not too far off from synchronized, though Loki's was easily more curious rather than the agent's criticality. 

Natasha pulled the whiskey from Bruce's placemat, her nails clinking against the glass as she took a sip. Her icy stare left Loki as she looked away for a brief moment to align the cup's base precisely into the water-logged imprint it had left on the table. 

"What are your intentions with her?" The agent asked bluntly. 

"I beg your pardon?" Loki's face scrunched into an offended glare. The audacity this woman must have had to inquire about his relationships. His private life. Although he found himself putting on a defensive exterior, the energy it had taken to suppress his affections for you had grown exponentially in the past few months; he knew that as a fact.   

"Save it. I've seen the way you look at each other. You'd have to be blind not to pick up on it." Natasha smirked. 

"I suppose you'd be the expert in such things?" Loki challenged, targeting a sore spot in the agent's psyche.

"Cool it," she warned, leaning her elbows onto the table. "I'm not threatening you. Though if you hurt her, I may just have to."

"I believe that is a threat, agent."

"I just want to know what your intentions are." 

"I have no intentions," He paused, glimpsing at your considerate smile amid your conversation. "You sent her away on purpose," Loki concluded, tilting his chin towards his chest. "You didn't want her to be a part of this conversation." 

"No," Natasha confirmed. "I don't care if you admit your feelings or not. It's not my business. But you should know that she's not going to admit to hers." 

Loki debated on disguising his feelings once more but realized its futility. His front had long been exposed. His eyebrows furrowed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"She has a long history. It's not my story to tell, but," She pushed herself away from the table and stood up. "If you honestly have no intentions, then you're already playing with her feelings."

"I am by no means-" 

"I'm just going to cut to the chase," Natasha said with finality in her tone. "If you hurt her, I won't hesitate to kill you where you stand." Without another word nor sound, Natasha slipped away into the crowd of people who danced not ten feet from where the table was set, her near-empty glass of whiskey being the only reminder that she had been there at all. 

The accusation had left a bitter taste in Loki's mouth. The fact that Natasha had been able to read him so quickly... the fact that he let himself be that easy to read, it stirred itself into a large knot in Loki's head. Exponentially, he began to realize just how effortless it was to be softened by one's time on Midgard. Earth had made him weak, and the god scowled at the thought. His brother had gone through the same sort of conundrum when he was first outcasted from Asgard, and Loki had mocked him for it. Ironic, considering there had been a time where Loki protected the one his brother loved. 

Could he even call this love - this rogue infatuation with you? What was love but the fascination with someone who makes you feel at home? Or was it that he had just never been able to experience what love actually stirred inside of its victims? Loki had known several individuals in his life that he had been romantically attracted to, most of them immortal, and yet something was disastrously captivating about you. His head was on a pully system. Loki had been raised a prince; he had danced with many maidens, and all of those maidens he had consequently rejected. Now, here comes this mortal who fights for his enemies, and he loses his speech at your mere presence.  Prior, Loki supposed. What had happened? The second his thoughts would wander, the string wrapped around his emotions would stretch taut, and he would be brought back to the same distracting ideas of your delineation. 

The music crescendoed again, a few brass instruments holding the melody as the crowd responded in time. Some of them even jumped, a select few of them being caught and lowered back to the floor by their partner's hands around their waists. It certainly wasn't the first time he had thoughts like these, his hands holding your body close to his. While these fantasies held true to their name, there were always brief moments in history where fantasies teetered on the edge of being truthful. This was one of those moments, where flashes of magic slip through cracks and crevices, stealing its way into naive hearts. Before, he had described to you that your world had been filled with magic, and part of him wondered if you believed him. A significantly smaller portion of him deliberated if you believed in fairytales.

A bartender ornamented in an obscene amount of brightly colored pins slid a glass of deep red wine to you from across the bar, and you nodded at her with a friendly smile, returning to your conversation with Bruce and the elderly sponsor. Now that he looked at it, the man who conversed with you was not elderly by any means. His hair was thinning and gray, his hands adorned with at least six gleaming golden rings per hand. The man's fingers hung loosely by his side, your dress just blocking Loki's view of the man's jewelry. Loki scoffed and picked up the glass of whiskey, downing it in one gulp. A child could have guessed that Earth's finest liquors weren't enough to even touch an Asgardian's alcohol tolerance, but he felt the need to have something in his stomach other than his nerves. 

The man reached around behind his chair, stealing peaks at your face as the conversation continued. Something about his body language disturbed Loki, mainly because he had seen the same impish behavior in himself once upon a time. The man lifted his fingers and reached to the rear of your dress, gathering his hand and pinching your behind. 

Loki didn't have the wits about him to see you backhand the man yourself, effectively taking care of the problem without anyone's assistance. However, as the man reached up to grab his face where your hand had left a blazing red mark, Loki gripped the man's wrist and tore him from his seat, flinging him onto the ground. In less than a second, Loki had thrown the man onto the carpeted floor with a slamming thud and stepped his left heel onto the offending wrist, holding the man's other arm as he stood. The conniption had captivated the attention of a small crowd, some dancers slowing their movements and hushing their voices to eavesdrop on the disarray. The sponsor cried out and grunted against Loki's weight as he heavied himself. 

"I'll make you an offer," Loki snarled as he pressed his weight down into the man's wrist, making the sponsor splutter and curse beneath him. This felt familiar. "If you leave, you get to keep your fingers. If you give anyone," Loki hardened his grip. "...any difficulties upon your exit, I will not hesitate to take off your arm." 

Okay, maybe it wasn't the kindest thing to do, you argued with yourself as Loki threw down the offender's arm. Your torso was slouched across the bar, a wineglass rim and a smirk pressed to your lips as you watched the scuffle from afar. I mean, he did assault you. Then again, you also attacked him back. Maybe it's just karma. The man pushed himself about five feet away from Loki, his hair disheveled and his shirt untucked. After unsuccessfully pushing himself up a few times, he finally was able to stand himself upright, flustered and offended. For a second, you thought that he was going to try to attack Loki, the way he squared his shoulders and his face beating red. He wouldn't have stood a chance against a God, but part of you wondered if the sponsor even knew of Loki's status. Getting in a fight with an agent of the Avengers was one thing. One very mighty thing, of course. However, getting into an altercation with an Avenger who additionally was quasi-immortal didn't make for a brilliant choice. 

The man eyed you hesitantly. You raised your glass to him, bumping your eyebrows as he mumbled and turned away to walk to the door. Loki stood rigidly in place as the crowd of dancers parted way for the instigator to pass through. Some of them had shrugged and immediately returned to dancing; most had returned to their tables, seeking sustenance after having witnessed something that intense. The bar became instantly busier as a myriad of wealthy individuals thronged to get inebriated. You slipped away between expensive coats back to the table, placing your wine glass in front of your seat. What a party. You haven't even been here for an hour, and you've already caused a bar fight.

"Loki," you called, his attention snapping to you. 

The group of morbidly curious onlookers had since dissipated, leaving him standing between the wooden dance floor and the carpeted dinner area alone. He shook his head and trotted to the table, placing his palms on the back of his chair. "If this was an Asgardian gathering, he would have had his fingers cut off for such an offense. Are you alright?" 

You shrugged, offering a sympathetic smile. "It's not abnormal to get a creepy guy at a party." 

Yes, it was, Loki told himself. The culture shock of these realms was a personal hell, sometimes. "Yes, well, I'm sorry it was you who had to deal with that." 

You barked a sardonic laugh. "All I did was slap the guy. You're the one who knocked a few teeth loose." You paused, running your thumb across the top rail, pulling out the chair a bit. You unhooked the cloak and hung it over the chair, shuddering at the lost warmth. "I guess I owe you a 'thanks.'"

Loki peered at you. "You're not upset?" 

"No, but I'm kind of curious what he would have done after I slapped him," you chuckled and shrugged, looking down into your wine. "Tony may be another issue. He did tell us to be nice to his sponsors."

"I'm sure Stark will understand the circumstances." 

"You better hope so. He's probably going to receive a strongly worded email by next week." 

"I'd bet sooner than that." 

You both shared a short laugh. The party had started to calm down a bit, most of the patrons choosing a meal over their fanciful footwork, but a few couples still swayed together, the womens' rounded dresses ruffling outwards as they spun. You made a move to pull out your chair to sit down, and Loki faltered, a conflicted look set into his brow. The music came to a gradual silence, only the sharp ringing of a violin's highest string echoing throughout the room. As much as he hated to admit it, Natasha was right. It had to be now or never, and if he waited much longer, he ran the risk of hurting you. Though he was not frightened of Natasha's threat, Loki did not appreciate the anger boiling in his gut when imagining himself being the source of your pain.

Meanwhile, the music exploded into a dazzling symphony of strings. It hushed soon after, the tempo of the song slowing.  "Before you sit," he ventured. "While threatening the lives of your foes is fiercely entertaining, we do have another two hours before we're to be dismissed. If you're willing, would you care to join me for a dance?" 

"Oh, Loki, you don't have to. It's really okay," You yammered, your hands coming up in front of you. There was no possible way he was asking you to dance. Sure, he had asked you to accompany him to the ball, but you thought that it had been in passing or a kind gesture to help you feel better. Even so, as you caught the subtle stress that immersed into his brow, it hit you. This was genuine. He was being honest. Your heart thumped in your chest, and you prayed that the flushing in your ears was not apparent. 

"You misunderstand," Loki said and offered his hand out, secretly confirming your suspicions. "I'm sure of my actions." 

A half-formed thought lodged itself in your throat, and your mouth became dry. You reached up and tentatively rested your fingers in Loki's outstretched hand. His fingers folded delicately onto yours, the temperature of his fingers drastically different than your own. The world was slow despite your wine having been practically untouched, but your heartbeat intense. He held your hand with a thin smile, leading you through dancing sponsors to an abandoned spot in the corner of the room. 

As you passed, skirts of varying colors and designed dresses brushed against your ankles. It was remarkable how little attention these so-called sponsors paid to any of the Avengers. Getting through thick crowds should not have been this easy, especially with people of your and Loki's repute...or any of your team for that matter. Despite the fact, you were able to spot a conversation between Sam and Bucky, Bruce and Natasha swaying in the other corner of the room, and Tony introducing Peter to a stranger with large glasses. You even noticed a dejected-looking Thor who sat with Steve at the table you had just been taken from. 

The floor of the designated dancing area bloomed in color as if a craftsman had spent hours painting a watercolored landscape onto the glossed wood. The ground was the only thing you could focus on as he led you in and out of sponsors, weaving through endless people. When you finally reached the unoccupied spot in the corner, Loki turned around with an expectant smirk, your hand still in his. 

"Have you danced before?" 

No. "Absolutely." 

"Then you know the steps?" He approached you, placing a steady hand on your waist, and you instinctually reached your empty hand to rest on his arm. His cologne or perhaps his natural scent permeated the air, and you desperately attempted to feign a composed expression. He slowly lifted your hand in the air, stepping a bit forward. He stopped for a moment and chuckled to himself, cocking his eyebrow at you. "You expect me to believe you've done this before? Or am I making you nervous?" 

"Wh-what? I'm not nervous, Loki." you reddened. Everything was happening rapidly and not fast enough at the same time. Part of you yearned to be closer to him, to press his chest to yours, to feel his frigid fingers tangled with yours. Still, you couldn't move. Was it rude to examine a God's face? Maybe, but his eyes were just as alluring as they were bright, and his skin practically glowed under the room's multicolored spotlights. 

"But, I'm correct in assuming you've never danced," Loki predicted. 

"Yes," you sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I knew what I was doing. I haven't danced with anyone since Carter Gurts in the seventh grade." 

Loki chuckled and dipped his chin to his chest, gently beginning to lead you in his waltz-like steps. "Carter Gurts?" 

"Don't even get me started," you groaned, doing your best to ignore his proximity to you. "It was my middle school formal. He got nervous and threw up," you cringed. 

"That's repulsive." 

"Tell me about it." 

Loki bit the inside of his cheek, studying your features. "I can promise you that we won't repeat that little memory," he laughed. Your face lit up into a bright and cheerful giggle, and you thanked him for his sensitivities. 

He pushed you outwards and wrapped his arm over your head and around your back, keeping his hand in yours. You followed his direction and were taken into a spin, your dress fluttering outwards. When you turned to face your partner again, you tripped on a rogue plank of wood that peaked out just an inch higher than the others. You fell forward, wrapping your arms around Loki's neck to steady yourself. Loki caught your bodice, and you two fell into an embrace. 

"You know, if you hadn't fallen over yourself, we may have been able to pass that off as deliberate," Loki grinned. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

Norns, you were beautiful. 

Your eyes glistened as the light of a yellow spotlight coruscated over your forehead, fading into the sea of colors behind you. Loki wanted to stay like this forever. Why did he feel like he had lived this moment before? How warm you were compared to him and how soft your hands were compared to his calloused skin. It was ironic, considering how much dirty work you had to do as a spy. He wondered if you noticed, but you didn't, nor did he feel how your body trembled. Your smile had turned his words into sticky sweet syrup, but he refused to rid the taste of you. It was as though all those stories he told as a child had come to reality, fables of finding love and princesses in different worlds. Those apple trees had borne more than just their fruit, uncovering glimpses of his future love. Archaic swatches of color mingled around each other in passing visions that he couldn't make out. All he understood at the time was that those perceptions had somehow comforted him. Now, he understood that he had seen you. 

There were certain things that Loki had taken pride in - one of those things being that he never made the first move. But here and now, as he fell deeper and deeper, he found himself desperate to explore you. He took his hand from yours and reached to your jaw, gently tracing along the bottom of your cheek. He outlined your chin and hesitated over your lips with his thumb. You were so tempting. He faltered, placing his palm at the base of your neck. 

The piano and orchestra had long fallen into the background noise of the party, though sometimes the music would increase in volume and disturb your thoughts. Now was not one of those times. Loki's lips brushed against yours, and as the music crescendoed for the final time in the song, you closed the short space between you, sealing the kiss. You debated pulling away for a moment, but feeling the passion and drive behind his kiss, you allowed yourself to sink further into the heat of the moment. Butterflies spurred to life in your stomach. Loki's lips were softer than you would have imagined, and you felt the heated gust of his breath against your skin. He was the first to pull back, but he remained close to you, cupping your jaw in his hands as the music stirred into what felt like a celebratory chorus. He rubbed the edge of your cheek with his thumb and gazed into your eyes.

"You're as red as your dress, darling," Loki quipped, his brow turning inwards. 

"Can you blame me?" You reached up and put a hand on his. "Is this really how you feel?" It was a question that may have been interpreted as insecure, but you couldn't care at this moment. You had spent countless amounts of time pondering over these types of possibilities. Falling in love, dancing, even sheltering a (substantial) crush on Loki. Never in a million years did you think it would actually happen. The trickster's eyes had always given away his secrets; you had been able to learn his mannerisms and some of his 'tells' from the sheer amount of time you two spent in each other's company.  Standing in front of him with his eyes more avid than you had ever seen them, you finally let down your guard. 

"I think a better question is if you feel the same way," He removed his palms from your jaw and placed them both at your waist, staring eagerly into your eyes. 

"I would have left if I wasn't feeling it, Loki," you laughed. 

"So then you did?" 

"Did what?" 

"Feel it." 

In all reality, there wasn't a need to put your feelings into words - that could be saved for a better time. You nodded at Loki, the elated grin you wore answering every question he needed to know. He quickly took his hands and placed them on the sides of your head, bringing you in for a chaste kiss. 

Who were you two but oil and water; both inherently deadly from two different worlds with individually unique lifespans.  How the universe could have arranged something like this to happen was something foreign to you. Every moment in time had aligned for this to be a reality, a thought too implausible to even discuss. 

He replaced his fingers on your waist and squeezed, lifting you up and twirling you around him. In an entirely involuntary response, you squeaked and tucked your elbows, giggling as his thumbs dug into your sides. The sudden motion set Loki off balance, and he struggled to put you down softly instead of dropping you. Shit. This was not the place. The severity of the situation dawned on you only milliseconds earlier than Loki, and a conniving grin replaced his solicitous look.

"Uh oh," Loki tantalized, refreshing his grip on your torso. With his thumbs perched at the sides of your belly, he dug in the slightest bit, and you jumped at the same time your elbows fell inwards. "Are you alright, love? Something bothering you?" 

"Loki, not right now," You scolded him, failing to conceal your silly expression. "We can't--" 

"Draw attention?" Loki interrupted. Leaning close, he brought his forearm around your back, pulling you as tight as possible. The light and dainty music, obviously made for a romantic type of dance, was the perfect excuse to have you as close as you were to him. "My dear, this party was held with the intention of showing you off. You truly think I care about a bit of an audience?"  His whispers were hot in your ear, and goosebumps dispersed over your arms like the cape he had conjured for you.

"Okay, you may not, but I do," You giggled, putting your hands on his chest to push away. You did your best to dispel any lewd thoughts that came up, but his chest was substantially firm behind your touch, and you abruptly realized that you didn't want to move.

"How foolish to think you have much choice in the matter," He taunted, his fingers now skittering to life and scratching at your lower ribs. Attempting to cover your giggles with a cough didn't do as much as you had hoped. His proximity to your body prevented you from moving either forwards or backward, as his forearm had tightened behind your back, forcing you to press into him. 

"Wahait, Lokhihihi!" You halfheartedly pleaded, twisting your torso a bit to see the other patrons. Luckily, no one had paid any attention to your laughter, too busy with their own to focus on someone else's disorder. 

To your chagrin, as you turned, Loki took the opportunity to walk his fingers up to the base of your armpit, scribbling in the hollow space with a wicked grin. You were instantly thrown into hysterics, your arms coming down to your sides in defense. As much as you did your best to hold in your noises, every few seconds, you'd chortle louder than you had intended. Some people would occasionally throw snide looks your way but return their attention in moments.   

"You do realize that this is payback," Loki noted. 

"Whahat?! Fohor- fahahaha - Shit, Loki!" 

"That little stunt," He emphasized his point by pulling you tighter against his body, shaking two fingers against the edge of your upper ribs. You squeaked and dissolved into helpless giggling. "...you drew in the hallway before. Trying to tickle me - the god of mischief, of all people. And in public, might I add. It's a shame, really," Loki baited, trailing his hand down and pinching at the meat above your hip. "You are so intelligent, and yet you do such stupid things."

You bucked against him, the fabric of your dress limiting any protection against his fingers. There was nowhere to go that he would allow, and the reality of the power he held sank in. As your laughter grew in volume, so did the heat that ran over your cheeks. "N-nahahaha...NNG! NOHOHO-" As to hide the violent eruption that echoed over the orchestra, you buried your face into Loki's shoulder, still fumbling for a desperate grip on his skittering hands. It was the only thing you could think of to muffle the racket as he turned his attack to the sliver of skin where your side met your back. Your laughter was nearing desperate, and your urge to scream only heightened along with it. 

"Careful, darling," He whispered, stilling his fingers. His words were betrayed by the smile lacing his diction. "Don't want to cause a scene, now do we?"

"It's your fauhault that I am!" You mumbled into his chest. 

A dark growl of a chuckle escaped his sigh, and he coiled his assaulting arm around you, holding you close. Embracing Loki felt like two worlds colliding, something strange and beautiful but deep-seated and dangerous. His touch was powerful and hungry. He bore years of solitude and loneliness under his nails, all crashing down into one hug that was sure to be among others. You knew that he had missed years of feeling the closeness of intimacy, and truth be told, your situation was not much different. Those years, poisoned by fragments of shattered memories, had hardened you beyond reason. There would be one day when you were able to explain what had happened, but not even you were ready to face those recollections just yet. For now, your mind was occupied by his presence. 

Loki intertwined his fingers between yours, pushing your right shoulder out, and your arms stretched tautly but never severed the connection. The song that played was recognizable, some alteration of Pachabel's Canon in D that the piano took melody on. Your body floated through the notes, spiraling back into his hold once again, his arm enclosing you. His breath on the back of your neck pierced your skin, but before the chills had fully erupted, Loki lifted his arm that was still wrapped around you, forcing you into a frail spin.

When your chest collided with his, you bit the corner of your mouth, desperate to lean forward. The tension between you two was visible, and faster than you had intended, your lips pressed into his again. Heaven was either tellurian or somewhere tucked away in Asgard, and his hands on your hips confirmed that paradise could never be found at home. Not allowing yourself to dive too deep just yet, you pulled away, his head hesitating to follow your lips as he gazed at you. The longing in his eyes burrowed far into you, and you smiled, reaching up to take his jaw in your hands. How kind and loving he looked at you as if one glance could hold a thousand words, or though your fairytale had woven itself into the pages of real life.

"Can we just leave?" You said fervently. "I don't want to be here much longer."

He caught the pangs of longing in your stare and smirked in response. "Desire me all to yourself, hm?" 

"Don't be ridiculous," You groaned and sucked your teeth, trying to hide the blush from creeping onto your face. Even though you had feigned defensive, Loki had called you out, putting your thoughts that you hadn't even pieced together on a bold display. It wasn't that he was right...but he certainly wasn't incorrect either. The thought of having Loki alone was enticing, and he was the only one who could get you to admit it. 

Though you both had undoubtedly had enough of the gathering, Loki had mentioned Stark's makeshift "party guide" that kept you confined to the grounds until eight. Time had been swept by the rather eventful evening, but you were still an hour away from being dismissed. That meant more time striking conversations with sponsors...or worse, you thought, having to deal with the crew now that both of your feelings had been publicized. The floor had been mostly abandoned, save you and a few stray couples who mingled rather than danced. The sun had cast an amber hue over the furniture and faces, some portions of the room painted in a discolored brown as the stained glass windows mixed with the sun's natural vibrancy.

The hour had not taken as long as it felt, and you were grateful that Loki had taken control over most of the conversations. It must have been a miracle or at least inside-knowledge that he would be attending, as most patrons didn't bat an eye when giving his two cents on specific subjects. All the while, Loki would keep a protective hand around your waist, never breaking his concentration from his discourse. Several speeches were given in the final hour, mostly droning orations congratulating Tony on the proceeds raised. While the number had been shocking to hear at first, you pondered how much money could actually be spared from these people. The thought nauseated you, and you turned your head away from the lengthy addresses. Not ten minutes away from eight, Tony placed his cup down on the bar counter with a thud, leaning over and falling into a drunken giggle. Pepper was barely a foot away, attempting to pull him out of his seat with pursed lips. 

You nodded at him as his glass fell to the floor with a crash. "Wasn't he the one who told us not to get shitfaced? And I thought he told us they already did the speeches?"

"He did," Steve said, taking a swig of his beer from his spot at the table. "Everyone who's been at that podium has had a few. They're mainly Tony's buddies." 

"That explains it," You mumbled and took a sip of your wine. "Are we really the sober ones here? I know you can't get drunk, and no alcohol here that Thor and Loki have is gonna do a thing." 

Bruce scoffed. "You'd think the Avengers would be the real partiers, considering the whole 'saving the world' thing."

"One of us is, that's for sure," Natasha chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at a messy-looking Tony who was being led out the front exit, clinging to Pepper. "I guess we're gonna have to find our hotel rooms ourselves." 

"I think I can actually help with this," Peter muttered, focusing onto Tony and Pepper, who stumbled over themselves as they slipped through the hall's archway. Before you could figure out what was happening, Peter pressed a button tucked close to his wrist, and webbing shot out in a thin, almost transparent line from the opposite side of the table, weaving through the crowd. The spurt of webbing connected with a small manilla envelope in the back of Tony's pocket and stuck, snapping it backward and straight into Peter's hands. He smiled cheerfully as the table watched him, both shocked and impressed. 

"What...did you just do?" Sam questioned, his brow pressed in confusion. 

"Oh, right," Peter quickly went to work, opening the envelope he had stolen off of Tony and spilling its contents out onto the table. Eight pale blue cards slipped out of their yellow casing, each with its own number labeled on a gray stripe. "They're the keys. I think there's enough for each of us, but I'm not sure." 

"What about Tony and Pepper?" Steve questioned.

"Oh! Mr. Stark actually had his key around his neck, so I think these are all ours."

Steve nodded and bumped his eyebrows. "Nice work, kid," he said, trying to hide his surprise.

"That was really cool. Never do it again," Clint laughed and patted Peter on the shoulder. 

"If I may," Loki spoke, casting his glance down to the cards. He looked at everyone at the table, his look holding for a moment longer on you than the others. "There are eight keys and nine of us. Unless Stark had the intention of having two of us share a room, that leaves one odd man out." 

He was right. For the nine people who sat at the table, one of you would have to room together. The most reasonable option would have had the brothers stay together, but as the suggestion exited Thor's mouth and he was given a discouraging glare on Loki's part, the proposal fell short. 

Truthfully, the thought was inappropriate, and the idea of the team's possible reactions coursed through your mind. But even if...it wasn't the worst thing ever. "What if," you began. "Loki and I room?"  Though a few at the table shot wary looks your way, you weren't met with the strong discouragement as you expected. Loki was the only person to truly grasp the arrangement, whose eyes went wide. 

Steve was not one known to be protective in the nuances of life such as these. More often than not, you found Steve taking on a  'DYI'-dad role, using encouraging phrases to help guide others instead of demands. Appreciated most of the time, his suggestions were typically on track with their respective solutions, but as he eyed you from his spot at the table, something boiled in your gut. You knew the team's wary opinions of the god, and when Loki caught sight of the super-soldier's leer, he fought off a snarl. Though the man's following words were easy to predict, it did not stop them from bruising his ego. 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Steve said more as a statement than a question, avoiding eye contact with Loki. The tense silence spoke volumes. 

You pursed your lips, wanting to snap back at him. I think it's really rude that you would insinuate any wrongdoings, you wanted to say; that it was his job as the team leader to accept and work with everyone on the team, even if that meant it included something in their past. Loki had been on the team well before you had, so the notion that you would be unsafe was wildly offensive. Although, you could see where he came from. Steve was the one to see Loki in action all those years ago. While you were not afraid of his past and sins, you had no right to comment on how someone else felt about them, especially those who fought personally against his tyranny. There was no clear answer. 

You cleared your throat, interrupting a breath that Loki took to speak. "Respectfully," you said. "Loki and I have been on precisely thirty-two missions before, thirty-two of those missions being successful with minimal casualties," It would have been enough if you had left it there. Your point was proven, which was evident by Loki's triumphant and slightly presumptuous grin at Steve. Even so, there was an urge to express the accuracies of that statement and emphasize it, so it would show just how confident you were to Steve. "I would trust him with my life," you concluded, earning a surprised expression from most at the table.

Your face flushed under their stares, but most of them quickly returned to their own doings aside from Steve, Loki, and Natasha who sucked on her teeth to prevent a smile. Steve looked at you, appearing more ashamed than annoyed, catching you off guard. Despite Loki's cocky grin that he hastily threw, Steve nodded at him and then returned to you with a shameful expression. "You're right," he said. "You both are a crucial part of the team." 

"Just take off the 'big-brother' pants, okay? I know what I'm doing," You lowered your voice as to not embarrass him. Steve nodded and offered an apologetic smile which you returned sincerely.  

Even though Loki was humbled by your desire to assist him and make amends, it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had caused irreversible damages in his past. While he didn't mind being feared overall (and got a kick out of it often), he had come this far, and the concept of mistrust still being present created animosity. He imagined those years ago, standing atop the buildings in the same city he was in. Midgard's people had looked like ants from up there, at least until Tony Stark had smashed his skull through a building window. He chuckled. Good times. But things were different now that he had changed. He had protected a world he had once promised to conquer, protected people vowed to slaughter, and now he found himself only wanting to surmount one lone matter in this world. One lone person. It irritated him, the fact that his thoughts always returned to you. 

Loki sucked in a breath and pushed out his seat, using two fingers to slide over a key card from the pile. He eyed the card, then stood up, adjusting his tie. "On that note, I'll be making my exit," he announced. The rest of the table bid farewell to him and wished him a good night, which he nodded in return. When he was confident that most had gone back to either eating or idle chatter, he walked the perimeter of the table, stopping behind you and leaning down to whisper. 

"Would you like to accompany me to our suite?" he breathed. "Or do you have better plans?"  His hot breath shot chills down your collar. 

Biting your lip to fight off a grin, you followed Loki's example and stood from your chair, throwing the cloak over your shoulders. "I think I'm gonna head out too. Does anyone know what time the limo is leaving?" you asked in a small attempt to change the potential course of conversation.

"O-eight-hundred. Bright and early," Bucky said with a mouth full of sushi, pointing an accusatory chopstick at you. "And you two behave."

You laughed and rolled your eyes, hooking your fingers onto Loki's elbow crook. "Relax, Barnes," you huffed. "It'll be fine. Goodnight everyone," Once you had earned your responsive chorus of adieus, Loki turned and led you through the sea of tables and dancers and out into the brisk northeastern air. 

The hotel was further than you had first presumed, being a block down from the venue. The tinges of orange had long left the sky, replaced by black skies and illuminations of electronic billboards that changed images every few seconds. There were a few billboards like the one you had seen when you initially arrived, most of the pictures being of Steve or Tony, which made you chuckle. The action-hero stances or dramatic portraits always made them look more grave than they both were. Maybe not Steve; Steve perpetually looked as if someone poured water in his cereal. You pointed them out as Loki led you down the sidewalk in drastically gaudier clothes than each character who passed you by. 

The hotel was complicated to find, as every building in New York seemed to resemble the next. Decorated by colossal flags signs displaying the hotel's name you didn't attempt to pronounce, the entrance was less conspicuous than imagined. The only things that gave away the hotel's lucre were the bellhops, attendants, and guests who exited and entered nonchalantly. Each wore business suits, tuxes, or luxurious pelts. It was apparent why Tony chose a place like this. Part of you wondered if this would draw attention to the Avengers, and another part of you tried to forget that you'd be at risk wherever you went. You knew what you had gotten yourself into when you had joined, so the constant life-being-in-danger thing was essentially a norm. 

The hotel lobby was designed with an affluent-business aesthetic, adding on a couple of million dollars. Your heels clicked against the polished marble as you entered, a golden yellow cross-hatching with blue stripes in the center embellishing the design. Despite the amber-colored ceilings being a bit low, a crystal chandelier hung from its freshly wiped canopy. Several potted planted were tucked away in alcoves carved into the off-white walls, two ivory armchairs placed below them with a small coffee table in between. The ambiance was cozy, and a fireplace surrounded by several leather loveseats crackled on the far left wall of the room. 

As you checked in, a clerk with a black, coily coiffure spoke something into a walkie-talkie and returned to you with a smile. "Just making sure your respective bags get to your room. The elevator to your right will take you to the fourth floor. I understand that you have a party of...eleven?"

"I believe that's correct," Loki confirmed. 

"All the rooms are side by side and connected by the living rooms. You'll just have to open the door from both sides. Please don't hesitate to call if something's wonky. Enjoy your stay," the clerk said, sliding you a laminated list of numbers to call in every scenario possible. 

Loki took the list and tucked it into his jacket, looking down at you and giving a reassuring smile. "Are you alright?" He asked as he led you onto the elevator. He pressed a button, and the doors slid shut.

"Yeah," you took a deep breath. "Even on my missions, I don't think I've ever had to pretend to be someone this rich." 

Loki hummed. "You would have completed the mission regardless. I've visited lavatories classier than this."

"You're a prince from a different planet," you laughed.

He chuckled, "I'm well aware."

"It has to count for something," There was no point in not being honest with him. The hotel and the party were both grand gestures, but everything was becoming a bit much. "I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed," you confessed. "A lot happened tonight."

Loki tilted his head to look at you. His brow furrowed, then changed into something sympathetic. "Yes, it's been an eventful day."

The hotel room was easier to find than the hotel. A pop machine whirred to life as it dispensed a can for a mother and her daughter, and the girl giggled with glee. You and Loki moved past them and onto a secondary hallway. You found your door, allowing Loki to open the room with a swipe of his key card. He pushed the door in, and you followed close behind. As expected, your luggage had been tucked neatly into a coat closet adjacent to the front door, hangers wobbling haphazardly as you opened its door. Some of you wondered how or who got your clothing together and packed away, but when you thought about it too hard, you became grossed out and decided to find something else to focus on.  

About three feet away from the door, a table made of dark wood sat at waist level, a rectangular basket of fancy liquors, and a mirror hanging behind it. You watched in the mirror as Loki closed the door behind you, and you shrugged off your cloak to drape it from a hanger. The floor was carpeted a sandy shade, expanding into what you assumed to be a bedroom to your left. On the opposite side of the room, the carpet halted at a living room with tan leather sofas, a desk, and a boxy television. 

Loki chuckled as you stared at yourself in the mirror, stripping himself of his jacket and hanging it beside your cloak. He breathed in deeply and stepped up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist and interlocking his fingers on your stomach. The feeling made you jump slightly, but you relaxed into his hold. He rested his face in the crook of your neck as you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, inhaling the freshened air of the hotel room. 

"It's quiet," you muttered, picking up a tiny bottle of whiskey with the silhouette of a red lion on an orange label.

Loki inhaled and lifted his chin, placing it gently on your shoulder. "I never pegged you as a whiskey person." 

"I'm not," you validated. Turning the bottle over in your fingers, you hummed and set it down. "I've never actually had the chance to try it. Or wanted to. One or the other." 

"I personally don't care for it much. Asgardian mead remains the nine realms most exquisite of spirits," Loki countered. He remained, standing with his skin pressed into yours. The mirror held the actualities of your own single universe, albeit small ones. Seeing the reflection of your body pushed against his own was something out of a story, and for a moment, he prayed to Odin that his visions hadn't been incorrect. The softness of your skin was unparalleled, he noted, taking a hand to drag against your outer upper arm. You shivered, making him smile into your neck. You smelled as though rich wine and amber and pear had clashed into one collaborative fragrance, a warm scent that reminded him of the gardens on Asgard. It was charming, to say the least.  "Would you like to take a moment to freshen up, darling?" He asked mainly out of courtesy.  

You hummed in thought, bumping your eyebrows with an appreciative smile. "Maybe in a few. I think I just want to get into comfy clothes." 

"That can be arranged," Loki said, taking the hand that had been dragging along your arm and flicking his fingers upwards. A fizzy green light bubbled at your feet, shrouding the two pairs of legs in chartreuse clouds that formed and rolled up your body. You fell a little flat as the heels you wore faded away, replaced with soft grey slippers that covered everything but your Achilles heel. You noticed that Loki's sophisticated dress shoes had also been transformed into black socks as the mist climbed higher. The magic passed over your torso and chest, momentarily blocking your view from the mirror. 

When the magic subsided, the tight feeling of your dress melted away into soft cotton that hugged your hips and shoulders. Loki had replaced your outfit with a black t-shirt that fell loose and a pair of plaid green and blue pajama pants that cuffed at your ankle. His outfit had changed as well; his suit morphed into a grey sweatshirt and black track pants. It was a peculiar look, seeing you both in such casual outfits, but it warmed something in your heart. You smiled, taking your hand and holding the side of his cheek, watching his expressions in the mirror. He smiled.

"You always did look better in green," he teased, pushing himself off of you to turn you around to face him. "I do wonder how you would look in Asgardian leather." 

You blushed at the mention of it and pushed at his chest. Despite the quip, you released a breathy laugh, "I think it would probably suit you better than me."

"Eheh," he laughed, placing a flat palm on your upper back to pull you closer. "Don't undersell yourself, dear. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that you would look ravishing, no matter the clothing you choose to wear," he said, rubbing a thumb along your cheek. "Or don't," he added with a smirk. 

You threw your head back and groaned, allowing his arms to support your weight. "I don't want you to keep thinking you can get away with that kind of stuff," you grumbled. The position you found yourself in was oddly reminiscent of the ballroom dance you shared. That same dance he had tickled you to pieces and embarrassed you in front of everyone, of course, but it had-

Wait. 

"Are you going to do anything to stop MEHE-" Loki immediately unhooked his arms from around your body as you skittered your fingers up his stomach. He stepped backward, expecting you to let go, but you followed his movements, and he stumbled against the wall. He sucked in his giggles and clasped your wrists in his hands, looking aghast. "I must warn you, love - you are not making a wise series of choices."

"I think you lied to me, Loki," you laughed in astonishment. You knew your hunch about Loki faking had been correct, or he at least was doing an impressive job at holding in his reactions at the party.

After readjusting his posture, he gripped your wrists tighter and jerked you close to him. You yelped, falling against his chest. With your fists and elbows tucked between his and your bodies, he growled a low chuckle into your ear, earning a snicker from you. As much as you wanted to push your head down, Loki simply didn't allow it. "I think you are walking on thin ice, pet," he whispered. "Do what you will. But I swear everything you do will be returned tenfold." 

You paused, taking a second to lean back and study his features. This was Loki we were talking about, and you had not only tickled him once today (or attempted), but now twice, and were expecting to get off the hook. Something as flirty and as torturous as tickling was indeed not below the trickster god. He stared deep into your eyes, deadly serious. When you didn't respond in time, Loki's threatening look softened. "No? Then let's begin," he said, smirking. 

Before you could ask what he was talking about, you felt something soft coil around your ankle, wrapping around and up your leg to mid-calf.  Your instincts forced out a scream and kick before you even had seen what it was, but when you looked down and saw a rolled-up bed sheet tied around your foot, you became confused. The corded sheet trailed in from the bedroom, disappearing behind the wall where you assumed the bed was. The only thing visible in the bedroom was a flat-screen television against the same wall as the door.  The confusion only lasted so long, as any thought was whisked from your head when the sheet tightened and yanked, throwing your weight to the floor. You screamed and fell with a thud as the long line of linen dragged you into the bedroom. 

Having been in a similar situation like this (Bali was probably the roughest mission thus far), you were able to get your bearings quickly. You used the momentum of the turn to flip onto your back, crunching up and reaching out to unhook the wrap. Before you could do much work, the direction of the pull changed, and you were hoisted suddenly into the air, your free leg bent at an awkward angle. With a heavy breath, you craned your neck to look at what held you. 

The sheet that rippled with green magic had been rolled tight, but you were able to see the unmade bed it originated from. There was a sofa black leather sofa that you had been dangled above, a coffee table and armchair a few feet away. If you fell, you were in for a soft landing, and seeing Loki's magic calmed your nerves a bit. It wouldn't have necessarily been a surprise if a rogue villain decided to literally crash the party or invade your hotel room; it wasn't the first to happen either way. Even so, the sneer that Loki held as he strolled into the room with his fingers laced behind his back did little to slow your pulse. 

"Stuck, are we?" He said, bumping his brow and looking down, the smirk never leaving his face. He stepped closer, and you thanked fate that the dragging had caused your shirt to catch under the elastic in your pants, keeping your midsection clothed. 

"Loki, put me down right now!" you scolded, but a few giggles slipped through your scowl. 

Loki tutted and strolled over to you, scanning your upsidedown body. You knew that Loki would never and has never done anything to hurt you, but despite that fact, you felt exposed. Gravity worked against you, making every movement intentional, forced, and tiresome. Dangling three feet off the floor by one leg would be easy for someone to get out of if they held a strong core, but getting out of it with your captor standing less than a foot away presented another obstacle. If he had made you fall, falling on a couch was undoubtedly better than landing on a hard floor.  However, Loki stayed still, watching your struggling form attempt to crunch to unwind the cloth from your leg. Gripping your pant leg, you opted to ignore him for the time being. You walked your hands up your leg, using it to sturdy yourself as you reached up and climbed the length of your body. 

Just as your fingertips grazed the hem of the sheet, the cloth rippled against your ankle, alive with bright green sparks. It slackened, and you felt a startling induction of gravity, but you were caught and snapped back down to your starting posture. You gasped and yelped as the sheet hoisted you higher. 

"Unfortunately for you," he stepped up to you, his shoulders slightly lower than parallel to your hips. Tantalizingly slow, he dragged two relaxed fingers against an exposed sliver of skin on your lower stomach. You shuddered a gasp and reached up to grab at him, but he had pulled away too quick. "I don't have any plans on releasing you any time soon."

"What are you talking ABOHOUT?!" If there was reason for trying to hold back your laughter, it was startled off by the boisterous laughter that erupted through the room as Loki set to work scratching at your stomach. His fingers danced around your navel, flitting down (or up, by your perspective) to flutter around your sternum. Giggles now pouring freely, your biceps already began to ache with the effort of swatting away his hands. Your mirth became frantic as the realization of just how much power he had over you sank into your spine. In a desperate reach to control what you could, you grabbed at his shirt and clutched at it. Loki mistook your grappling as an attack of your own, and he coughed out several short chuckles but caught your flailing wrists and held them in one fist. 

"Ohoho, poor choice after poor choice tonight," he looked incredulously at you.

The minute amount of protection your arms provided had been stolen from you in a blink of an eye. You choked out some giggles and felt your elevated pulse beneath his fingers, and you wondered if he could feel it too. Yet your laughing hadn't stopped. Although it was an exploitive and intense feeling, you didn't mind being tickled. You could feel the power beneath his palms, but his touch revealed something more genuine - more affectionate than spiteful. His hands grazed over your skin, and you wanted to drink in the feeling of his skin against you, but the tickling made that incredibly difficult. When his fingers tripped to a different spot and your energy spiked, his tongue would peak out between his teeth as he tried not to laugh along with you. One of those spots was an area of your upper ribs, right below the hollows of your armpit. Your giggles hitched, and you jerked away from him. He tapped the tip of his pointer nail against the sensitive skin gingerly, taking enjoyment in your desperation. 

"This ihisn't even fahahair!" you whined. "What I did wasn't nearly as bad as what you're doing!" 

"I did say that I would return your actions tenfold, did I not?" 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Then you understand that while I may not commonly be a man of my word, when it comes to making things fair, I care very deeply," he hummed, gripping your wrists tighter as he traced to the soft spot of your underarm. Your mind was fuzzy from the ticklish shocks slamming through your nerves, but his teasing did nothing for your aid. You pulled and yanked, but your strength against his was a game you were destined to lose. "If that means I must teach you a lesson about the natural consequences of your actions, so be it. Would you like me to list out the reasons for your discipline?" 

"NahahaHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO!" you bellowed when he switched to vibrating his fingers under your exposed arms. He nudged the hem of your sleeve to the side, allowing his top digits to slip beneath the cover of your shirt and onto bare skin. 

"Does it not bother you that your enemies could unravel you by something as simple as this?" He pinched his hand up to your hips, and you cackled, struggling against your restraints. Though Loki wasn't one for mercy, his heart fluttered when he saw a happy tear escape from the apple of your cheek.

He also noted how red your face turned and recalled that humans didn't have the blood circulation strength required to be held at different gravities for extended periods. Without releasing your wrists, Loki commanded the sheet to set your back down against the couch, your head and shoulders touching down first, followed by the rest of your torso. The couches cooled leather startled you at first but swiftly came as a relief as your headrush began to fade away. You sucked in some greedy breaths and gradually opened your eyes before realizing that your one leg was still held in the air. Using his one free hand, he scratched delicately along the back of your knee. 

"KAHAHAHA, SHIHIHIT! Leheave mehehehe aloHONE!" Your free-hanging foot landed against the arm of the couch, pushing your hips up in pure instinct or to gain an ounce of leverage. It did nothing. 

"You are quite resilient, I must say. Then again, it could also just be that...you're enjoying this," Loki remarked, and you felt his thumb twitch against the bone of your wrist. 

Distracted by Loki's tickling fingers, the soft cotton that slid against the bottom of your sole was almost too faint to feel. That is... until it became more intentional. The first few flicks of the magic-bound sheets were nearly as mistakable as an accident, but when your eyes caught the glowing green light shifting around your toes and arch, your heart rate hitched, and your laugh took on a wheeze. The hemming of the sheet was significantly stiffer than the rest of the fabric, and feeling it scratch against your foot was practically unbearable. You kicked out and attempted to sit up, but your antics had sapped most of the energy from your body. 

"PLEHEHEASE! I AHAHAM NAHAHAHAT!" 

Loki scoffed with a heavy eye roll. There were things that Loki was, but a fool was not among those qualities. You were not one to hide your affection for those around you, a characteristic that made you all the more endearing. He had seen you push, play, and intentionally annoy the other Avengers into rough-housing, and they had always played along, happy to make a sturdy source of their joy content as well. Loki had not been kept a victim of your antics, and you were not below purposefully seeking him out to pester. "I'm just supposed to believe that?" 

"Yehehehes! This is torturhure," You chortled, which was a half-truth. 

"Fascinating," Loki leaned forward on the couch, looming over your frame. The angle of your trapped leg caused your hips to elevate off the sofa, your foot planted on the arm for support. To avoid hurting you, Loki made sure to press his weight into the upper part of your torso instead of the lower part to prevent any uncomfortable pull. Who would have thought he'd take care in the comfort of his own captive? Would Asgard crumble at the mere sight of its trickster haven fallen at the hands of something so ordinary? Could all evil not be subdued by the touch of one it loves? Perhaps it was possible. "And yet you've not once requested me to stop," Loki purred, bringing your hands up above your head though you thrashed and struggled and spewed with nervous tittering.

Your stomach dropped and swarmed with abashment. Saying that it was torture wouldn't have counted, nor the halfassed pleas you offered amongst your frenzy. Although Loki had made that a point, both his hands and cursed cloth slowed.

The sweat shinner across your brow, the way your chest heaved and retracted against the bunched-up fabric of the clothes he had conjured onto your beautiful skin; there was nothing to you Loki didn't adore. You were trust, warmth, acceptance, something that was all too rare. He smiled down at your goofy and exhausted grin, finally ending his reign over the bedsheets and lowering your body fully onto the sofa. The sheet draped loosely around your ankle as if it had been the remnants of morning or perhaps a mid-afternoon nap. The wild state of your clothing and hair suggested as much, if not something more suggestive. Love and affection were strange. Not foreign, but peculiar. Loki had not realized that falling in love could physically be felt in the chest, like magnetism that would prayerfully result in his arms embracing you. 

In a crowded room, his eyes fell heavy onto you. The way when you spoke, your words almost fell too quickly out of your mouth. Your skill as an agent, your sharp wit, your humor - Loki's thoughts fell onto his mother's face, and how desperately he wished he could bring you home to Asgard to show her what - who - he had won. And yet, you were more than just a prize. You were more than just the exterior shell of the hardened agent you had to become. You were you. That was enough. 

There were many parts that of you that Loki had yet to explore. Natasha's words and advice rang in the back of his head, but he knew that they came from a place of protectiveness for you. There were so many possibilities to who you were, what had happened, where you even came from. Midgard was large, Asgard immense, the cosmos enormous. With each individual came a story, and the stories he had heard throughout his years put lead in his stomach. The Avengers were not known for cheery origins, that was evident enough. While he craved to know what fueled your drives, he was unwilling to push past what you were acquiescent to share.  

"I don't hate it," You mumbled, snatching Loki from his thoughts. A deep blush dusted your cheeks, and you turned your head to the side, tugging on your wrists (which Loki yielded) and covering your face. "If anyone is doing it, I'd rather it be you."

Once again, the familiar tug of Loki's heart blossomed in his chest. He felt his jaw square but did nothing to stop it, allowing his face to bear emotions he had concealed for what felt to be ages. You reached up to him, taking his jaw in your hands. His chin was stiff beneath your sliding thumb, his skin smooth and unblemished, save for smile lines that had etched themselves to the sides of his nose. 

"What are you thinking about?" You asked. 

Loki's hand mimicked your gentle hold on his face, caressing the apples of your cheek. "I...have done things. Some unspeakable," he admitted, searching for something in your face. 

"Things I already know about."

"Yes," his voice faded. Years of suffering, loneliness, and pain strong enough to shake ground shadowed his face. "Is this right? You don't feel...coerced." 

"No," you shook your head just enough so he could see beneath the dark of the room. "Don't focus on the past anymore. We're here. We're now. We've all done things we hate. All of us," you paused, the faded glow of a taxi's headlights passing over his features. "I...just want to be with you."

"I'm here," Loki rustled, leaning down to your lips. 

In the story that Loki had told in his fruit-drunk stupor, he had spoken of a world painted with crimson and gold. The air tasted like bourbon, and the crowds pulsed with energy as musicians cheered in their corners. Among the throng of people had been a girl, dancing by herself in the middle of a busy floor, her dress bright and how its ruby pigment stole eyes from onlookers. She twirled and laughed, holding the skirt down with her hands. Loki had not told his companions about his visions afterward and instead let them begin their own fables, but Loki had seen more than just that girl. He had seen her take his hand and lead him into a dance. He had seen the sparkle of solar systems in her eyes and stars glittering in her pupils. He had tasted the tang of wine at your tongue, and now as he sat with you in intense reality and made quick work of his hands, the memory of his fantasy had reached its end. 

His tongue now tasted the perspiration he had caused personally, kissing and nipping at your neck, your collar, your stomach, your hips, your thighs...

With a look supplicating permission, a shy nod, and a smirk that made your knees shake, you once again found yourself trembling beneath the hands of the trickster god. 

[harrowharkboygf]

rating the locked tomb characters by how good their met gala outfits would be

gideon nav

we can surmise from the “rapier with skulls puking other skulls” quote that gideon’s personal style, if she wasn’t beholden to the ninth house dress code, would be Loud and Tacky and A Lot. therefore, i think she’ll go all out with the theme. her outfit might not look objectively good per se — it will probably be a little too excessive and not super classy — but she will absolutely fulfill the theme and she will have fun, and that’s the most important part! 9/10

harrowhark nonagesimus

oh harrow will go all in on this. she will definitely be of the opinion that all guests should have to submit an essay explaining exactly how their outfit fits the theme, and she absolutely will get annoyed at the people who just wore simple black tuxes and dresses. she‘ll start planning her outfit months in advance, and it’s going to be incredibly complicated and very symbolic. her outfit is probably be a lot creepier and more goth than the rest of the guests, but it’ll still go perfectly with the theme anyways. 10/10

ortus nigenad

how much effort ortus puts into his outfit will depend SOLELY on what the theme was. if he thinks it’s a stupid theme he’ll put in zero energy whatsoever, and if he thinks it’s a good theme he will put in the work and come out with an outfit that’s definitely creative, even if it doesn’t look super great and is a little bit of a stretch on the theme. 7/10

judith deuteros

judith definitely does not care. she does not care at all, and if you asked her what the theme was, she couldn’t even tell you. she wears a simple black tux or black dress every year, and yes she looks hot as fuck and very classy and all of the gay girls on twitter go wild over it, but it’s not particularly creative or befitting of the theme. 3/10

marta dyas

marta cares a lot more than judith does, but she still focuses more on the event itself than the outfit; she’s more excited to dance, talk with her friends and acquaintances, and see other people’s outfits. if the met gala didn’t have a theme, she’d still be happy, but since it does, she’ll try to fit the theme as best she can! she refuses to sacrifice her own comfort or ability to dance in favor of an outfit though, which is very fair of her. no matter what, though, she looks good! 6/10

coronabeth tridentarius

oh you KNOW corona is acing this. she starts planning for her outfit a year in advance, but unlike harrow, she’s way less pretentious about it and willing to do something that might make fun of herself a little or make others laugh. she makes sure to call everyone she knows who’s going to make sure that their outfits won’t be too similar. she also makes sure that ianthe and babs’ outfits go good with hers. it’s the bane of her existence that judith won’t go to the lengths that she does. she fits the theme perfectly, she’s creative about it, and she looks hot as fuck. 100/10

ianthe tridentarius

as mentioned above, ianthe’s outfit is always designed to fit with coronabeth’s. it’s always very similar — not quite the same, but very close. same idea, slightly different execution. it’s always fitting with the theme, and looks really good objectively, but there’s a lack of investment and heart that ruins it a bit, especially next to corona’s extravaganza. still, when she’s next to the other guests, she definitely wins. 8/10

naberius tern

babs cares WAY more about looking good than he does about fitting the theme. his outfit is always a lot less creative than and themed than ianthe’s and corona’s. he never sidesteps the theme entirely, but he often refuses to go all the way in favor of not looking too weird. this is kind of a moot point, since he always looks a little weird anyway. 5.5/10

isaac tettares & jeannemary chatur

the awful teens were coordinating outfits each year, and each year they desperately want to fit the theme and do something cool, but they’re a little TOO eager about it. there’s always either a little bit too much going on with their outfits for the message to be fully cohesive, OR they didn’t go all the way because they were too embarrassed to do so. however, they definitely try their best and that’s what matters! 7.5/10

abigail pent & magnus quinn

abigail and magnus treat the met gala like a halloween party. they’re committed to the theme, but not in the militant, obsessive way that harrow and coronabeth are — it’s more that they have fun planning their coordinating outfits because costumes are fun! often their take on the theme is very nerdy and sweet, but maybe not super well done. still, they compliment everyone on their outfits and are so genuine about it that they get points anyway. 7/10

palamedes sextus

pal could honestly care less about the met gala, but he attends anyway and spends the whole night deep in conversation with anyone who will talk science with him. as such, his outfit is. Very Lacking. cam usually designs it for him and it fits the theme pretty well and looks objectively good, but he gets points off for not coming up with it himself. 5/10

camilla hect

pal and cam don’t wear coordinated outfits, but they are still somewhat cohesive, as cam plans them both. camilla’s outfit is definitely much better than palamedes’ is — it fits the theme and is more creative and she just generally looks hotter. however, she’s not putting the same level of energy most of the people listed above. but it’s fun, it looks good, and she passes the test. 7/10

dulcinea septimus

dulcie’s attitude towards the met gala would be very similar to magnus and abigail’s in that she treats it like a fun opportunity rather than a life-or-death situation, but she definitely leans more “tasteful” over magnus and abigail’s typical style of “dorky”. she follows the theme closely and she looks good! 8/10

protesilaus ebdoma

pro always goes with dulcie, and he just dresses in an outfit that she’s planned to be coordinated with hers. he’s a little bemused at the intensity of some of the others, but he goes along with the whole thing because it makes dulcie happy. points off for not coming up with his own idea, points added for looking very dashing regardless. ortus is fuming at how well-put-together his outfit is. 5/10

silas octakiseron

silas shares the same all-or-nothing attitude that ortus has towards the theme, but when he approves of the theme, his execution comes very close to beating out harrow’s outfit in terms of Drama and Sophistication. his outfits are often a little impractical — they’re hard to walk in or require elaborate props to be transported alongside him — but they’re worth it. 9/10

colum asht

colum just wears a suit the same color as whatever silas’ outfit is that year. boring! 2/10

augustine the first

augustine tries his hardest, but he never quite nails the theme. somehow, it always goes straight over his head, so when he explains it to people, they’re always like “*confused head tilt* hmmm, okay now i think i get it! huh!” he looks,,, fine in it, and he tries. he tries! 4/10

mercymorn the first

mercy’s sense of style in general is very good, so she always comes in a dress that’s fashionable and well-designed. the problem is that she actively abhors the idea of a themed party; she actively campaigns to the organizers each year to not do a theme. she thinks that everyone who does the theme is ridiculous. as such, she ends up with a low 3/10

cytherea the first

cytherea has a good Idea for the met gala every year, but for some reason — she bites off more than she can chew or she fails to accurately articulate her vision or she procrastinates until the last minute — that idea never translates into an actual outfit, so she always falls back on a simple, soft clinging dress. fashionable, but unfortunately not very standout-ish. 3.5/10

gideon the first

gideon (original flavor) just wears a boring black suit every year. THE most boring black suit ever. 1/10

pyrrha dve

okay, admittedly we haven’t seen that much of pyrrha in canon, but from what we do know, she is smart and talented and funny and good at everything and has a dramatic streak and is incredibly hot. therefore, i think we can surmise that she’ll absolutely nail her met gala outfit. it’ll fit the theme, it’ll be very original and very well-done, and she’ll be sexy as fuck! good for her! 15/10

john gaius

he wears the exact same black tux every year. the same one. he pays no attention to the theme whatsoever. this is very confusing, since HE is the one who organizes the met gala and picks the theme! weirdo! even worse, john makes a point to give backhanded compliments to people he thinks don’t fit the theme or don’t look good. bitch! -10/10