#tag yourself i'm boris

[djevelbl]

Kill the cringe cop in your head, do what makes you happy.

[bite-the-bloody-hand]

6 SONG SOUNDTRACK

PART 2 - INTERNATIONAL POST-PUNK/GOTHROCK

If part 1 was the glitter-soaked psychedelic fantasy film produced by Creature Shop circa 1981, Part 2 is our early 2000s experimental grunge goth tragicomic vampire flick doomed to the wal-mart bargain bin until it gets rediscovered in 2036 and has a huge fandom renaissance. Decided to separate this into its own post for archival reasons (and to make edits/additions easier to track.)

Thanks again to @chaosteddybear for the original tag! I won't be tagging anyone in these subsequent entries, since they're bonus material. However if you see this and want to try it yourself, tag me when you do so I can lay ear on your tunes!

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End Credits song

Spotify || Youtube Music || lyrics with English translations linked in song titles

PLUSMINUSNULA - Ob​č​as*

'Sometimes It seems to me That I'm a stranger in my home Sometimes It seems to me That I'm a king with his head in the guillotine'

Trapped in a city meant to be the bastion of civilization against the monster-infested wasteland, Zell found far worse monsters with him inside the walls. There was no reason to stay, no reason to take the inheritance of his father's damnable legacy.

IAMX - Sorrow

'My northern heart weighs like a stone And the burning sadness has become my home The tortured world wants Me to hate But there’s A world inside Where my love can bury my rage'

He's hurting, aimless, longing for a home;

NIN - The Hand That Feeds **

'What if this whole Crusade's a Charade and behind there's all a price to be paid for the blood on which we dine justified in the name of the holy divine Just how deep do you believe? Will you bite the hand that feeds?'

Pressed into service to a God he doesn't follow and a campaign his heart cannot support;

BUCK-TICK - KODO (HEARTBEAT)

'I don’t know why I’m living, but even so, I think I want to live passionately, if I’m loved I’m sorry, thank you'

And he's so terribly sorry for being him, but if this is all he is, he's grateful for any love at all;

BORIS & SUN O))) - Blood Swamp [instrumental]***

And he will hunt you, hunt you, restless and persistent;

BARONESS - Tourniquet

'I've got an artificial heart It beats but I can't feel a thing It's an unofficial part It bleeds but I'm already gone'

Until he is finally allowed to rest.

*I wanted to get tracks from both Czechia and Mongolia since those are the closest real-world equivalents to where he's from, but sadly I couldn't find any Mongolian goth or post-punk that fit. ALWAYS open for suggestions tho

**the 'outsider' track for this set. Initially I didn't want to lean on any artists that were too well known, but I had to include Bite the Hand because it fits thematically and, well. It inspired the name of the blog. Teehee

***Does anyone else remember SINISTER? Man that was a weird flick. Well shot though.

[penguinwhowanttobeanartist]

Hello..! I am a regular follower of the blog askpabit, who has answered one of your asks recently. I believe you asked (Как я поняла, Борис на самом деле русский... Ты тоже говоришь по-русски? Х) -- for which the translation comes as (As I understand it, Boris is actually Russian... Do you speak Russian too? X) ) -- and then Pabit has answered you with an image as well as tags on it in Russian. Since you understand the language, can I please request a translation from yourself of the image and tags? I'm curious to know what Pabit has said...!

Oh, hi!

I don’t know what they wanted to tell me, since the “#” is written in Russian with grammatical errors. But I think it says, “I don’t like to speak Russian, but I’ll do it for you.” I'll ask him if I upset the author. I worry…

[smileymoth]

@pikslasrce tagged me to post my top albums from this year :))

senses fail - still searching // armor for sleep - what to do when you are dead // senses fail -let it enfold you hollywood undead - hotel kalifornia // boysnightout - make yourself sick // wilbur soot - your city gave me asthma alesana - the emptiness // bedwetters - meet the f@cking bedwetters // bring me the horizon - sempiternal

do not ask me how many times i've listened to these 9 albums idon't even know myself. it's way too much though. i couldn't put all 4 boysnightout albums here so i just stayed at 1 and put it in the very middle because they altered my brain chemistry <33

senses fail gets 2 albums because i didnt spend weeks only listening to those 2 albums for no reason... their lyrics mean sm to me i want to illustrate the albums or songs one day. this goes for both senses fail and boysnightout btw. AND armor for sleep. there's something about that specific album. i realised i really enjoy albums that tell a story. and the fact that i like themes of angst love blood betrayal etc etc is no surprise either. car underwater got played way too many times

i discovered bedwetters thanks to eurovision, they were one of the options for estonia and i ofc found their old and only album (they released a new one a few weeks ago tho) (i dont know why they have 2 spotify accounts. im not asking). i even got to see them live bc they gave a free concert during summer <33333333 i got a picture with the band too !!!!! so cool

the new hollywood undead album got me back into them so im back to being obsessed. i love my silly california guys :3 i've been keeping up with them since and i desperately need to draw them again, this time without their masks!!!! im very glad that i found alesana to be sooo palatable this year because ive tried to listen to them before when i was a teenager and it just... didn't click, even if i tired. so yeah i get to fix that mistake now.

in spring i had a moment where i listened to sempiternal on repeat on the cd player for multiple days straight and in the past month i've, again, been listening to bmth and specifically sempiternal again so it gets a special place, too.

wilbur is just there because i had jubilee line stuck in my head so so so so much and also it's the best study music ever. also wilbur why is i'm sorry boris so silent. i can barely hear it it makes me angry so i always skip it. and then bc its the end of the album it gives me some lmanburg flag cover-art song that i don't like

anyway here's a special mention to these 3 albums because 1) greeley estates - caveat emptor, i just discovered it this week and i am in love. also greeley estates has been in my radar for quite some time now and i find the singers voice to be very pleasant and interesting? the tone does sth for me 2) brand new - deja entendu, for being stuck in my head for a good week because the tommy gun song wouldn't leave my head since it came on shuffle from my saved mp3 list when net was down 3) just surrender - if these streets could talk, because again i was obsessing over this for like a good week before i forgot about it. good album. not available in serbia tho for some reason

can you tell i love talking about music that i like. i know nothing about music it just makes me happy. :)

anyway i am tagging uhhhh @varteeny1234 and @complicatedsurgery and uhhh @cactusringed and uhhhh anyone else who wants + i'm not gona tag you, sly, because you only listen to alex g anyway <3

[goodoldcharley]

Thanks for the tag @illiana-mystery

Tea, Coffee, or Soda?

Coffee ☕️

Dogs or Cats?

Unfortunately I am allergic against both... but I do love birds 🦜

Can you play an instrument?

I used to torture play the piano

Sun Sign:

Aquarius 🧜🏼‍♂️

First song lyrics that pops into your head:

Hallelujah! Temptation is here! It's not a dream anymore... (Brother John - Chris de Burgh)

Any tattoos: Nope

Favorite place you've traveled:

London and Venice

What's the last movie you've watched?

Identity

I am trying to catch up with Alfred's other movies one by one but man, I am slow...

What languages do you speak?

German (native tongue), English, Latin and a bit Italian

Hobbies:

Hiking / exploring nature, gameing, reading

You can hang out with one fictional character for a day. Who do you choose?

Oh, this is hard... While I'd love to hang out with Doc Ock or Maxim Horvath they'd probably rip my head off long before lunch... so maybe Boris Plots? He could teach me how to dance (I'm horrible at it)... or Armand Gamache? 🤗

Compliment yourself!

Uhm... Well done, I guess... (I am not really good at complimenting myself) 😅

Bonus Question: How many OC's do you have?

I have only recently come back to writing so there aren't that many OCs. Only two to be honest. An unnamed rookie of the Sûreté du Québec and a self insert spidersona from my drawings. But I am sure there'll be more in time...

I tag @gmache and @businesscalamity

Maybe you two are up to answer these questions. You don't have to of course 😄

[cozy-the-overlord]

I posted 1,373 times in 2022

391 posts created (28%)

982 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cozy-the-overlord

@naterson

@gaitwae

@lokislittlesigyn

@elly-hiddlesherloki

I tagged 1,298 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#cozy reblog - 785 posts

#thanks for the ask :) - 167 posts

#writing things - 111 posts

#cozy writes - 108 posts

#taylor swift - 102 posts

#self reblog - 100 posts

#friends - 94 posts

#ask me things pls i'm bored - 86 posts

#loki marvel - 74 posts

#loki fanfic - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#wasn’t going to reblog but then i read ‘now that larry looks to be on the horizon of replacing boris johnson as prime minister’ 😂😂😂😂😂

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Burning the Midnight Oil

Summary: You’re alone and miserable, up far too late losing your mind over an essay that isn’t even due tomorrow when Loki pops in with flowers.

Word Count: 1,858

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So this is a reader fic, but also the reader is literally just me. I usually don’t like writing super obviously personal self-indulgent fluff, but I’ve had an incredibly shitty week and just ended up writing this in my notebook yesterday. This isn’t really edited, and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense (like ... don’t question how Loki ended up dating a random college student), but it was therapeutic to write and I figured I might as well post it. Also, the line Loki reads aloud is from Sonnet 29, a poem that has absolutely nothing to do thematically with this story, but it’s my favorite sonnet and I wanted Loki to read it to me so don’t judge.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Implied depression

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Your back hurts.

Everything hurts, actually. These dorm-issued chairs are not designed with long-term comfort in mind, and you’ve been sitting here hunched at your desk for a while now, several hours at least. There had still been light streaming through your weather-beaten blinds when you first sat down to work, but the sun had long since faded beneath the horizon—in fact, if your roommate had been here, she probably would have asked you a while ago in her soft, amiable manner if it was okay if she turned off the big ceiling light, her polite way of telling you to get the fuck off your laptop and go to bed. But your roommate isn’t here—she’s staying over at her asshole damned-lucky-to-have-her boyfriend’s apartment, a last-minute decision that left you alone and unsupervised for the night.

You’re fine though. It’s good to have time to yourself. Hell, there was a time where the prospect of a night of solitude would send you jumping for joy. It’s just … well, you have a tendency of turning a vacant room into an echo chamber to your thoughts, and these days your thoughts haven’t exactly been the kind of thing you enjoy being alone with.

It doesn’t matter. Tonight, you’re fine—you have a distraction. This essay isn’t due until Friday, but you’ve determined to finish it tonight, and now you can’t go to bed until the final period has been typed. It’s a messy business, essay writing. All night, you’ve known nothing but the relentless back and forth between the brilliant spark of a fresh idea that leaves you feeling like a genius and the all-consuming urge to bash your laptop against the wall over and over and over again before you allow your professor to lay her eyes on the wretched piece. At the moment, you’re beginning to stumble back into the latter, but you force yourself to swallow your self-contempt and keep going. It doesn’t matter how awful it is, just that it’s finished. Then you can lie on your heating pad and fall asleep to the sound of a YouTube art video you’ve watched a million times before.

“What are you still doing up?”

You jump at the question, nearly knocking your computer from its precarious position perched on the edge of your desk. Loki reaches around you to steady it with one hand—the other is supporting a vase the size of your head blooming with vibrant daffodils.

“Forgive me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You let out a breath that’s shakier than you intended. One would think that after nearly a year of dating a literal magic extraterrestrial man of myth, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at his habit of just … appearing, but there are still times when it makes your heart race.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop these off. I saw them earlier, and I know you said they were your favorite …” He trails off, motioning to the daffodils as he sets the vase on your desk. You inhale. He’s right—they are your favorites, and you find yourself smiling at the playful yellow buds, basking in a kind of warmth you’ve been lacking.

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Loki chuckles, somewhat sheepishly. “I had meant them as a surprise for when you awakened in the morning. I assumed you would have been asleep by now. What are you still doing up?”

“Oh.” The headache previously flushed away by the flowers returns. You gesture vaguely at your computer screen. “Essay.”

“Ah.” He nods, scanning the document over your shoulder. “Have you been working on this all night? You must be exhausted.”

“Eh.” You shrug, trying and failing to crack an easy grin. “I’m alright.” You don’t need to look at him to feel the concern in his gaze.

But to your relief, he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he moves to rub your shoulders, a gentle massage that you didn’t realize you had been fantasizing about. You let out a sigh, leaning back in the Chair of Agony and melting into his touch.

“May I ask what the topic is?”

“Oh.” You inhale. “Well, it’s about socially constructed gender roles in The Convent of Pleasure. Like, how they’re so pervasive that even characters actively attempting to break free of them struggle to separate what is truly natural and what society has deemed to be natural. And, you know, how that’s still a thing in today’s society.”

You’re talking too much. You know it, even as you sit there rattling off your thesis. But Loki sounds genuinely intrigued

“That’s fascinating.”

See the full post

104 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

#4

Taking Notes

Summary: You need a whiteboard. Loki offers to be of assistance.

Word Count: 1,926

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This spawned when I was obsessively outlining my creative writing honors thesis and complaining that I needed a whiteboard, and @naterson jokingly suggested I write on Loki. This is very silly and ridiculous and not particularly good, but I finished it so I figured I might as well post it. I pictured this reader being the same as that in Burning The Midnight Oil, but this isn't a sequel or anything-- you don't need to read that to understand this.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Shirtlessness? Loki is shirtless for most of this, but it’s all very silly and innocent-- nothing sexual

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“Okay,” you say, and bite your lip. The marker is thinner than you expected it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from anxiously clicking the cap on and off and on and off again, the snapping noise blending into the backdrop of your notes-strewn dorm as you study your … canvas. “Are you ready?”

You can’t see Loki’s face from where he’s standing, face towards the wall and bare back to you, but you can tell he’s smirking. “As I’ll ever be, darling.” He stretches his arms out behind him, flexing the lean muscles of his shoulders, and chuckles at your soft inhale.

Cheeks aflame, you uncap the marker a final time and prepare to write.

Luckily your roommate is gone tonight, because you don’t think you would be able to explain this to her. You’re not even sure you can explain it to yourself. It had started when Loki arrived earlier this evening— it’s become an implicit understanding that he stay the night whenever your roommate is out, something you’re exceedingly grateful for (it spares you from the shame of having to admit you hate spending nights alone)—to find the unhinged chaos of a notorious procrastinator flying around the room, trying to do a month’s worth of work in two days.

“I need a whiteboard!” you had shouted at him, rummaging through your notes like a raccoon in a dumpster. The outline for your honors thesis was due at the end of the week, and there was too much to write, too much to keep track of, too much to see all at once. You had been violently suppressing the urge to go “fuck it” and just start writing on the wall above your bed.

Loki, for his part, had seem torn between confusion and amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

“A whiteboard!” You couldn’t find the scrap of paper with the character names you decided upon. “I need to write it all out so I can see it!”

Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to have a normal boyfriend. How would a regular person have responded to such a dilemma? Suggest taping your notes to the wall, perhaps? Offer to help you organize everything? Certainly not smirk like a little gremlin with mischief in his eyes and purr, “Well, you could write it on me.”

Then again, you were the one who, after realizing that this was an offer put forth in the upmost sincerity, cocked your head to the side and said “okay.”

It had been goofy, the two of you rushing off to make a post-midnight Walgreens run for body markers (Loki had been fully prepared to let you scribble all over his back in Sharpie, but you had to draw the line somewhere), goofy in a fun, silly sort of way. It was cathartic—after so many hours stuffed away in your stuffy little dorm, the night air was fresh on your skin, and it felt good to giggle. But now, holding the marker just above his shoulder blades, you suddenly feel overwhelmed in a wave of self-consciousness.

“Don’t keep me waiting, darling,” Loki teases, but when you don’t answer he turns behind him to look at you. “Is something wrong?”

You hesitate. “This is weird.” You glance back up at him, not sure what you’re seeking. “This is weird, right?”

“Very,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t make it any less delightful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Me taking notes all over your back is delightful?”

“Of course!” Loki smiles. “Any moment spent with you is delightful.”

Oh. Well that’s just incredibly sweet. Your eyes drop to the floor, unable to hold his gaze nor stifle the grin spreading across your face.

He’s laughing at your reaction, but it’s a warm sound, so light and airy it makes you feel weightless. “Do you still wish to continue?”

You mumble a yes, toying with the marker cap as he turns back towards the wall. Goodness, his back. His back is so gorgeous. You feel slightly lascivious, just ogling him like this, but you can’t help yourself. He’s just so smooth. You want to run your fingers down his spine, trace the lines of his body beneath your hands. You’ll never get over how soft his skin is. You love lying in bed with him, head on his chest, drawing circles on his stomach with your finger as he sleepily plays with your hair.

But enough of that thought.

Loki twitches when you write the first letter, and you pull back in an instinctual panic.

See the full post

109 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

#3

A Friend From Work

Summary: Loki pops into your lab one day at Stark Tower. Things just get weirder from there.

Word Count: 5,084

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This is for the lovely @naterson​, whose birthday is today and who has said in the past that she loves the idea of an engineer reader working for Tony Stark. I definitely wouldn’t say that this is my best work-- it was a bit out of my comfort zone-- but I really wanted to give her that for her birthday. Happy birthday, Nat! I hope you have a great day <3<3<3

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Slight violence/hostage situation at the end

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

The first time you meet Loki is in your lab.

When he comes in, you’re nearly finished deconstructing a Chitauri particle gun, its guts splayed out across your table in a delicate ecosystem of wires and metallic parts. It’s been a neck-breaking process, equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. It still feels impossible to comprehend that the pieces in your hands were created on another planet, in another galaxy. That you are allowed to even hold this technology feels illegal, let alone to experiment with it.

For this reason, you don’t notice him right away. You’re too engrossed in your work to pay attention to the doorway behind you. It’s only after several minutes pass that the familiar tingle runs down your spine—that feeling of not being alone, of being watched. Your hands fall still. You whip around and yelp.

He’s just standing there behind you, dark curls slicked back over an expression of benign interest. At your cry, he cracks a smile that is somehow both equal parts apologetic and cocky.

“Good afternoon,” he grins. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Your pulse is racing. You had known that Loki is now stationed with the Avengers, with relative free rein of the tower. He’s not supposed to be dangerous—if he was, he’d be under a much more severe lock and key. But there’s still something about having the extraterrestrial responsible for the destruction of New York just casually moseying about your lab that sends your heart to your throat.

“How did you get in here?” Your hand flies beneath the table, where the red panic button rests against your fingers. It would trigger a lockdown sequence across the entire building, shutting down your floor immediately and dispatching agents to your location at once. You’ve never had to press it before, and you’re not particularly eager to now.

“I walked. The door was open, after all.” He nods in the direction of the hall, towards the door you were perpetually forgetting to lock, and flashes another smile. “It’s just that I’m in between assignments at the moment, and there’s precious little to do upstairs.”

You frown. Somehow, a bored immortal being once worshipped as a mischief god hanging around a tech lab sounds like a recipe for disaster. “Does Stark know you’re down here?”

“I’m sure he does. After all, if he didn’t, wearing these would certainly be a waste on my part.” Loki gives a nonchalant wave, showing off the silver bangle latched on to each wrist. They had been a non-negotiable in the agreement that sent Loki to work alongside the Avengers after the events in New York—Tony Stark had been particularly proud of himself for designing cuffs that could impede an Asgardian’s magic. You suppose it stands to reason he would have included a tracking device within them as well.

Still, you’re a bit hesitant. “JARVIS?” you call. “Does Mr. Stark know Loki’s in the labs?”

The clipped mechanical voice responds in an instant. “I have alerted him to that reality, Doctor.”

Loki grins. “See? No need to fret.” He takes a step forward, gazing at the mechanical parts strewn about your workspace. “What is it you’re doing here? Performing a dissection?”

You eye him suspiciously, backing away as he moves towards you. “I’m trying to reactivate the energy core.” It’s no secret, after all. It’s practically become a competition among Stark’s engineers over who can get the Chitauri tech functioning again first.

Loki sniffs. “Ah yes, of course. Mortals and their never-ceasing lust for power.”

“Lust for power’s got nothing to do with it,” you bristle. “I just want to see how this thing works.” You hesitate. “You wouldn’t be able to help with that, would you? You have experience with these weapons.” Although perhaps it’s a stupid question. Stark had probably gotten any and all useful information out of him a while ago.

The god chuckles. “I’m afraid mechanics were never my strong suit.” He eyes the seemingly defunct energy core, free from its nest of wires lodged within the particle gun. “Although I do recall that those can be highly volatile when exposed as you have it there.”

You can’t say that’s particularly groundbreaking insight. “Yeah, I know. But it’s no danger when it’s not functional.”

“Perhaps. But I’d be careful. It takes very little to set them off.”

The door slams, and now another figure his blustering into your lab, glaring daggers at your visitor, and you’re gulping air again because oh look, it’s your boss.

See the full post

253 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

#2

Birdsong

Summary: In the middle of the night, Loki gets up to comfort his infant daughter and thinks about how lucky he is.

Word Count: 1,087

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

A/N: I didn't really plan to write this, but @naterson​ was talking about Loki being a father to a baby on Discord and it reminded me of a scene from a much larger story I think about a lot but don't plan on ever writing. I usually don't like writing fluff, but I ended up sitting down yesterday and writing this by hand in about an hour and it was genuinely quite lovely. So this one's for you, Nat! 

(And if you were wondering, Nat chose the baby name, although she didn't know what she was choosing XD)

Warnings: None

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Loki liked to lay awake at night.

It would have surprised you—when the two of you first met, he had found nights to be something horrific, a time where creeping creatures of the dark melded with monsters within his mind, tormenting him with violent memories of an inescapable past. But now, years later, the night meant something different to him. He laid in bed and admired the world steeped in darkness, soothed by the piercing song of the nightingale and the slow, steady sound of your breathing.

And occasionally, the shrill cries of a frightened infant.

At the sound of your daughter, Loki felt you stir besides him almost immediately—it was an instinctual reaction at this point, something several sleepless months of parenthood had well cultivated—but before you could fully sit up, he pressed you back into bed.

“I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, stroking a clump of hair from your face so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Go back to sleep.”

You truly were exhausted, it seemed, because you relaxed back against your pillow without even the slightest attempt to argue. Loki smiled, stroking a clump of hair from your face so he could press a kiss to your temple. Poor darling. Between the unfamiliar setting and beautifully taxing nature of the baby, he knew you hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in over half a year. The three of you would be returning to Midgard soon, and he hoped that once home you would find it at least a bit easier to relax.

Infant wails still flooded the air, and so Loki pulled himself from the warm cocoon of blankets and bedsheets and shuffled across the hall to the tiny room just besides your own. Charlie was sitting up in her crib—she had been sitting by herself lately, to Loki’s intense pride, as well as rolling and scooting around on her stomach. She hiccupped over her little sobs as she cried, gulping when Loki entered, but not stopping.

“Now what’s wrong, my precious meyla?” he cooed, scooping her into his arms and rocking her against his chest. Charlie sniffled, but she was soon distracted by a clump of his own hair, reaching out to clutch at the strands with her tiny fingers. Loki held in his laugh as she tugged. She was just so small. Every time he looked at her, he found himself in awe at her littleness, marveling at how something so small, so delicate, so wondrously perfect, could come from him. It had to have been your influence. Loki certainly wasn’t capable of creating something so beautiful.

Her tears seemed to have abated, but Loki continued to rock her gently, making his way across the room to the window overlooking the back of the palace. Asgard’s gardens were still shrouded in darkness, but smallest pinpricks of light were beginning to creep from the horizon and into the star-streaked sky. Somewhere in the trees, the nightingale continued its song. For a moment they merely stood, letting nature’s sweet music wash over them both as they gazed across the realm.

You and Loki hadn’t planned to remain on Asgard for so long. After all, you both were happily settled on Midgard, where you could be close to your family and Loki could be at a satisfying distance from his—the only reason you had decided to give birth on his home planet (if one could call it that) was due to the medical concerns of being a human carrying the child of a Frost Giant. The potential for complications was very real, and while nothing could stop the anxious pacing that kept him up all throughout your third trimester, knowing that you were in the hands of the finest healers in the Nine Realms did somewhat allay his concerns. You both looked forward to returning home, but Loki had to admit that there was something magical about being able to share the world in which had grown up with the family he never thought he could have.

He held Charlie to the window, so that she might look out upon the gardens as well. “Isn’t it pretty, little heart?” he whispered. “Not near as pretty as you are, though.”

She cooed, blinking at him sleepily. She had your eyes—Loki had nearly cried when she firsts looked upon him, those same precious gemstones for which he had already known he’d happily fight and die to keep them sparkling. They lit up the same as yours did when she laughed, angelic little giggles that made Loki feel practically weightless with elation. He loved hearing her laugh. He carried the sound in his heart like a badge of honor, proud in the knowledge that no matter his past, no matter his failing, he had been graced with this perfect little girl’s smile.

Charlie was nodding off now, resting her drowsy head against his shoulder. Carefully, Loki laid her back in her crib. He was humming, without really realizing it—humming along to the nightingale’s song until it turned into some nonsensically affectionate lullaby his mother had sang to him in his youth. The realization made him chuckle. He had never though much of singing until he met you, your earnest insistence in the beauty of his voice breaking down the barriers of insecurity he had so long upheld around everything about himself. You cajoled him into singing to you as you laid against each other in bed; soft, silly little folk songs he recalled from childhood. He was grateful for the darkness then, so you could not see how his face flushed red. And yet, here he was now, a father singing his child to sleep without even the slightest modicum of unease. You would be proud.

Loki sighed as the nightingale’s song drew to a close. Sometimes he wondered if it was all a mistake. Surely, he had done nothing in his life to deserve such happiness. Every morning, he half expected to awaken alone and find it was all a dream—a lovely, beautiful dream that he could never hope to hold. And yet, day after day, the two of you remained, his two perfect girls, who meant more to him than life itself.

Charlie twitched in her sleep, the tiniest of kicks, and Loki smiled. He wondered what she was dreaming of. Dawn was beginning to creep over the horizons, but Loki didn’t care. Even in the dark, he had everything he could ever want.

257 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Orange is the Happiest Color

Summary: “I had a dream that you proposed to me with an orange.” 

He chuckled, relaxing back into his pillow. “Did you say yes?”

Word Count: 2,657

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So I had a dream about Loki proposing with an orange. I drew this. And then I wrote this. It’s very stupid. I’m not sure I’m happy with it. Here it is. Don’t take it too seriously. 

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: None

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“I had a dream that you proposed to me with an orange.”

It was a strange way to begin the morning. Loki raised his eyebrows as he rolled to his side, propping his head up with his hand and studying you with a sleepy sort of amusement. “You dreamt I did what?”

“You proposed with an orange.” The words felt silly on your tongue, but it was still early in the morning, with only the slightest hints of sunlight slipping through the slits in the curtain to where the two of you lay tangled in blankets. It was sleepy enough to be silly. “We were in an orange grove. You opened two halves of an orange like a ring box, got down on one knee, and proposed.”

Loki chuckled, a lazy puff of breath escaping his lips as he relaxed back into his pillow. “Did you say yes?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard. Frowning, you tried to recall. The dream now felt distant and murky, something that faded a bit more with every waking moment spent beyond it. There were little more than still images left behind now—the sweet taste of citrus on the air, Loki’s goofy grin as he knelt before you, the wild wave of ecstasy that crashed through your soul at the realization …

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled. The memory was so warm, like reclining into a hot bath after a long day. “I said yes.”

Loki laughed again and pulled you close against his chest so he could press a kiss to your temple. You snuggled against his sternum, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. The room had gone silent again, a contemplative quiet.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him the dream. It drifted too close to the unspoken. You and Loki had talked about marriage before, but nothing really beyond vague little allusions back when you had first started seeing each other two years ago. The situation was rather … difficult, you supposed the word was—when one partner’s biology would cause them to outlive the other’s by several millennia, planning for the future wasn’t exactly the optimistic conversation it was often cracked up to be. The two of you had elected to ignore the hulking bilgesnipe in the room and simply enjoy each day as it came. But the topic continued to simmer beneath the surface. Clearly.

Why else would you be dreaming of proposals?

But the two of you would have to wait to jump into a deep dive dream analysis, because the bedroom had barely been quiet a minute before Loki’s Avengers-branded communicator exploded into its usual obnoxious tirade of beeps and buzzes from where it had been exiled to the floor the night before.

Loki groaned, propelling himself to a sitting post even as you continued to cling to his shoulders.

“Can’t you ignore it?” you whined. “Just this once?”

He laughed, attempting to squirm out of your grasp—although you were nearly certain he was only doing so for appearance’s sake, because you both knew well enough that if he wished he could shrug you off with the flick of his wrist.

“If I do, they’ll break down your apartment door in their crusade to drag me there themselves,” he laughed. “And that would make quite the mess of your lovely doormat.”

“Let them try. They’ll have to go through me,” you declared. “I just got you back, and now they’re going to send you away again—”

“It won’t be long—”

“You don’t know that—”

“Darling, I promise—”

“That’s what you said last time.” You pouted, even though you knew you were being childish. It wasn’t Loki’s fault. The terms of his sentence, the terms that kept him out of an Asgardian prison and free to live by your side in the first place, mandated that he must assist the Avengers in any way required, at any point required, regardless of his personal desires. He was their muscle and their errand boy all at once, the red shirts sent in to handle situations too dangerous or too tedious to risk the other Avengers. These missions could take up to a couple of days to a couple of weeks to a couple of months, and often you found yourself left in the dark with no contact with which to determine when he was coming home, or if he was coming back at all. You hated it, and Loki knew it.

See the full post

312 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dalimoor]

I’m sorry but I can’t stop laughing at this giant crab monster thingy being called Boris

[moecartoons]

can you draw Frank dabbing thank s

THIS WAS FUN!!!

[sapphire-strikes]

<Previous -First- Next>

Small intermission chapter! So feel free to continue to vote on the last one if you haven't yet.

~

"Heh.." Kamal snickered to himself, glancing back at you one more time before he shut the door behind him, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way around the corner and out of Jimothan's backroom into the main area of the lounge.

As soon as he rounded the corner, Randy was quick to jump him, clearly having been waiting for his return.

"Is it my turn? May I go in now?" Randy asked a small stack of papers gripped eagerly in his hands as he rocked back and forth on his heels awaiting an answer. "I've a sonnet I'm sure will sway them!" He beamed proudly but Kamal raised a hand, gesturing for him to slow down.

"Sorry, Randy, might have to hold off on that for now." Kamal turned his attention to the rest of the lounge. "Kid says they want a lawyer!" He hollered to the others sitting around the room, amusement in his voice.

"Guess I'm up then." Parsley, who had been sitting at the bar jumped to his feet, stretching briefly and then cracking his neck back and forth as he strode over to Kamal, tagging in with a fist bump before making his way to the back room. "Wish me luck!"

"Nah, you probably won't need it." Kamal joked then turned to back Randy. "Yeah, it's probably best you sit it out for now, but if things take a turn for the worse you're up next." He patted him on the shoulder. Randy looked mildly disappointed at having been skipped over but he nodded dutifully, returning to his seat in a booth across the room as Kamal took a seat at the bar. "How's it going, Jimbo?"

"Everything's coming together on our end. They're still getting things ready, but Gillis has been sending me updates and everything's looking good!" The bartender nodded. "I guess I should be asking you that though, the kid won't squeal, huh?"

Kamal smiled to himself with a small air of knowing. "Eh, no big deal, once the big guy's recovered we'll take another crack at it. He can be prrretty persuasive when he wants to be." He explained, winking to Jimothan. "Thanks for letting us use your backroom though. Makes things more interesting than just doing it at the house. "

"Hey, no problem, and between you and I, this isn't the first time I've had somebody tied up back there." The two of them laughed as Jimothan reached under the bar pulling out a small glass.

"I'm gonna choose to believe that's a joke!"

"Good call. Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"Hmmm, gimmie a ginger ale if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," Jimothan assured, pouring him a glass and sliding it across the counter. "Want anything for the kid?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea, just a water for now." Jimothan nodded, reaching to the cooler behind him and pulling out a bottle of water that he slid over to Kamal as well.

"On the house." They were both interrupted by a large thump as Boris appeared, eagerly jumping onto the stool next to Kamal to catch his attention.

"Hey, bud! How are you doing? Shake yourself off good?"

"Yes! I am okay now!" Boris nodded with a smile.

"Should have expected them to pull a trick like that, you're such a softie." Kamal took a sip of his soda .

"Mmm, perhaps!" Boris hummed. "But I intend to get them back tenfold!" He exclaimed, pounding a fist into his hand, a small blush still on his cheeks. "Sooo, did they tell you anything?"

"Nah, I just stepped out for a few. Parsley's talkin' to em now."

"Oh, that is good! Perhaps he will have some luck!"

"And if not it's up to you and me! Plus, we've always got Randy too." He thumbed over his shoulder at the poet currently practicing some kind of speech in a booth across the room. "We throw him in now though and it'll probably have the opposite effect. That or it'll just put em to sleep..."

"Okee! I was also wondering something..."

"What's up, bud?"

"Could I be thee good cop now?" Boris asked bashfully.

Kamal just laughed. "Aww, but you were so excited to be bad cop? You were doing good too, even if you'd didn't get to do a whole lot yet."

"I Knoooow....but I am not very good at being intimidating...It is harder than I thought."

"Okay, we can switch. I'll be bad cop now. Haha,  kid's gonna be thrown for such a loop."

"Goodie!"

"You can still do the 'persuading' though if we need it, right? I know I can't dish it out like you can."

"Oh, of course." In an act that forbode something far more intimidating than it probably was, Boris cracked his knuckles, a mischievous smile stretching ear to ear. "I am looking forward to it."

[avaantares]

Rules: Tag people you would like to know/catch up with.

(Sorry, breaking this rule right off the bat since I'm leaving in a few hours and likely won't see the responses -- but other people might, so consider yourself tagged if you'd like to share!)

Tagged by @celestial-alignment

Last Song(s): Technically it was "Remaining Years" by Xiao Zhan, because I watched an episode of Joy of Life while eating dinner (at, uh, 11:30 p.m. because I forgot that food exists) and that's the closing theme (and I let it play through almost every time, because Xiao Zhan). I had a 7-hour rock-and-Kpop playlist running while I was packing earlier, but since it was on shuffle I have no idea what the last song played was...

Last Movie: The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini. IT'S TERRIBLE, even by Beach Party standards. Even Basil Rathbone and Boris Karloff could not make it watchable. Avoid.

Currently Reading: Ahahaha... *eyes stack of books on bedside table and open titles on e-reader* Okay, let's go with the books I'm actually likely to finish this year: The Prince of the Skies by Antonio Iturbe; The Windward King by K.T. Ivanrest; The King's Avatar by Butterfly Blue; Joy of Life by Mao Ni (combo breaker! no royalty in the title). Plus at least a dozen serialized webcomics and manhua, which I guess count as reading, too... Oh, and at a friend's suggestion I'm actually reading Children of the Future Age, now that I've been able to get some distance from it! It's kind of fun coming at it as a casual reader rather than being deeply immersed in writing/editing. I keep finding things I'd forgotten about and laughing at my own jokes.

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

First Line Game

I was tagged by dear @heartoferebor! Thank you! Rules: list the first lines of the last ten stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

I haven't actually published that many since I started writing fic again so we're going all the way back to 2018 lmao.

"It’s early spring and the caravan is passing through Verden; wagons balancing on the knifes edge precipice of the cliffs, tottering every now and again as though to keel over into the frothing sea." X

"Eskel wakes screaming, clutching the ruined side of his face." X

"The glow of falselight had faded hours ago, leaving the kitchen of the seventh-floor apartment of the Broken Tower in a comfortable part-shadow." X

"Geralt hasn't been back to Kaer Morhen in years, not since Vesemir's death, since the Wild Hunt came through and laid waste to everything he’d ever held close to him." X

"This wasn’t the fucking plan this was never the fucking plan." X

"It’s the sound of music that brings him back to consciousness; the Stones echoing from the studio below through the hole in the floor."X

"Coën had taken the bouncer gig at The Wolf’s Den because it was supposed to be easy, something he could do to pay rent while devoting most of his brainpower to studying for the LSAT." X

"Down in the orchard, the apple trees are blooming - white blossoms, like snow, standing out against the new leaves, their green so bright he can barely look at them so sensitive are his new eyes." X

"Boris does not like Paris." X

"Each one of them deals with what happened in different ways, by changing slightly, personalities pivoting a little to the left." X

I don't know that I see any trends beyond my hackneyed overuse of run-on sentences lmao. I have a horrible reliance on atmosphere and I like to overdescribe the scenery before even getting to the barest beginnings of the action and I'm sure it drives readers absolutely nuts. (This has reminded me about how much I want to write a sequel to that Coën/Lambert/Aiden club AU fic)

I don't know any moots who write fic that weren't already tagged in this reblog chain but please please do this if you like. I'm always curious about people's writing styles. The lack of a tag is based on ignorance not spite I promise! Please forgive me.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Please, please stop talking about covid. I'm a nurse who has worked on the wards, and you are expressing ideas which you seem to think are right but are dangerous. Stop talking about something you don't know anything about. Of course governments are to blame but people packing out pubs are completely in the wrong as well. Disappointing seeing you spread nonsense like that. Remove yourself from conversations you aren't qualified for.

Hi anon,

I'm sorry for you what you must have been through in the last year.

If I'm spreading incorrect information about the disease then let me know and provide sources and I'll correct it.

But I completely reject the idea that I don't know anything about COVID or I'm not qualified to talk about it. I think it's incredibly important in a democratic society that conversations about questions about how to respond to threats like disease are collective and not considered just matters for experts.

The idea that I think what I do because of lack of knowledge, as opposed to different beliefs about society is one that falls apart almost as soon as you examine it. Chris Whitty and Patrick Vallance have accepted Boris Johnson's line - and they certainly have access to a lot of knowledge and information.

The government and the press have been trying to blame individuals all pandemic. That is a political choice and one that everyone can and should choose whether they agree, not something that should just be the preserve of a few experts and people with specific experiences.

And I'll make explicit the point I was making in the tags before. Blaming people for having and spreading disease is not new with this pandemic it has a long history of doing huge harm. Blaming men having sex with men for having and spreading HIV did and does huge harm.

My commitment to an approach to health that doesn't blame individuals, but instead looks at structural causes is hardly unusual within the health sector.

[radioheadyaoi]

I want to ask them all but I'm going to hold myself back. 3, 9, 10, 11, 20, 34, 43

thanks for the asks! 

3: Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do? That I can think of, Tell Me About The Big Bang (I'm not sure who wrote it), fics by @dreamypope, you and so many of the fics written by the jjpope community 

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community. I have no idea, honestly. But, if you do know any underrated writes/fics, please send them to me! 

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for? I am about to expose myself right now. Let me check my ao3 tabs: dean & seamus (harry potter), arthur & eames (inception), todd & neil (dead poets society), jj & pope, boris and theo (the goldfinch), and newt & thomas (the maze runner). I have so many others but i can't remember them right now. 

 As 'research' for my WIP, I read a lot of wartime fanfiction because I did not do a lot of actually research and wanted light and fluffy ideas and because when I started writing it, I had just watched the movie 1917, I read a TON of will & tom so if you see my ao3 tab, that's half of what you'll see. It was actually very helpful when it came to writing. 

11. How do you come up with your fic titles? Lines from the writing, mostly. Or just the general idea of whatever I've written. 

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? Posting it and seeing what everyone thinks. Sharing my writing on this blog has built up my confidence and made me feel proud of what I write and I love answering questions, looking at feedback and seeing everyone's thoughts. 

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is? I've actually been thinking about this a lot. In an novella I wrote, one of the main characters dies and the other character struggles to move on after that. Their life falls apart and they do nothing about it. They let the sadness and grief consume them. Last summer, at the beginning of July, one of my best friends died. I was young, still am young, and had no idea how to process the grief. My life imploded and I fell into a deep depression. In March, another one of my best friends committed suicide, just days before my birthday, and even though I had grieved once, I had no idea how to handle that. A lot of what the character was feeling came from me, more than I meant. So much that my uncle began to worry about me when he read the second draft.  

On a less sad note, I like to add little quirks of mine in. Like how I like pie but only lemon and peach, how I eat frozen blueberries with a spoon, how I like swimming, being around people. I hope what readers think of me is something nice but I can never know for sure. 

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember. Nothing specific, but anytime someone says they like my writing and quote my lines back at me. Like when @pope-obx said something I wrote was earth shattering, I will never forget that. And how you said my writing changed your view on poetry. How @dreamypope called me an inspiration. These little things that stay with me. 

 Feel free to send more!

[kantkid]

Tag yourself, the Goldfinch edition